Archive for the ‘Rants’ Category

What Is It With You People?

Wednesday, April 6th, 2016

Vladimir Clavijo Telepnev tears

I go to all the trouble to create a website called Hideous Denim, and what do I get?

Nothing.

You people are obviously too lazy to go over there and enjoy my expertly curated collection of the most hideous, fucked up denim monstrosities ever to blight this earth. It’s just laziness, because I know that in your hearts, you want to see ugly denim.

So guess what, you’re going to see some right now, because that’s how nice I am, and because I’ve lived a whole life of not being able to get people to cooperate with me.

bandana denim jeans

Here are the Bandana Jeans brought to you by provocateur Nazir Mazhar, a street-wear designer who expects you to pay $715.78 for the discomfort and humiliation. Look at the rear view:

bandana rear view

Three is only one pair left, size medium.

But don’t worry because this:

hideous junya jacket and skirt

Now this is just perfect on so many levels. Junya Watanabe signifies your appreciation of Japanese design, while breaking your bank account and making you look like a nutcase. I am sad to report that this outfit has sold out, but behold the skirt.

hideous junya skirt

Can you imagine anything more unflattering? So gorgeous! The real job of hideous denim is to mock the consumer on all levels. I’d say this Junya outfit is a ten out of ten.

What about something really, really stupid and embarrassingly twee, like a denim romper?

denim valentino playsuit 2490

Excuse me, it’s a playsuit, of course. And fairly priced at $2,490. How to wear it, you’re wondering as you hunt for your credit card? Read on.

denim valentino playsuit text

Not only playful, but DARLING! I fucking love this text. Hideous denim is even more rewarding when the text lives up to the fraudulence of the piece itself.

We are living in some rough times, aren’t we? I mean, we’re not eating dirt in Calcutta but we are fighting off existential dread from morning to night, watching our Netflix shows and compulsively checking our devices, waiting for the seas to rise or some maniac to shoot us or be elected President.

We deserve some relief, and that’s why god created all this awful hideous denim, even though he’s away from his desk.

So please enjoy.

 

 

 

Donald Trump: Is The Nightmare Over?

Friday, April 1st, 2016

trump ugly face

After all we have endured from this piece of shit, it’s hard to believe that his comment about abortion is the thing that broke the spell.

Who knew that people cared so much about women’s rights? It seemed like a majority of Americans were in favor of rolling back Roe vs Wade, and that’s been scary.

But lo and behold, Trump’s absurd statement that women who have abortions should be punished is striking a chord with everyone. For some reason, this is where they’re drawing the line.

I hope.

The news is telling me tonight that the tide has turned. Please make it be true!

Remember when it was fun to see Trump’s bloated red face, emitting outrageous noises that no one in their right mind would ever say if they were running for President, or even Boyscout Leader?

The fun turned to horror, didn’t it? I head a reporter call him a ‘steaming pile of human refuse’ on MSNBC the other night, and it felt like an understatement.

Now we’re hearing that women won’t support Tump, which makes perfect sense, but what the fuck has been wrong with men in that case?

Racism doesn’t begin to explain the attraction. Neither does the ‘people are sick of the status quo’ argument. They could have sided with Rand Paul if all they wanted was a maverick.

What is it about a fat loud bully that American men find so appealing? Is it some kind of projection? Is it a vicarious thrill to see some shameless lowlife insulting his betters?

My visceral hatred of this cunt has reached defcon whatever. His every facial movement is like a knife in my heart. That O-shape he makes with his mouth. The plump frown. The crazy hand motions and the way he says “believe me” twice after every ridiculous lie.

Is it over for real? Can we actually get out of this without anyone getting killed? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

I blame the press. I blame Donald Trump’s parents. And I blame the Idiocracy that America’s anti-intellectualism has spawned. Feel more comfortable with stupidity, America? How stupid is stupid enough?

Sure, Ted Cruz is a crazy prick and Kasich is a jerk. But there is nothing on earth as awful as Donald Trump.

Let us pray.

 

Cunts!

Wednesday, March 30th, 2016

Cunt wall

I was just recoiling from the word “lady”when used in neologisms like ladyboss or lady-parts, when I came across this horrifying tidbit about the Vagina Monologues:

Eve Ensler’s Vagina Monologue “Reclaiming Cunt” spells out every letter and encourages the audience to see the word as beautiful, powerful and sexy rather than disgusting, degrading and ugly. In one of the most powerful pieces of theatre I’ve seen, the audience is invited to chant the word “cunt” back at the person delivering the monologue.

God. I had no idea.

That’s theater, yelling ‘cunt?’

