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Star-crossed and Cross-themedSpike Jonze’s Her is a movie I really wish I saw back in 2013, because I know I would have put it on my Best of 2013 list. I think I would have put it ahead of Wadjda and beneath 12 Years a Slave. It’s a film that really had me in awe after watching it, and it’s one that I think can provide hours of discussion. I don’t have that kind of freedom with the medium, but let me say what’s important. Her is about Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix), a writer for an online company, who is going through a divorce and finds himself isolated in Los Angeles in the near future. He downloads a new artificially intelligent operating system that dubs herself Samantha (the voice of Scarlett Johansson). Now interacting with a hyper-aware program, Theodore and Samantha begin to fall for one another and begin an odd relationship, one that goes beyond what is considered normal, although only one other person shows any notion that this might not be healthy or natural. This is a really fascinating movie. This movie could have gone so many ways. It could have been a comedy about a guy becoming too obsessed with a computer program. It could have been a thriller where the computer program becomes too jealous and starts to destroy his life. Strangely, Jonze decided to make this an incredibly sincere romance film, but one that has plenty of subtext and philosophy to add depth to the tale. See, I actually found myself thinking, “This can work. These two can have a relationship.” The Samantha program works so well. She’s intelligent, and she can learn. She has realistic reactions to everything Theodore says to her, to the point that you might forget that she’s even there. The problem with the relationship is simple: because one of the people involved isn’t human. There’s a limit to how far they can go. Despite this, the film never really says that it was wrong to have this relationship. Theodore clearly experiences genuine joy, sorrow, and frustration in his time with Samantha, and even if it’s difficult for Samantha to understand herself, she clearly is able to react in a way that suggests that she is capable of expressing humanity. This film has such a rich story, and it’s aided by such incredible direction. Jonze’s touch is wonderful, and I love the near future setting he has created. There’s a lot of open space, from Theodore’s minimally furnished apartment to the open locations of the beach or the forest. There’s bright colors everywhere, predominately shades of red (it’s like they know Three Colors: Red is one of my all time favorite movies and wanted to appeal to me by reminding me of that). I really think the art direction is one of the best I’ve seen in a while. At the same time, this is probably one of the best movies I’ve seen in a while. I saw this movie with my brother, and most of the car ride home was us discussing the various philosophical or film theory aspects of the film (such as the philosophy of Alan Watts and the male gaze) while also having trouble explaining why we enjoyed this movie so much. I felt such a genuine connection to the protagonist and his OS. I know what it’s like to feel alienated and to be emotionally withdrawn, and this movie takes such a unique approach to discussing these issues. I’m really glad I saw this movie, and I think a lot of people should see it. I definitely think you should see it with another person, since I think each person might have a different reaction to it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and I hope to bring you more reviews like this. 5 stars #Her #SpikeJonze #FilmReview #AlexCarrigan #2013Movies #Crit #JoaquinPhoenix #ScarlettJohansson #AmyAdams
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How People Like This Hold Back All of HumanitySo, this happened in the news again. Some white person made a crack or offensive remark about a community, race, or group of people again. Following in the footsteps of Justine Sacco and Stan Collymore comes Miroslava Duma, editor of Buro 24/7, a Russian fashion magazine, who published an article featuring the above photo in question on Dasha Zhukova, editor-in-chief of Garage Magazine, another Russian magazine. The logic has left most people offended and scratching their heads. A few questions come to my mind. For one, why did you think that was a good idea? I mean, even if you are an ignorant racist Russian woman, why in the name of all contexts to the word 'reason' would you think publishing that photograph would be a good idea? Second, what about the photographer, why did he take that photo? Or Dasha, why did she agree to pose in such a hapless photo? Why did three assumedly free-thinking individuals not ever once think that this could be offensive to, reasonably, a LARGE group of people? This raises not only questions about the prevalence and acceptance of racism in countries the world over, but also the intelligence of fashion magazine editors. There was a lot of twitter backlash, whatever good that does. Public shaming over something that, in this modern day and age, seems like a no-brainer. Whether one is racist or not is their own choice, but like a religion, please don't put it in other people's faces. And the photo is ugly, too. Dasha Zhukova has issued the following public apology: "The chair pictured in the Buro 24/7 website interview is an artwork created by Norwegian artist Bjarne Melgaard, one of a series that reinterprets art historical works from artist Allen Jones as a commentary on gender and racial politics. Its use in this photo shoot is regrettable as it took the artwork totally out of its intended context, particularly given that Buro 24/7′s release of the article coincided with the important celebration of the life and legacy of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I regret allowing an artwork with such charged meaning to be used in this context. I utterly abhor racism and would like to apologize to those offended by my participation in this shoot. Garage Magazine has a strong track record of promoting diversity and racial and gender equality in the worlds of art and fashion, and will continue in our mission to stir positive debate on these and other issues." And Miroslava Duma has issued this following public apology: "Dear all, Buro 24/7 and I personally would like to express our sincerest apology to anyone who we have offended and hurt. It was ABSOLUTELY not our intention. We are against racism or gender inequality or anything that infringes upon anyone's rights. We love, respect and look up to people regardless of their race, gender or social status. The chair in the photo should only be seen as a piece of art which was created by British Pop-Artist Allen Jones, and not as any form of racial discrimination. In our eyes everyone is equal. And we love everybody." To me, they're the same note. Both editors cover their butts by stating in a matter of fact manner that they are not racist, believe in equality, and that it is the OFFICIAL stance of their respected organizations to love and cherish everybody, also equally. If you believed in that in the first place, then why did you publish the photos? Furthermore, why did you take the photo? Further-furthermore, why did you even think the photo? Did anyone of the three+ people think, at one point, that this could be going the wrong way? So now we come to the grit of my op-ed, which is how instances like this fit into the public debate over the real issues. People like Miroslava Duma or Dasha Zhukova are an example of what I call serial apologists. They proudly display their own desires to be offensive, and apologize when the expected backlash comes their way. Is it a doubt in my mind that instances like this are done intentionally to create international buzz and draw attention to the magazine's being published? No. Do instances like this just add more problems to the public debate instead of offering solutions? Yes. Do these two individuals really care about what the offended individuals think? Probably not, because imagery like this that seems so obviously made to provoke is still being published without concern. Is it such a stretch of thinking for one person, before publishing, to think, "hmm, why this could be considered racist"? These people don't care. They want the publicity. They want the attention, even if it's bad. They want the press. Personal sensibilities mean nothing, and