lmfao.
Trivial Issues
I have had a long-standing internal battle with the idea of "men's" products. Aside from shirts with room for boobs, and hormone injections, there isn't much of a difference to be had between the consumable needs of men and women. But, something has set me off. I will not mention it in specifics, and this is in direct protest. I'm aware a certain soda company is using the negative emotions of women as a demographic to create buzz.
I can bite my tongue about "men's" hair care products. "Men's" shampoo, body wash, even those ads for energy drinks that only include men. I am OK with it, just because. Just because it is playing the game, the game of civilization, with a sense of humility towards the standards it's exploiting. While I think it's ridiculous to use "being a woman" as a derogatory term (or "manly", in the female case), these subtler examples simply have to throw up their hands and say "well, men wouldn't buy our product if we didn't advertise this way". It's just the way our society moves.
The ad I am up in arms about is for a soda that many women enjoy. It is sweet, with not a bit of acidic bite, or other "manly" unpleasantness. Diet sodas have taken over, and to step over their competition, there have been new strains of minimal-caloried drinks cropping up all over the place. Y'know, just to be different.
Apparently, this has become a massive problem for the not-to-be-mentioned brand, as we all know, only women are capable or would have interest in dieting or reducing their sugar intake (wait, didn't I say it was a very sweet drink in the first place? What kind of MAN drinks sweet drinks, anyway?!) and thus drinking diet sodas. So, they have begun a very aggressive marketing campaign to recapture their male audience. Their moderately effective strategy is to accuse any man watching of the ultimate degradation of personhood:
being a woman.
The only remedy to this horrible curse, of course, is to drink their product.
I would just like to say... Only real women drink Mr. Pibb.
And fuck you.
Y'know, for a while there, I thought the country might not actually need feminism anymore. But apparently chauvinism and misogyny were only in remission. Time for another round of Femo-therapy.
I can bite my tongue about "men's" hair care products. "Men's" shampoo, body wash, even those ads for energy drinks that only include men. I am OK with it, just because. Just because it is playing the game, the game of civilization, with a sense of humility towards the standards it's exploiting. While I think it's ridiculous to use "being a woman" as a derogatory term (or "manly", in the female case), these subtler examples simply have to throw up their hands and say "well, men wouldn't buy our product if we didn't advertise this way". It's just the way our society moves.
The ad I am up in arms about is for a soda that many women enjoy. It is sweet, with not a bit of acidic bite, or other "manly" unpleasantness. Diet sodas have taken over, and to step over their competition, there have been new strains of minimal-caloried drinks cropping up all over the place. Y'know, just to be different.
Apparently, this has become a massive problem for the not-to-be-mentioned brand, as we all know, only women are capable or would have interest in dieting or reducing their sugar intake (wait, didn't I say it was a very sweet drink in the first place? What kind of MAN drinks sweet drinks, anyway?!) and thus drinking diet sodas. So, they have begun a very aggressive marketing campaign to recapture their male audience. Their moderately effective strategy is to accuse any man watching of the ultimate degradation of personhood:
being a woman.
The only remedy to this horrible curse, of course, is to drink their product.
I would just like to say... Only real women drink Mr. Pibb.
And fuck you.
Y'know, for a while there, I thought the country might not actually need feminism anymore. But apparently chauvinism and misogyny were only in remission. Time for another round of Femo-therapy.
Things You Probably Don't Care To Know About
I wrote a poem for my sisters today. I told them, "I hope you hate me, I hope you always will," and "pray that Hell exists." I don't think I wrote it in the first person. I think I wrote it as a masochist, a guilty party in need of punishment. But, either way, I find that hate and anger have been valuable tools for victims of emotional abuse. This was the point of the poem. I hope they love themselves enough to be angry at the people who abandon them. Who could've done something but didn't. To be angry at me and my mistakes, and not come to doubt themselves in my stead.
I also thought of something funny. I must admit, it tastes like a bad Mitch Hedberg joke. I thought, "I don't get why people say they have trouble sleeping. I don't have trouble sleeping, because I don't like sleeping. It would be like me saying 'I have trouble vomiting'. If I'm not, I'm likely having a better time than if I were. No trouble needed."
I spent the day researching the 90's. Apparently it wasn't all about Spice Girls, KFC, and The Lion King, so I guess I missed a lot. Also, a lot of stuff was tacky, even tackier than my purple leggings/striped turtleneck combo. So maybe it wasn't such a bad part of history to skip the first time around.
Still, I wish I had been abducted by my boyfriend, and traveled the country listening to Phish and Ani DiFranco in the backseat of a tricked-out red S4. I believe it would have added a needed dimension to my prepubescent character. But, whatever I believe would have happened in the past is irrelevant, as it never happened. And now I giggle and think of squirrels whenever I'm in the presence of a banana hammock, instead of wishing it were a vagina, or asking where I left my backpack.
I meant to be rewriting my BFA Thesis proposal today. However, I've started to think 90's research is more enriching to my life right now.
Funny how antithetical to living richly school has become.
I'm sure I won't be saying that as a dropout living on Welfare once my professors figure out where I am, but, live in the moment, man...
I also thought of something funny. I must admit, it tastes like a bad Mitch Hedberg joke. I thought, "I don't get why people say they have trouble sleeping. I don't have trouble sleeping, because I don't like sleeping. It would be like me saying 'I have trouble vomiting'. If I'm not, I'm likely having a better time than if I were. No trouble needed."
I spent the day researching the 90's. Apparently it wasn't all about Spice Girls, KFC, and The Lion King, so I guess I missed a lot. Also, a lot of stuff was tacky, even tackier than my purple leggings/striped turtleneck combo. So maybe it wasn't such a bad part of history to skip the first time around.
Still, I wish I had been abducted by my boyfriend, and traveled the country listening to Phish and Ani DiFranco in the backseat of a tricked-out red S4. I believe it would have added a needed dimension to my prepubescent character. But, whatever I believe would have happened in the past is irrelevant, as it never happened. And now I giggle and think of squirrels whenever I'm in the presence of a banana hammock, instead of wishing it were a vagina, or asking where I left my backpack.
I meant to be rewriting my BFA Thesis proposal today. However, I've started to think 90's research is more enriching to my life right now.
Funny how antithetical to living richly school has become.
I'm sure I won't be saying that as a dropout living on Welfare once my professors figure out where I am, but, live in the moment, man...
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