Not a day goes by that I don’t yell Cunt, several times in fact, either at the TV or my computer. I can’t believe that cunt is still such a big deal. But it is, according to the Guardian:

“Cunt” is still regarded as the most shocking word in the English language. Its consonants are acerbically hard, its meaning unequivocal.

Its meaning is unequivocal?? Not at all. Often, it just means “dude” as in “some cunt took my parking space.” Other times, it might mean bitch, like “Look at what that cunt Hillary just said about Bernie.”

If the Guardian thinks it means “vagina,” that’s just stupid. No one uses ‘cunt’ that way. And if they did, so what?

Why is ‘cunt’ worse than”pussy?” I guess I’ll never understand the negative power of a word I find so useful and even fun!

Getting back to “lady” though, ugh, horrible. Remember ladyboner? Horrible. Ladyboy is kind of cute, though, because it’s confusing or because Amy Winehouse used it, but otherwise lady-anything is just grating to my ear and somehow repulsive.

Here are the other words that have bothered me this week:

jettisoned (used by a blogger who meant ‘threw away’)
China (as enunciated by Donal Trump)
crossbody (a type of handbag)
sneaks (for sneakers, ew!)
substantive (quick. try saying it 3 times)
intersectional ( pc gibberish)

Your turn, if you’ve got anything.

 

 

 

Hooray For Rape Victims

Tuesday, March 1st, 2016

lady-gaga-absue-survivors

When Lady Gaga sang her song about sexual abuse during the Academy Awards show, I couldn’t help calling out to my husband, “Oh look, they actually have rape victims onstage!”

He came to look and smiled appreciatively at the awful showbiz spectacle of rape victims raising their arms triumphantly. Some had written anti-stigma hashtags on themselves like ITS NOT YOUR FAULT.

So I was surprised to read all the praise heaped on this performance, everywhere I looked. “Stunning,” “Powerful,” Brave”!

I may be walking on this ice by using the words “rape victims” instead of “sexual assault survivors.” I guess victim is now considered too victimmy. And rape is too rapey.

Some websites are calling the song a “rape anthem” but others are trying to avoid calling it anything but “empowering”.

Rape is terrible, okay? I have experienced it as a reckless teenager, more than once. I guess I have experienced a lot of bad things. I consider myself more traumatized than the average person.

But I never like to see public displays of self-righteousness. I don’t like seeing victims of some horrible societal ill become a poster child for whatever it is – gay suicide, bullying, fat-shaming, you name it.

Rape, incest, murder, racism, Sharia law, child abuse, hate crimes, it’s all bad. Except for Donald Trump supporters, we all agree.

But these issues are too serious to be cheapened by a Vegas floor show or an Oscars shout-out. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t instinctively recoil from the Hollywoodization of human suffering! I don’t know why everyone doesn’t register disgust when social problems are shrink-wrapped in sanctimonious, self-congratulating sound-bites or hash-tags.

Where are the eating-disorder people, the clitorectomy survivors, the child soldiers of Africa, the middle school sexting suicides? What about the unemployed Veteran amputees? Will they all get their turns for a standing ovation at the Academy awards?

Nothing is too sacred to be fodder for pop commercialism or pious condemnation. Today, celebrities are falling over themselves to confess that they’ve been sexually abused, too. One had to clarify that it was “child abuse” in her case. Let’s hope she wasn’t run out of town for speaking out of turn.

I asked my husband to help me understand the difference between Common and John Legend performing “Glory” at the Oscars last year, and the Lady Gaga performance. “Glory” didn’t piss me off. It was a polemic but it was magnificent!

He answered, “One was good art, and the other was bad art.”

So there’s that, too.

Thoughts, anyone?

First Wordist Manifesto of 2016: Voracious

Saturday, January 23rd, 2016

the marriage feast

In the last few days, my sensitivity to words has been causing problems at home. It’s like a chronic low-grade illness that sometimes becomes acute.

I was starting to read an essay on millennials when the word ‘peruse’ caused me to make a snap judgement: Anyone who would use the word ‘peruse’, in the first paragraph no less, was not worth my time.

I brought this up to my husband, who saw no reason to react to ‘peruse.’

It’s hard for me to accept that some people just don’t care about words that much. Probably most people. It’s such a real, visceral response for me when a word is used poorly or is just intrinsically awful, like peruse.

Some words just make me cringe, even though they are apparently harmless to others. But peruse, come on! There’s just no reason to use it unless you’re deliberately trying to sound stupid. It’s like using ‘loquacious’ when you could just say ‘talkative.’ Or using ‘sans’ for ‘without.’

I wanted to think of a term for this category of annoying words that connote an effort to sound smart. I have only come up with ‘bourgeois’ but I’m hoping for something better.