this kind of thinking holds all of humanity back. This is my two cents. Have a great day. #GarageMagazine #RussianFashionMagazine #WhiteWoman#BlackChair #Racism #Disgusting #Shocking The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Fashionable CourageBy Raquel Lynne QuailBellMagazine.com A fork in the road is a metaphor, based on a literal expression, for a deciding moment in life when a major choice of options is required. Reflect upon the last time you found yourself at one—how did you feel and react; do you think you took the right path? In Alice in Wonderland, Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat. She asked the cat, “Which way should I go?” The cat replied, “Which way to do you want to go?” Alice replied, “I don’t know.” “Then,” said the cat, “it doesn’t matter.” A friend revealed to me the other day that he was at a fork in the road. He had no idea which way to go. I felt I needed to reply, but wasn’t sure how, when it hit me: “Whichever way you go is the right path, for either path will present you with great experiences and lessons to learn.” So I leave you with this thought: There are far better things ahead than what we leave behind. Trust that you will choose the correct path. Be kind and compassionate with yourself. Be bold. Keep your head held high, take that step, and be of fashionable courage. #Power #Courage #SelfEsteem #Truth #Trust #Belief #Faith #Essay #FoodForThought #Reflection The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
On Meeting Your IdolsBy Fay Funk QuailBellMagazine.com The year was 2008, and my band, The Vegaleague, was doing very well. While far from performing on a professional level, we were practicing often and playing shows about once a week, and had some very nice poppy songs written. We were remarkably put together for three teenage girls managing their own band, that organization and drive got us out into the musical world, and we met a lot of interesting people, including one famous person: Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth. While at a showcase for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls, the feminist music program where we all met, our guitar player Janie started talking to a woman about our band. It turned out the woman worked for Converse shoes, a company that had a few years earlier merged with Nike, which is based in Beaverton, Oregon. She was organizing an industry party in town and offered us a spot as the opening band for the night. We would be opening for Thurston Moore. We did not say yes right away. The party was on a Wednesday night and we all had school the next day. That’s just about the silliest reason out there for not opening a show for a highly influential musician, but we were very academically minded. There was a period in my life when Sonic Youth was the only band I would listen to, and they had a massive impact on me, so we decided to stick it out and play the show, even though it was on a school night. Plus the organizers paid us $200. When we arrived at the Wonder Ballroom to load in our gear, Thurston Moore and his band were sound-checking. As we were stacking our things by the side of the stage, he turned to us and asked, “Do you guys need to borrow any of our gear?” We said no, we had everything we needed, though in retrospect we probably should have taken him up on his offer. Thurston Moore undoubtedly had higher quality equipment than anyone in my band. It was a surprisingly normal interaction we had with a very influential person. It felt very weird. My band did our sound-check and the venue started filling up. We lost track of Thurston Moore but knew he was still around, probably backstage. Then it was time for our set. Playing for such a large crowd, especially one with a famous rock star in it, made us excited and jittery. Would Thurston Moore like us? Maybe if he did, something big would happen for us. We would go on tour, and become rock stars ourselves. All the grand fantasies I had never allowed myself to indulge seemed to be coming true. Our performance was finished, and it went very well. It was time to load out. As we were taking our stuff out the back door to the parking lot, a dirty old van pulled up. Out of it came Thurston Moore and his band, smelling of weed and burritos. He hadn’t seen us play. Not even one song. It was mildly heartbreaking. Looking back I can see that we couldn’t really have expected him to stay and watch, though that doesn’t make it any less disappointing. Thurston Moore has been making music for a long time, and has seen a million bands play, all hoping for the same thing: a big break. He almost certainly does not have the energy to give each and everyone of them the glowing praise they so desire. He deserves the chance to just sit in his van smoking weed and eating burritos. And he was very nice to my band while getting ready to play himself. He signed autographs for us, even as some jerk who worked for him told us to leave him alone. “C’mon, Thurston is very busy, and you girls know better than anyone what it’s like to be in his position,” he said with a condescending smile. Thurston definitely knows what it was like to be like me, which is why he took the time to sign an autograph, but I sure as hell don’t know what it’s like to be him. Some times I wonder if opening for Thurston Moore is going to be the high point of my musical career. The answer is yes, probably. I don’t have the desire to pursue an actual career as a musician, though entertaining those fantasies is always fun, especially that night. I still have the autograph he signed mixed in somewhere with my collection of concert tickets and old fliers, written in silver pen on the back of one of The Vegaleague’s set lists. The $200 we were paid for playing that show gave my band enough money to record our songs in a studio with a friend of ours. So in a way, even though he never watched our band perform, Thurston Moore did help my band in advancing our musical careers. #Music #Band #TheVegaleague #ThurstonMoore #SonicYouth #RockNRollCampForGirls
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Lonely Baby Chicks Need More Friends Editors Note: This is an expansion and reinvigoration of an article Mo wrote in April of 2013, before joining The Quail Bell Crew! In April of 2013 the City of Richmond approved a new ordinance making it officially permissable to have up to four hens on a residential property. The law requires you get a permit, which costs $60 every year. For comparison, a yearly license for a dog is $10 every year. So it costs $15 per chicken (if you get the maximum of four, more per chicken if you get fewer: $20 each for three, $30 each for two, and $60 each for one). How does that even make sense? Not to mention that it would seem that the idea of having chickens is about food access and local food and social justice. But if you have to pay an arbitrary $60 permit fee to the City just to have only four hens, it is going to be hard for folks to even break even on having hens once food and coop costs are calculated in. For instance, an average cost for a dozen eggs according to the bureau of labor statistics, is $1.93. So a $1.93 divided by 12 is roughly 16 cents per egg. $60 dollars (the permit cost) divided by 16 cents is 375. For the cost of a yearly chicken permit one could store buy 375 eggs, basically an egg a day. So you’d have to have an output of 375 eggs from your 4 hens each year to make chickens cost efficient in Richmond given the current permit and regulations. Then factor in the cost of time/materials for a coop, and the feed, and you’ve really got something unaffordable. This seems like the new chicken rules are just some greenwashing yuppie victory than one which will largely help folks who need access to affordable, local, fresh food. Many people who wanted to have chickens before these regulations were passed, simply did have chickens. Now it is likely or at least possible that there will be more enforcement against people without a permit. The current state of the chicken regulations in Richmond is great for hobbyists and folks for whom having your own chickens is suddenly trendy. Basically, for anyone whom can afford to take a loss on the fun of having chicken pets. This seems to complicate matters for folks trying to get affordable, local food—especially folks living in food deserts. The fee is too high, and the folks who might most benefit from being allowed to have chickens are having that