Stop Slut Shaming Miley Cyrus.

To make it known, I’m not a fan of pop music.  I don’t watch the VMAs or really awards shows in general.  I don’t know who most of the celebrities are.  And I’m kind of disgusted by most popular music.

To be clear, I think VMA performances should go like this:  (BTW, don’t call me old.  I was 6 when this happened)
Pearl Jam 1993 VMAs

He's talking about the world of music going black.

He’s talking about the world of music going black.

I know, I know.  Too many instruments.  Not enough glitter and distraction.  Sorry.  Maybe I am old.

But I could not escape the facebook and news media attacks on Miley Cyrus for her performance.  I’m not going to judge the performance because clearly I don’t understand criteria for good music performance.  But all I see in reviews of this performance is a massive amount of Slut Shaming.


I was curious. So I watched it.  Yeah, it was lewd and hypersexualized.  But how much more lewd than anything else on MTV? or in the pop media in general?  Is this really so shocking?  Some comically phallic gestures made by a 20 year old?  A 20 year old who is clearly being ridiculous for the sake of being ridiculous?  Really?  She’s a talentless whore  for acting silly on stage during two really bad songs and wearing hideous costumes?  All of which was most likely, in reality, planned and put together by someone else?


I’m fairly certain that every 15-25 makes an ass of themselves through use of obscene gestures, thinking that they’re being super cool and risque.  Is this really a sign, as unfortunately my girl Mika unfortunately suggests ( around 1:17.  Lay off the Freudian lit.), that she is mentally ill and has body image problems?  Or is she simply a 20 year old, making an ass out of herself while getting a massive public reaction that no one could escape?


People seem to do this to female stars.  They react to normal parts of growing out of adolescence and early adulthood with slut shaming and blaming. Tearing young women apart for their performances and public persona.  And again, this is really all created by other people, publicists, managers and such who want to make money off the image.  So then these women get torn to shreds for doing their job, entertaining, and of course it tears apart their sense of identity and sense of self.  Of course they then suffer depression and anxiety and break downs.  Why is this such a mystery to people?  They are not train wrecks until the public and the publicists create the train wreck.

What is interesting, as I read more about this performance is that the lewdness is blamed specifically on Cyrus.  With complete ignoring of Robin Thicke’s most disgusting, rapey song “Blurred Lines.”


*Side note* Dear Robin Thicke or whoever wrote this song:  The “blurred” line you’re looking for is called Consent.  And it’s not hard to see if you’re doing it right.   Stop making a joke of rape and being mad that rape is illegal and you are expected to respect people.  People includes women.  Sorry to disappoint.

Okay, back to the point.  I have not read anything that holds Thicke responsible for any of the offensiveness of the performance.  In fact, I read one account that accused Cyrus of “molesting” him.  Really?  Again, I hear the familiar call of Slut Shaming.  I have no theories for this!  Other than that men are expected and accepted to be lewd and phallic and slutty, and women are shamed.  That’s the best I got.  People are so shocked and angry at Cyrus for this:


I don’t understand.

So, let me get this straight.  It is okay for Robin Thicke to have nude women dancing around him and degrade them for a solid like 4 minutes or however long the video is, but when Miley does it as the star of the show its whoreish?  Okay, I just had to be sure on this one.

I’m also really confused about why people keep looking to her father.  Something about she is a disappointment or he needs to “keep her in line” or something?

Poor Miley.  She clearly has acquired a mental illness.  Not being a stupid 20 year old.  Freud's Ghost is clearly in on this.

Poor Miley. She clearly has acquired a mental illness. Not being a stupid 20 year old. Freud’s Ghost is clearly in on this.

If you really want to be offended, and like legitimately be offended by something, go watch some videos of The Plasmatics.


Wendy O’Williams was such a BAMF

Otherwise, I’m going to grab Badmotorfinger and pretend it’s still 1992.

In addition to sharply dressed Brits & Irishmen, I also have a huge weakness for poorly dressed grunge rockers.

Do you remember when music was music?


Can has Internet! And a hurt pup :(

Yesterday I got internet!

Unfortunately, the night before my little beag was attacked.  Remember this precious guy?


Also pictured here:

zomg!  I love playing in the snow!

zomg! I love playing in the snow!