Meanwhile, someone on the radio yesterday said this about some guy who died:

He was a voracious joke-teller.

My brain went AAAAAAAAAAAAH.

You can’t be a voracious joke-teller, I complained. Maybe the guy was an inveterate joke-teller. Voracious implies an appetite or hunger. It’s bad enough that people always use the cliche ‘voracious reader’ but at least it is used correctly.

I could not get agreement from my husband so I turned to my nephew, a wordist of the highest order. He suggested ‘avid’ for the joke-teller.

Genius, right? Meanwhile, my husband and I retreated into our separate worlds of not caring and caring obsessively about voracious joke telling.

I turned to the Oxford Dictionary online to soothe my nerves.

Definition of voracious in English:
adjective
Wanting or devouring great quantities of food
he had a voracious appetite

Voracious implies something you can take in or ingest, then.  So you can’t be a voracious singer, duh.

But then, there is a second definition:  Having a very eager approach to an activity.  The example given is his voracious reading of literature. Elsewhere I found the example he was a voracious collector.

I’m going to stick to my guns about voracious joke-telling. It is an improper use of a word that was employed just to sound smart but ended up making me furious, but not as furious as those who are sick of my fucking wordist nitpicking.

If you have perused this whole rant, kindly opine on my condition whilst I consider upping my meds.

Cheers.

*extra points if that ‘Cheers’ put you over the top

Fuck!

Monday, January 18th, 2016

jesus wept again

What an awful week.

I have been struggling with the shock of losing David Bowie and its attendant triggers, and then the more prosaic helpless rage of dealing with my malfunctioning website that some fucker has been trying to hack.

I can’t add anything to the many beautiful words already written about David Bowie and his impact on music and culture. Lots of us feel the loss so personally that it has permeated everything…I am playing his music in my head every day. I am thinking about what it means to face death when you don’t welcome it. A new and heartbreaking perspective for me.

I can’t handle it. I can’t dwell in this sadness without going under so I am turning to hate.

Want to join me?

If you too are having an awful week for whatever reason, I invite you to redirect yourself to the cleansing joy of righteous disdain if not downright hatred.

I could not have discovered this awful girl at a better time!

Her name is Jessica Gebhart and she is featured in a video series called Denim Dudes.

Stop what you’re doing and watch this 35 second video. It is heaven. It will take your breath away.

Thank you Jessica, you are a fucking gift from god and I hate the ground you walk on! Never leave me.

How Much Less Could You Not Care?

Friday, October 23rd, 2015

back_to_the_future-poster

It just occurred to me that too many people online are mentioning Back To The Future. Maybe they’re making a sequel or prequel.

I actually love the term origin story, which I just learned this week. I love it because it’s stupid and pretentious and somehow millennial.  It’s the new way to say prequel as if that term wasn’t hard enough to get used to.

Anyway, Back To The Future was a great film at the time and my kid adored it. We saw it several times.

Now it is 2015 and I could not give a shit about Back To The Future on any level. I don’t care what the original cast is doing or what the remake or prequel or origin story is about. I’ve been done with it for years and years.

Likewise Star Wars. Could not care less. Literally. But too bad for me, because I am doomed to hear about it forever and ever. If I could not have to see the words Carrie Fisher even, I would consider it a small gift from the universe.

I’m through hearing about rape culture or anything remotely related to it. I get it, but I still don’t care. I’m through hearing about how Jennifer Lawrence didn’t get enough money. “Women in Hollywood,” I’m through hearing about your problems. I just don’t care.

Are you finding that your culture is obsessed with stuff you could not care less about? Even if it has gone viral (or especially if it has gone viral?)

Let me know what it is. Please share!

But just one more thing before I forget: How much do you not care about what happened on the Jimmy Fallon show last night? Why do we have to hear about it? Wouldn’t we have watched it when it was on, if we gave a shit about it? I don’t watch it expressly for the purpose of not knowing what was on it!

Christ!

Okay, now you.

Is Your Pubic Hair Silky?

Monday, October 12th, 2015

fur oil

Three young women noticed a vacuum in the marketplace for pubic hair grooming products, and voila! They formed a company to right that wrong, called Fur.

Because money.

Wait, I’m so sorry, I meant to say, because why shouldn’t we take care of our pubic hair like we take care of the hair on our heads? That is their thinking, apparently.

If only they had asked me that question, I would’ve answered, “Because our public hair is not scorched by styling tools, dye, sun and wind!” And because public has it’s own texture: that’s why they call it pubic hair.

Anyway, who needs common sense where grooming products are concerned, right? If you can be made to feel insecure or inadequate about any area of your body, you will consider buying a product. Let’s say your heels aren’t baby-smooth. You’ll buy one of those egg-shaped things to scrape away at your heels until they’re ready to diaper.