benefit taken away through the permit fees. The new regulations require a minimum of three square feet per hen. For animal cruelty prevention reasons, this makes sense. Maybe the City of Richmond should also require that any and all eggs or products containing eggs that are sold in the City of Richmond are laid by hens who have at least three square feet of space in their coops. An aspect of the Richmond law which has come to my attention is that it conflicts with State law. Virginia law requires that chicks be sold 6 at a time as a minimum. The reasoning behind this minimum is fair and rational. It is meant to discourage impulsive purchases of baby chicks for, say Easter presents, when they will later be unwanted and potentially neglected. And it is also to allow the chicks enough chick friends to huddle together for warmth. Before this Spring hits, which is coming soon I hope, Richmond City Council members ought to update our Chicken ordinance, to allow for six hens. Any fewer hens simply sets Richmonders up for failure, potentially puts the chicks in harms way, and creates an unnecessary obstacle to successful Backyard Chickens. Additionally, updating our local law to be in compliance with state laws will lower the cost per chicken for the permit, increase the amount of eggs individuals can get, and overall increase people's access to local food. I know that there are plenty of nice, well meaning people in Richmond who are genuinely excited about being able to have chickens as pets and/or for the benefit of eggs. To you I say, don’t settle for this. Don’t settle for a $15 a hen fee. Just because you can afford it, doesn’t mean you should have to. Don’t let the passing of this regulation be the end of your participation in the fight for food access, food justice, and local food in Richmond. The 'win' of Backyard Chickens is just the beginning. We need to update the law to allow for 6 chickens. Then, we can perhaps allow chickens in front yards as well. Then there will be other aspects of food justice to be approached in Richmond. Here are links to info from Richmond Animal Control on the issue: Part 1: https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B5n_lAukWsxMYlE2ZGhCWVVmbkU/edit Part 2: https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B5n_lAukWsxMTGgydDlsb0FKaTg/edit #Chickens #UrbanFarming #DIY #Animals #Livestock #Food #Homegrown #RVA The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Friendship and Bad Films “We almost dated” is a very strange relationship to have with someone, regardless of how it actually turned out. Most of the time, something gets broken and the relationship is never quite the same: feelings get hurt, people cut their losses, and move on. Luckily, Andrew and I remain very good friends, and after meeting 12 years ago in high school, I don’t foresee much changing. And frankly, I’m not sure anyone else would appreciate texts regarding a newfound obsession with “Timber” by Ke$ha, a discussion on the merits of House Lannister, Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, or an onslaught of quotes culled from 80’s action flicks. It’s not often that one finds a friend with whom you can not speak for quite awhile due to myriad reasons (relationships, college, disagreements, life in general), and then have that relationship resume so seamlessly. But ours did, and for that I’m grateful. Even more surprising is that this is a friendship that’s withstood multiple viewings of The Room, the world’s greatest bad movie of all time. All of these viewings were self-inflicted, and most of them decidedly not free, regardless of the fact that both of us own the DVD (the theater experience is just magical). And it’s grown to hold a special place in my heart because of the mere fact that I share it with Andrew. And this is how I’ve begun to determine the rest of my friendships: Just how much torture can I inflict on this person before they decide that they’ve had enough? I’m not talking medieval methods; just something more akin to mentioning how cold one’s hands are, and immediately touching someone’s unsuspecting face. Fortunately, our relationship is one of symbiosis. Andrew’s one of those people I can always count on for pretty much anything, but most importantly: Who else would voluntarily sit with me through two hours of absolute cinematic garbage, our own private RiffTrax? No one, that’s who. Trust me, I’ve asked. One idle day at work, my phone buzzed, and the text from Andrew said, “I sent you something on Facebook. You’ll thank me later.” To my great joy, it was a Facebook event invite to meet Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero, stars of The Room, in Richmond, and the question of whether or not we would be attending wasn’t even entertained. This is what true friendship is. Easily repaired, able to withstand all sorts of difficulties, and a love of crap movies. Standing in the crowded, hot bookstore waiting to get our DVDs signed on a Saturday afternoon, surrounded by our ilk: There is no better way to spend a day. We’ll always have The Room. #Friendship #Relationships #SocialTime #BadMovies #WeirdEndings #TheRoom #TheWayLifeGoes #TheEnd The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Black AngelProducers/Stylists: Sidney Shuman, Shannon Minor, Lindsey Story and Amy Gatewood Photographer: Jasmine Thompson Model: Rachel Thibault QuailBellMagazine.com #Fashion #Photography #BlackAndWhite #Photoshoot #BlackDress #Model
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Hello, Terry!Editor's Note: Given this week's reminder of who Virginia's governor was just a couple weeks ago, here are two small reminders that there's a new guy in office, taken on the Inauguration of Governor Terry McAuliffe Jan. 11: #TerryMcAuliffe #GovernorofVirginia #VAPolitics #VirginiaGovernor #Inuguration The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Write Home Soon"Write Home Soon," is an ongoing project featuring participant created postcards, each depicting and describing a place—physical, mental, metaphoric—that an individual has lost access to. The collection derived from a series of workshops, street engagements, or by individuals mailing cards into the Art Museum of the Americas in Washington, DC. The Washington Project for the Arts, and curator Raquel de Anda originally selected the project to be exhibited for the AMA's 2012-13 exhibit "Ripple Effect." The exhibit showcased international work that aims to incorporate viewers as direct participants, addresses pressing social issue, and blurs the boundary between artistic practice and social engagement. By incorporating personal histories from a myriad of social situations and inviting viewers to engage and tangibly connect to the memories of others, the installation strives to facilitate a challenging and humanistic meeting ground for those that are commonly kept apart in society. Over 40 workshops have been held in prisons, shelters, museums, studios for disabled artists, senior citizen facilities, mental health clinics, schools, libraries, street corners, and a multitude of other locations. While the project is radically inclusive, participants become more than producers, or objects, but become the viewers and curators of their own work within the exhibit. Due to the context of the AMA exhibit (the museum is situated within a couple blocks of the White House, National Mall, and other institutions of cultural and political power) the installation was designed to present alternatives for public participation in the design, production, and engagement of monuments. While each postcard provides a safe and autonomous space for personal histories, self-representation, and intimate reflection, the collection as a whole reifies the complex, fluid, and diverse nature of our communities. Write Home Soon attempts to instigate a level, and more importantly, a quality of participation and engagement that challenges and showcases our collective alienation--from each other, from ideas and definitions of place, and from the 'art' that we are rarely able to interact with. The postcard as a medium for creative exchange and reflection is being explored further by myself and Rebecca Hackeman in the upcoming public project; The Archive of Unmade Photographs which has been comissioned for the 2014 Society of Photographic Educators National Conference in Baltimore. #WriteHomeSoon #MarkStrandquist #Postcards #Multimedia #Exhibit #ArtMuseumOfTheAmericas #WashingtonD.C.
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Tunnel GardenBy Misha Adams QuailBellMagazine.com I sunk my feet into the ground, displacing a tangle of green weeds and twigs. I could remember the sound of the football bending my sister’s wire-framed glasses. I was six, and I threw it as hard and high as I could to impress the neighbors: my grade school peers. She ran into the house in disbelief, but the kids across the street cheered. That same year, I planted a marigold near the living room window so Grandma could watch it grow, blossoming into a tangerine colored tree, just a little taller each morning. My cousins moved to the neighboring city, so we’d all mimic our favorite movie scenes and reenact them for our parents. They sat on the couch, grinning ear to ear, laughing at us. And, for the first time, I had slumber parties and friends over. But Grandma isn’t here anymore, and the red and blue football was swept away by the ditch-water current. Our cousins lie to us; we no longer have them over.
The air was cold—my lungs felt heavy and dull. I shifted my stance, attempting to even out the weight from my book bag so the straps wouldn’t cut into my shoulders. I remembered riding my bike down the street, up and back. Mom didn’t want us to get hurt, so we’d stay close by. I hadn’t rode a bike in years. More so, I didn’t recognize the front yard. The sparseness of the pine trees, the collection of soggy mudded potholes, nor the heap of pinecones toward the bottom of the hill. But a lot had happened—a succession of birthdays, low grade hurricanes, new neighbors, and lost friends. I slid my hands into my jean pockets, careful to hold my core tightly and refrain from breathing. I couldn’t remember what the front yard looked like because I no longer looked at it. It was only a distraction en route from the car to the house. I wanted to cry. This morning, I burnt two slices of toast on the oven racks. They were charred, and the kitchen began to fill with smoke. Mom helped by opening a few windows and told me to stand outside so my clothes wouldn’t hold the scent. I smelled like fabric softener blankets, because she washed my shirts. Instead of laying on the couch, waiting for Anita’s mother to pick me up for school, I stood outside, right on the cusp of spring, waiting for a dark blue Jeep Cherokee. Waiting for another morning rife with reminders that I was never fully finished: one paper became two, one topic expanded into the next. And we were all numbers, ranked against each other, waiting even more for exciting university acceptances and surprising rejections. Who’d get into the big schools this year? Would anyone take time off? Mrs. Bishop stressed that you could only try your absolute best, and that there would always be someone smarter than you. Better than you. And, sometimes, that person was sitting next to you during first period. You dealt with it, asked them for help, and hoped they’d be kind, even generous, about it. Despite Mrs. Bishop’s spiel, I wanted to become the best at something, even if only in our tiny sample of eager pre-college students. Even if it warranted sleep deprivation, ostracism, or self-destructive behavior. I thought about an angle by which I could approach this each day. I became serious about school the day after a classmate planted the idea in my head that everyone assorted themselves around the classroom based on a gradient of intelligence—with the “smart” kids sitting to the far right, and the “dumb” ones sitting to their left, and closest to the door. She picked up her books, and decided to join the others to the right, claiming that her current seat made her feel inadequate. I knew the scatter of loose papers, inked with C’s and dog-eared D’s that I stuffed into my bio folder, didn’t speak to my intelligence. Nor was I applying myself. But, the idea that someone would collect her purse, binder, and pencil case to squeeze into a tight space across the room because the students on that side were “smarter” was absurd. Or was it? I may not have changed my seat that day, but something gruesome happened nonetheless. I became hobbyless. Ultimately, I vowed that I’d dedicate myself to proving everyone wrong about my intellectual shortcomings by bringing up each grade by a letter—even two. I’d have to deploy a tunnel vision strategy, spend weekend afternoons reading and organizing my binders, and pick up a few tutoring sessions, but I was set on making an A in every class. I still wouldn’t understand trig, nor would I like bio lab. But I could prove that improvement was my niche. I could be the underdog. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Photographic Homage to NorthsideBy Quail Bell Social Butterfly QuailBellMagazine.com #NewRelicsForTheOldAcrimony #SpencerTurner #1212Gallery #RVA #Art Event #BPRVA #PhotoInstallation
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Put Quail Bell under your pillow at night.Do you dream of Quail Bell? Then maybe it's time to bring your one true love home. Order your copy of Quail Bell: Issue 4—40-something full-color pages of imaginary, nostalgic, and otherworldly satire from a variety of talented writers and illustrators. Buy yours. #QuailBell #Zines #AlternativePublishing #SmallPress #Satire #Subscribe #Subscriptions #Shop
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You Might Feel Dirty Eating ThisBy Claire LeDoyen QuailBellMagazine.com According to Jezebel, this year’s hot food trend is going to be… Dirt. A restaurant in Japan is featuring a whole menu starring black dirt soil, a special kind of dirt known for its incredible fertility found in Kanuma, Tochigi Prefecture. Check out the full menu here. The United States has a Black Dirt region as well, located in upstate New York and parts of New Jersey. I tried to reimagine the Ne Quittez Pas menu as an American cuisine, with produce and ingredients from our special Black Dirt region. So, without further ado, I introduce the Quail Bell Café Soil Specials: The first course is a house salad with dirt vinaigrette; fresh lettuce, tomato, radishes, carrots and shallots from the area drizzled with a vinaigrette featuring black dirt to cut the acidity. Tastes like a garden. Our award-winning onion soup is simmered for an hour and is peppered with the soil from onion retrieved from the earth just minutes before cooktime. Paying homage to Tokyo restaurant Ne Quittez Pas, our dirt risotto with bass is a succulent smallmouth bass from the Wallkill River (which flows through Ulster county, and the black dirt region) sauteed in soil and fried with burdock root flown in from a premier region in Japan. For wintry fare, try our root vegetable pot pie. We sprinkle soil into the thick pastry crust, giving a full and earthy aroma and taste. With onion, sweet potato, parsnips and carrots this is a perfect entrée for the fall and winter. We also have handmade sun-dried tomato Polish sausages with dirt, served with black dirt onions and bell peppers on a roll. Our lamb shoulder is a mouthwatering cut of meat covered in an onion sauce inspired from our famed onion soup. A must try for a special occasion! For dessert, try our brown butter spice cake. This cake is loaded with flavor, and a surefire pleaser after the pot pie or lamb. With acorn and winter squash and the rich soil that comes with them, this spice cake is packed with everything from cinnamon to pepper and garam masala. Topped with walnuts and brown sugar crystals. According to Time Magazine, eating dirt is also known as geophagy. Some believe that it can boost your immune system. Dirt has also been considered a healthy food item for pregnant women. Dietitians like Rebecca