So, the creators of Fur realized that women are moving away from waxing, although according to Fashionista, that doesn’t mean “going totally 70’s.”

I mean, god no. The 70’s were like the fucking National Geographic, with all that public hair! Ugh, the horror of looking natural. Forget that. We’re talking more about “some hair” in the “nether regions.” Not a whole jungle, okay?

And that hair needs to be silky. It needs to be softened with a special oil that costs $39.

Fur Oil’s unique blend of lightweight oils softens pubic hair and clears pores for fewer ingrowns and healthier skin. The 100% natural formula is gently antiseptic, antimicrobial, and reduces inflammation.  Fur Oil can be used as frequently as desired to enhance pubic hair and skin, and is also suitable for use on the face and body.

Directions: Apply Fur Oil liberally to clean pubic hair and skin.  For best results use as part of a daily regimen.

Are you in? For another $32, you can buy Fur’s other product, Stubble Cream,

a lightweight, natural emulsion [that] smoothes prickly regrowth, clears pores for fewer ingrowns and protects pubic skin.

Obviously, I find this annoying and even depressing. It’s also misogyny pretending to be empowering or something. If you have pubic hair, it’s nice for your partner if you bathe regularly. Then, you’re good to go.

Not only is my pubic hair silky enough, my belly button is fine without any belly button products and so are my knees without knee products. I already have enough body issues and shit to keep myself in line, cosmetically.

Finally there is Fur’s packaging and font. The creators wanted something elegant and “timeless, like Chanel” but with the “shock factor of the words pubic hair.” To me, it looks clinical but kind of scary, with the truncated letter f lending it a German quality that makes me uneasy.

Why not just call it Führer, or even Führer For The Pussy?

Take it away before I get madder.

Alex James: What a Fucking Cunt!™

Monday, October 5th, 2015

kurt note jacket

Alex James is some cunt who has a menswear line called ‘Pleasures‘ whose first collection features t-shirts and jackets printed with Kurt Cobain‘s suicide note.

Listen you cunt Alex James: Kurt Cobain has a daughter who is a human person, as was Kurt himself. Can’t you find another way to get attention?

I don’t mind that the lookbook for this cheap crap is filmed in a graveyard. Memento mori, I get it.

Show off your dark sensibility, revel in your hipster miserableism, just leave real human suffering out of your attempts at commerce.

What a little fucker.

As a bonus, he is ‘creative brand manager’ for another street-wear company called ‘Publish’ whose manifesto is a classic piece of gibberish that includes the line “Casual with an heir of sophistication.”

LEARN TO SPELL, MOTHERFUCKER!

publish manifesto spelling

To sum up, Alex James is a fucking cunt and he’s ruined my evening.

Death Cafe: Stupid Or Awful?

Thursday, September 17th, 2015

death cafe website

Death Cafe is sort of a coffee klatch for would-be coroners. At present, it’s more of a movement than a physical space, with pop-up Death Cafe’s in 31 countries.

Here’s how Death Cafe defines itself:

At a Death Cafe people, often strangers, gather to eat cake, drink tea and discuss death.

Our objective is ‘to increase awareness of death with a view to helping people make the most of their (finite) lives’

How nice! Because, who doesn’t like death? You can never have enough death, evidently. But here’s what Death Cafe isn’t:

It is a discussion group rather than a grief support or counselling session.

It’s not a spelling class either, but that’s okay. What isn’t okay for me is the concept of death as something cool because, you know, it’s so dark and transgressive. It’s like one big memento mori festival, full of arty skull motifs and and Victorian post-mortem photos.

Death Cafe is a ‘social franchise’. This means that people who sign up to our guide and principles can use the name Death Cafe, post events to this website and talk to the press as an affiliate of Death Cafe.

Yay, we can all host a Death Cafe if we follow the guidelines. I like this one: The main qualities of a host are enthusiasm for talking about death and dying and high ethical standards. That rules me out, since I have ethics but no enthusiasm.

I’m aware that a fetishistic interest in morbid things has long been a feature of hipsterism.  Taxidermy, Day of the Dead artifacts, the Morbid Anatomy Museum, zombies, all those tumblr pictures of dead girls in bathtubs. I get that it seems cool to embrace the taboo.

But this Death Cafe thing, no. A big No.

What a bunch of fatuous fuckers.

Cat Cafes, fine. *Baby Cafes, even better (*as soon as I get the idea off the ground. Contact me if you want to fund my business plan!)

Death is a drag and there’s already so much of it. It isn’t really cute. Let’s not trivialize it.