Scritchfield, in Washington D.C., reportedly told Yahoo! that dirt is not suitable for ingesting. But you decide—it's your stomach. #Soil #Dirt #Food #WeirdEats #Culinary #AcquiredTaste #Nasty #Um #Digestion #Dining #Restaurants The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Crime, Mystery and FeminismBy Zack Budryk QuailBellMagazine.com Stephen King once said that, to some extent, horror is an inherently reactionary genre; the standard plot is a variation on the idea of some dark, evil external force disrupting the status quo. Just look at H.P. Lovecraft, whose themes of inhuman horror and dark secrets were inextricably linked with his own paranoia that he had non-white ancestry. The same could be said of police or detective fiction; they’re about agents of order discovering and dispatching a social deviate of some kind. That’s why the noir genre shook things up so much; far from tying things up with a neat bow, noir often features themes of institutional corruption, and it’s very rare for simply the discovery or apprehension of the culprit to result in a happy ending. In terms of the whodunit as institutional critique, 2013’s excellent BBC miniseries Top of the Lake set its sights on a particularly ambitious target—rape culture, and to some extent, Western masculinity in general. The miniseries, set in a secluded New Zealand town, stars Elisabeth Moss as Robin Griffin, a police detective investigating the disappearance of Tui Mitchum, a pregnant 12-year-old. The series’ real villain isn’t whoever spirited her away, nor is it the father of the child (indeed, we never find out for sure who he is); the villain is the town of Laketop itself, where a known rapist is a regular bar patron with no objections and the other barflies say things like, “No one likes a feminist except a lesbian.” Tui’s father, a local gangster who screams at the all-female commune set up adjacent to his land that they’re “unfuckable,” is part of this system, but so are more restrained examples like the local police chief, who laughs off Robin’s clear disinterest in his flirting. In one scene, Robin literally cordons off the entire town, demanding to DNA test every male resident to determine the father. The metaphor is clear: all of them are complicit, regardless of their factual guilt. Similarly, despite a central mystery (this time involving a serial killer), the new HBO anthology series True Detective is also very much a story about masculinity. The alpha-male culture of a Louisiana police department makes Det. Rust Cohle (Matthew McConaughey), a brooding intellectual known as “the taxman” because he carries a full ledger rather than a notebook, simultaneously a good fit and a distinct outsider. Cohle, significantly, remains stone-faced and nearly expressionless throughout, his face only shifting slightly for the first time when his PTSD is triggered. He is a clear example of what former NFL quarterback Don McPherson refers to as the “performance” of masculinity. It’s the kind of stoicism that his partner Marty Hart (Woody Harrelson) speaks approvingly of, reminiscing, Archie Bunker-style about a time when men didn’t discuss their “personal bullshit,” and yet that internalization is clearly slowly killing Cohle. Cohle, as the AV Club’s Erik Adamsputs it, “uses [his] malfunction as a way of keeping up appearances.” Crime itself has long been presented as a man’s world, so naturally themes of patriarchy and masculinity have cropped up in film and TV representations thereof. Tony Soprano often bemoaned the disappearance of the “Gary Cooper type” among modern men, worrying his own panic attacks and reliance on therapy made him a failure as a patriarch. In Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street, one of the constant signifiers of the white-collar criminal protagonists’ decadence is their objectification of women, and in one scene Leonardo DiCaprio’s title character takes it further by miming sexual domination of a client as he sells him worthless stock by phone. And Walter White, the protagonist of Breaking Bad, regularly insisted, as he slipped further into depravity, that it was all to provide for his family in his role as a husband and father--a justification adopted by the disturbing number of fans who remained his apologists to the series’ end. But Top of the Lake and True Detective are something newer—the use of the noir/crime genre specifically as a vehicle for a critique of masculinity and the patriarchy. It’s an exciting idea, one that turns on its head the idea of the detective as a stock male American hero archetype, like the cowboy or the astronaut. We talk a lot about the power of feminist themes in fiction to impact young minds, but these distinctly adult shows can start a similar dialogue. Think of the metaphor of the frog who doesn’t realize the water it sits in is being brought to a boil; you may not sit down thinking you’re watching a show about masculinity, patriarchy or the violence inherent therein, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ll likely be thinking about those themes by the time the episode ends, and riveted all the way there. #TopOfTheLake #TrueDetective #InstitutionalCritique #Noir #CrimeDrama #Stephen King
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Capital ZinestersNow that the Brooklyn 'Zine Fest recently closed its application to prospie tablets, I wanted to check in on the 'zine scene in Washington, D.C. I caught up with Ariana Stone of the DC Zinefest via email. Her words presented to you in a non-Xeroxed, digital format: Who exactly organizes the DC Zinefest and why? What are its origins? 2014 will be the fourth DC Zinefest of all time! As for the origins of the Fest, I'll let Jenna Brager's sweet comic speak for itself. Jenna came up with the idea of throwing a DCZF in the first place back in 2011: http://www.shareable.net/blog/so-you-wanna-have-a-zinefest. The DCZF has historically been organized by a core group of volunteers who meet from January up until the Fest in the summer. In 2013, there were six main organizers and a handful of amazing volunteers who made it all happen. A few of us have been making zines for years; a few of us have just jumped in. Each of us does this because we’re super pumped about zines. A lot of times when I’m tabling for the Fest or telling people about it, they’ll mention that they thought zines disappeared around, like, the era of the Monica Lewinsky scandal. The international zine community is not as active as it was in decades prior, but we're in the middle of a resurgence for sure. Cities like Chicago and DC have resurrected long-dead zinefests, zinesters like Mimi Nguyen have started publishing zines again after years of silence, and new zines, zinefests, and distros are emerging at rates that we haven't seen since the early 2000's. Though technology has played a part in zine culture for a long time (for example, the Pandaboard and the various zinester Yahoo! and LJ groups), it's pretty fascinating to see modern technology’s effect on zine culture, with regards to community-building (like using social media to promote real-life events) or artistic possibilities (photo editing, design). (But seriously, who’s going to make the first 3-D printed zine?) How would you describe the 'zine, book art, and alternative art communities in DC? (I can only really speak to the zine community, not the other two!) D.C.’s zine community may not seem like much on the surface. We don’t really have a central space that has a committed, public zine library, like Atomic Books or Red Emma’s in Baltimore. When I first moved to the city five years ago, there was an infoshop that had a really nice library up for perusal, but that space—and many other similar spaces in years prior—have disappeared. Real estate in D.C. ain’t cheap. Smash! Records in Adam’s Morgan has a nice little collection. So while there is a significant number of people in the District making zines (just check out all the locals who tabled in 2013!), there are fewer obvious physical spaces in D.C. to actually acquire them. People have to get creative: send their stuff to distros, table at festivals across the coast and country, leave them at coffee shops, pass them out at events like shows, mail them, and so on. How does DC Zinefest compare to those of, say, Brooklyn and Richmond? What are its biggest strengths? What are some ways the festival might change in coming years? Our biggest advantage—and disadvantage—is how young we are. We don’t really have much institutional memory to go off of, because the Fest is only a few years old. Instead of having to reinvent the wheel, we’re building the wheel for the first time in a lot of cases. There are so many components to think about when you organize an event like this. How do you choose who will table if you have an insane amount of applicants and a limited space? How are you going to keep hundreds of people cool in the middle of the hellish D.C. summer heat? How do you resolve conflicts that may arise at the event? For the love of god, who is going to pick up the bagels? We faced hundreds of questions like these over the course of organizing the fest. For some of these questions, we didn’t have an answer at first. But now we have a good foundation to build on for Fests to come. In the future, we’re interested in more clearly articulating our policies re: providing a “safer space” because that definitely caused some issues for us this year. A few of us made the trek down to Richmond 'Zine Fest last fall to table and drum up support for DCZF2014. I think we have a lot in common with RVAZF—both are relatively small and new fests, and we attract a lot of the same tablers, partially due to our geographic proximity. I haven’t been to Chicago or Brooklyn 'Zine Fests, but I hear they’re sort of in a different ballpark with how huge they are. Maybe that’s in the cards for us some day, but we’re taking it year by year for now! What has been your favorite aspect of organizing the festival? I’ve got to say, the biggest highlight for me is getting to know the other organizers and volunteers. Totally corny but totally true. It really became a struggle near the end there to prevent meetings from being three hours because we would spend half the time laughing. A good problem, I’d say. You can't really avoid it when you spend week after week together, as we did. Our personalities are all completely different but I think they meshed together in a really nice way. And of course, can anything really top Zinefest day itself? It’s stressful and wild but I really felt on top of the world that day. I don’t think I stopped grinning like an idiot the entire time. Seeing all these people from all over gather to share their art is inspiring. I wanted to go home and hug my Sharpie collection afterwards. What can festival-goers expect to see this year? It's a little early to give a preview, but I have a good feeling about this year: bigger, better, with more events and collaboration with other cities. #DCZineFest #Zines #Interview #WashingtonDC #DCArt #AlternativeArt #AlternativePublishing #Underground
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We're bringing winter back!Just when you thought DMV would never get a real hint of winter again, snow fell upon us. Now that it's gone, you might miss it. Get back into the spirit of winter wonder by heating up some hot chocolate and watching the snow fall here for three-quarters of an hour. It might be just the cold kick you need. #Snow #Winter #January #Jan2014 #RVA #Richmond #WeirdWeather #GlobalWarming #FlipCam
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Settling for Second BestBy Fay Funk QuailBellMagazine.com It is 2014, and there are only two years left of Barack Obama’s second presidential term. Osama bin Laden is dead and health care reform has gone into effect, and yet our country feels largely the same, with no massive changes really occurring. So the question remains: What should Obama do now?
The Obama presidency has been disappointing. Like many people, I got swept up in the hope and change rhetoric, and really believed that Barack Obama could make this country a better place. Maybe that makes our nation’s current state extra disappointing, but I don’t think I’m being too hard on Obama when I say he is a lackluster president. He is not the worst president ever, but he is far from the best. His only major accomplishment so far has been health care reform, and even without the fiasco of the website and technical difficulties the law does not even get close to the sweeping change in health care this country needs. With such passionate opposition from the Republican Party the Affordable Care Act was never going be as extensive as it needed to be, but it could have been much better executed than it was. And that is, after all, the job of the executive branch, to execute the law. While trying to identify why Obama fell so short my sister pointed out something interesting. Barack Obama is just too smart to be president. He is an academic, and while he can unpack and analyze the law like no other and I’m sure his Constitutional Law class at the University of Chicago was life-changing, those skills do not always translate into good leadership. Knowing in theory how politics should work is a far cry from the combination of shrewd practicality and finesse it takes to be an effective president. So I think Matt Miller’s Consensus Project idea, outlined in his article in The Washington Post called “What Obama Should Do Now,” has legs. Given the gridlock in Congress right now, there is little chance that Obama can accomplish anything meaningful. So Obama can either rely on symbolic gestures and minor executive action, the default option, or he can launch a massive educational campaign to change public opinion on a grand scale so that his successor will have a better chance of creating meaningful change. Obama would essentially become a TV host. It seems like a good idea. The Consensus Project plays to Obama’s strengths as an educator and an orator, and as the president he has an unparalleled platform. Rather than change public opinion, which can be very difficult to do, Obama’s educational campaign might actually give a large number of Americans an opinion, something that is lacking in the United States. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Collage as Mental SurgeryBy Sara Allie QuailBellMagazine.com I was eager to attend B. Faulkner’s Art showcase, The Beautiful Wilderness, at the David Mikow Art Gallery in Catonsville, Maryland at the tail end of 2013. I had already known of the recent UMBC grad's artistic abilities yet this collage showcase displayed a fairly new aesthetic to her style and body of work. B. Faulkner is a writer and mixed media artist who decided to divert from her camera during this particular journey. She wanted to reimagine the world from her head instead of her lens, using collage as a weapon. In doing so, she created a vision that investigates identity, gender and transformation. She wanted viewers to see her vision through the windows of Baltimore. She speaks of the collage as “surgeries that happened inside [her] bedroom walls, under a single bulb from a desk lamp done to the harmonious sounds of hypnotic tarring of magazine pages, newspapers, and art books.” The essence of Faulkner's artistry comes through in her exhibition, The Beautiful Wilderness, entailing fragments of paper that are torn and redesigned and photographed. The Beautiful Wilderness depicts the mudane yet traditional rituals of a black woman. Although the action of combing a child’s hair seems frivolous, it is a tradition that is held sacred among black women. Faulkner describes The Beautiful Wilderness as a comma in her artistry career. Look forward to the next clause. #FineArt #VisualArt #Collage #MixedMedia #BlackArt #Catonsville #DavidMikowArtGallery #Baltimore #BlackWomen
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A Refresher Course for Police, Cyclists and Motorists The City of Richmond is trying to develop a reputation as a bike friendly place. The efforts being made by the local government are unfortunately the sort of top-down, out of touch actions unlikely to make riding a bike any easier for people in Richmond for years to come. The time has come to call out the superficial attempts at creating a bike friendly town, and point out some of the areas that actually need to be addressed to make truly create a culture that shares the road. Because it is a matter of life, limb and making a living for many of us. Mayor Dwight Jones led a bike ride for National Bike to Work Day, which seems progressive enough on the surface. But of course, Mayor Jones got a security detail to ride with him. Something your average bike rider doesn't have on a daily basis to keep them safe. Two of my friends have recently experienced the utter lack of friendliness Richmond has to offer cyclists. And they have it better off than some, who suffer a more tragic fate. The frightening injuries to my friends prompted me to write this article, in hopes of adding to efforts of changing the culture of the roads in RVA. One of my friends David Deese, 27, has lived in Richmond since 2007 and works at the Cask and Quickness RVA. Recently, he was waiting at a red light heading North on Robinson and Main Street. A truck turning from Main onto Robinson struck David while he was at a stand still. His bike and body both suffered as a result. To make matters worse, he later discovered that the way the officer who had responded filled out the paperwork put David at a distinct disadvantage when it came to dealing with the truck driver's insurance company. The officer for unknown reasons filed the driver as definitely not drinking and David as unsure, while putting down that neither of the parties involved were tested for alcohol consumption. Yet, selection was filed differently. Also, the report said there were no lights on David's bike while there was a front light attached to the fork and a rear light on his seat post. Now David has to try to figure out getting a lawyer, or filing a complaint, or something in order to get compensation for his damages and injuries from the motorist. Frustrated, David said, "The police report was very biased against the cyclists, and feel that had I been in a car or a pedestrian, none of this would be happening right now." Another respected member of the bike community I spoke with reiterated that the police response to cyclists needs to change. He pointed out though that the complication is often that even if a cyclist knows their rights and is prepared to speak up in their defense and be assertive in order to get fair treatment, the trauma of being struck by a car shakes them up to the point where they forget to speak up. Cyclists do not have the protection offered by a steel car, and even slow speed crashes can severely rattle the most experienced cyclists. To that point, my other friend who was recently struck by a car was ticketed by the Richmond Police for 'failure to yield' while she was unconscious with a fractured hip and cranial bleeding. The driver of the car was speeding and on a cell phone. My friend wasn't even given an opportunity to speak up. Witnesses to the incident report the officer yelling at the cyclist while they were in the gutter crying. And the driver of the car was apparently so distracted by her phone call that she didn't realize she had hit anyone until she saw people running in her rear view mirror. Something is very wrong when this sort of situation and variations of it keep popping up. I spoke to Frank Bucalo, owner of Quickness RVA, a bike delivery company. I asked him what he thought about bike culture in Richmond, and especially the issue of safety. His number one thing to change to create a more bike friendly Richmond was "Driver and cyclist awareness. Both ends need some practice, drivers need to be prepared for a cyclist to pop out of pretty much anywhere and cyclists need to be aware of where they are popping out of before they do so." Frank's take on the police was that they would be more useful to cyclists if they stopped motorists from texting while driving - visibility of cyclists is important for safety and texting drivers do not see them. Bike Lanes are one of the tactics used to create a city more friendly to bike traffic. The lanes create space on roads specifically for cyclists, and are usually marked off with lines, signs, and bikes painted on the path itself. Bike lanes are not always a positive thing, and issues of enforcement and laws created around them can even turn bike lanes into a negative for cyclists. Richmond has taken a rather odd interpretation on the bike lanes thing. We do have a few, emphasis on few, actual bike lanes. But instead of creating many bike lanes throughout the city, someone with the City went around and painted bike symbols on a bunch of streets. I suppose the purpose of these symbols is to acknowledge a bike's right to be there, but they don't actually create a bike lane, and to me it seems an attempt to look bike friendly without actually becoming bike friendly. The keeping up of appearances for a City gearing up to host the 2015 cycling championships. The other concern with bike lanes, is that sometimes the presence of bike lanes or bike symbols painted on the asphalt, makes motorists feel that bikes don't belong on any streets without those symbols or lanes. Another project being pursued by local government is the Floyd Avenue Bicycle Boulevard - turning a 2 mile stretch of the Avenue through the Fan into a primarily bike thoroughfare. The plan is costly, and City Council has already put a half million towards starting the planning phase. I think a more positive impact would come through turning Carytown into a pedestrian mall. I'm no fan of Charlottesville, but I think their Downtown Mall as a almost completely pedestrain space is very positive. Converting Carytown to no-car would have a larger impact than a Floyd Avenue Bike Boulevard. At the end of the day, a combination of better education and fair enforcement is needed to make Richmond a bike friendly city. Cyclists must take responsibility for their presence on the roads, understanding that things like bike lights are vital for self defense. And motorists need to learn to accept cyclists on the roads, and keep focused on driving to protect everyone involved. Police need to ensure that when they fill out reports they are doing so fairly. People on bikes in Richmond are riding for exercise, saving money, speed, and even for their jobs. We are a part of the community, and part of the local economy. The Virginia Bike Laws are an important read for motorists as well as cyclists. Brush up on the laws, share them with your friends, and be alert. #Bicycle #BikeLanes #RVA #QuicknessRVA #Cycling #BikeFriendly #RVABikeLaws #MayorJones #SharetheRoad
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Marc Jacobs Chooses Badly with Miley Miley Cyrus is the new celebrity face for Marc Jacobs’ Spring/Summer 2014 advertisement campaign. Pictures slowly began leaking last week. Marc Jacobs’ preferred photographer, Juergen Teller, refused to shoot Cyrus for the ads. Instead, David Sims did the photography, making the photos much darker and more intense than a typical Marc Jacobs ad. These ads feature impeccable clothing with interesting shots, but my question is: Why Miley? Miley Cyrus and I are one month apart in age. Listening to her in interviews talking about her music and what it means to her along with her perception of fame is nothing less than infuriating. She speaks of herself as a character whilst simultaneously wishing to give a vulnerable, genuine impression. Her lack of charisma and professionalism comes off as sloppy and portrays a lack of passion in her work. Women my age have a hard enough time trying to be taken seriously. We do not need a young woman aimlessly throwing herself at whatever will get her publicity, and we certainly do not need her all over fashion magazines telling us she is the ideal representation of a brand. I am an avid fan of Marc Jacobs and seeing her becoming a style icon due in part to his advertisements makes me uncomfortable. I see a style icon as someone with grace and confidence, along with intelligence, passion and eloquent words to back up their aesthetic choices. They need to teach the public that clothing extends their personality and that clothing is not shallow. Miley Cyrus does just the opposite in the way she presents herself. Her personality and style both come with an expiration date. This makes Marc Jacobs look like a short-term thinker in terms of brand personality and the absence of Teller should have weighed heavier on the designer than it did. #MileyCyrus #MarcJacobs #Fashion #Celebrities #CelebrityNews #Opinions #Looks #Advertising The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Rain, Rain, Please Stay By Quail Ears QuailBellMagazine.com From a windowsill in The Fan on a rainy Wednesday night. #Audio #Photography #Alley #TheFan #RVA #Rain #Windows #View #Night #Melancholy
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Vivre la France!By Neill Caldwell QuailBellMagazine.com Winter in the City of Love is perhaps gloomier than you might expect, but everyone prefers to remember it in its full glory. May these pictures get you through this snowy day in DMV! #Paris #NotreDame #TheLouvre #Catherdral #Museum #FerrisWheel #France #Travel #Photography
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The Back of a Corolla on Canal StreetView from the back of a Corolla on Canal Street in Richmond; 45 minutes reduced to 6. #Corolla #CanalStreet #Richmond #RVA #Traffic #StreetView #WinterDay #Mundane #CoolCauseISaidSo The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
"Fat" is not a bad word.By Zack Budryk QuailBellMagazine.com My wife is a gorgeous, brilliant, badass woman, a fact that’s clear to anyone who knows her and anyone who’s ever heard me talk about her. She’s also fat (in the interest of full disclosure, this column was written with her permission). This is a term both she and I use not as an insult, but as a neutral descriptor, and sometimes people are confused by that. For instance, over Christmas we stayed at my mom’s house in Richmond. At one point, my wife referred to herself as “fat,” to which Ma immediately launched into a litany of “Aw, don’t say that”s and “You look fine”s, as though my wife had said something horribly insulting about herself. This made her distinctly uncomfortable, particularly since earlier during our visit, during a discussion of music, my mom had said, apropos of nothing, that Adele was inferior to Amy Winehouse because she was fat. When you read these two moments side by side, it’s hard not to read the subtext: You’re not fat, because if you were, you’d be deserving of scorn. This is all part of a broader phenomenon that I call the One of the Good Ones Effect. We hear a lot about how having a personal connection to a marginalized group may make you reevaluate your feelings, such as Ohio Republican Sen. Rob Portman declaring his support for marriage equality last year after his son came out, or this 2012 Reddit thread in which multiple posters admit that having daughters made them reevaluate misogynistic attitudes. But there’s another way this can go: some people just decide that individual experiences that don’t fit with their worldview don’t “count.” In Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, the protagonist, Mookie, points out to Pino, the racist son of a pizzeria owner, that, even as he rails against “n---ers,” his favorite athlete is Magic Johnson and his favorite movie star is Eddie Murphy. “They’re different,” is Pino’s only justification. Body positivity is a hot topic nowadays, in large part due to high-profile figures like Jennifer Lawrence and Lena Dunham speaking out on it. But unfortunately, even with these voices, we tend to be taking one step forward and two steps back. When Lawrence told Barbara Walters in December that “it should be illegal to call someone fat,” in context she clearly meant something closer to “It should be illegal to body-shame,” but she did it in a way that goes along with the prevailing narrative that “fat” is intrinsically negative (besides which, as blogger Jenny Trout observed, “a woman who looks like Jennifer Lawrence doesn't have to shop for her clothes in online stores because no physical storefronts carry her size.”). Similarly, when Howard Stern mocked Dunham in 2013 as a “little fat chick who kind of looks like Jonah Hill” and compared watching her do nude scenes to being raped, Dunham called into an apologetic Stern’s show and defended herself as “not that fat” and “super thin for, like, Detroit.” This is even more unfortunate than Lawrence’s remarks because not only is Dunham treating “fat” as a negative, she’s also paying homage to its close cousin, the idea that there’s a cutoff point for body positivity (and adding creepy, racist undertones with the “Detroit” non sequitur). People who look askance at Dunham and Lawrence often contrast them with Oscar nominee Gabourey Sidibe, of Precious and American Horror Story fame, who, unlike the two of them, is not only actually fat, but has gotten very few roles that could be played by someone who wasn’t fat (or black, for that matter). Would Sidibe be as warmly embraced, they wonder, if she adopted Lawrence’s disdain for dieting or Dunham’s casual attitude about nudity? That’s why it was so refreshing to see Sidibe’s tweet after the Golden Globes this week, “To people making mean comments about my GG pics, I mos def cried about it on that private jet on my way to my dream job last night. #JK”, go viral. As someone who’s neither a woman nor fat, I’m far less qualified to be a standard-bearer for body positivity than Sidibe, Lawrence or Dunham. My advocacy comes not from personal experience, but from a belief that when you speak up for somebody you love, you accept their input on how best to do it, and that means spending more time listening and less time saying things like “You’re not fat, you’re beautiful,” as though they were mutually exclusive. As blogger Marianne Kirby puts it, “I really, truly am fat. Telling me I am not supposes that I haven’t noticed the size of my own ample ass. And if you truly believe that then you don’t think highly enough of me to be paying me any compliments anyway.” #BodyImage #BodyPositive #SelfEsteem #Fat #Fatness #SkinnyPrivilege #Looks #Bodies #PhysicalBeauty |
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