In what was probably the most terrifying moment of my life, my favorite little guy in the entire world got attacked by a dog the size of a horse, who is “just a big teddy bear!”  (Apologies. I’ve been working really hard to be civil with the other dog’s owners and they have been very sweet and supportive, going to the vet with us and giving us all the info on their dog’s immunizations and such.  But that has forced me to censor my absolute rage at the incident.  So I have to vent it somewhere).  Boyfriend and I were at the vet until 3am.  Then I stayed up to watch the pup detox from the sedative and make sure he was generally okay.  So I was pretty much awake for 48 hours observing my dog and cleaning dog stitches and desperately trying to get him to eat so he could take his medicines.

I learned something about myself:  I am not a caretaker.  I think I ground my teeth down to a fine powder trying to make sure he was okay and that I didn’t ruin my dog because I wanted to walk him before I took a shower.  I knew, cognitively, that he was okay, especially after like 13 info-seeking phone calls to the emergency vet, “Is it normal to not eat?” “He’s shaking; why is he shaking?” “He didn’t poop today!  He loves pooping! Why isn’t he pooping?”

I also learned, that people in general do not know how to comfort atheists.  Not that I’m going to be mad at people when they say they’ll pray for my dog or we’ll be in their prayers.  It’s a sweet sentiment that means something to them, so I accept that.  But when people know you are an atheist (those who are religious), I can pretty much see the awkwardness when they are trying to figure out what to say to comfort me.  It’s very simple really.  “That sucks.  I’m sorry.”  If you want to give more than that, you can go with this “It will be okay.  You can handle this.”  I feel like this could be it’s whole own post, so I’m going to stop here.

Anyway, this has been rambling enough.  And my dog is finally wanting to cuddle with me again.  So I’m going to put together a nice stream of Netflix documentaries and feed some happy vibes (and a cocktail of peanut butter and puppy painkillers) to my monster.

No worries.  I’m confident that he’ll be back to being as triumphant and sassy as a Kanye West/Martin Freeman baby in no time!

And then you will get many more gems of posts including ones about over-confident assholes, Edward Snowden, and Slutwalk, and SlutShaming at the VMAs!

Until THEN!  Here’s my most adorable little  roygle poigle again!  (He’s a pointer/beagle mix, poigle.  get it? like Reagle Beagle?  You people suck)

The cape gives me super-healing powers! (Actually this is an old photo.  I would never dress up a wounded dog.  That's just mean.)

The cape gives me super-healing powers!
(Actually this is an old photo. I would never dress up a wounded dog. That’s just mean.)

Internet Woes–Warning: This post has an offensive number of Cillian gifs–because I need to entertain myself somehow.

If one more person tells me I should be enjoying life without internet I’m going to cut them.  Detroit style.


Please don't judge me, friend.

Cumby! What are you doing here? This post isn’t for you!

Thanks to the lovely people of AT&T and Comcast/XFinity, I have been without internet for 3 weeks.


I have the occasional Starbucks trip.  But when your post-move budget allows for nightly meals of pasta with “butter” and carrot sticks, Starbucks is a rare treat.

So three weeks.  Three weeks and I have no internet, no Netflix, no news.  Yes, I have my phone.  But even that is extremely limited in what I can do.  I am also not working right now.  So I’m at home.  All day.  Broke.  Internetless.  I’m ready to go insane.

I warned you.

I warned you.

Honestly.  I can’t follow news.  I have limited ability to follow up on emails.  I can’t begin copy editing my diss or begin dissemination of findings to my sites.  My facebooking is limited.  I can’t amuse myself with gifs and memes.  I can’t learn weird random things.  I can’t find new recipes.  I can’t fantasy shop.

Most of these things sound frivolous.  But think about all the stupid things you do online that you get immense enjoyment and escapism from.  And then remove any of that escapism and enjoyment.


But what is the most infuriating about this is that when I complain to people, they tell me I should “enjoy it!”  You know, “get out of the house,”  “go outside,” “read a book,”  “enjoy the city,” and the like.


I am a recluse.  I like being a recluse.  I generally like spending days in the house at a time talking only to friends and family on facebook.  Having lively discussions with intense use of gifs and kitty stickers with my best friend in another state is my favorite way to spend a Saturday.  I am in a committed relationship with online documentaries.  I read nearly every article on io9, BBC Future, and the Mind & Brain section of Science Daily.  Buzzfeed is like water to me.  I google just about every question that pops into my mind because I hate leaving even rhetorical questions unanswered.  I was actively following Snowden and the NSA case (until I went over to Julian Assange’s statement on Bradley Manning from the Wikileaks website and my computer blue screened and strange things stated happening…but that’s another story…).  I have no idea what’s going on in Egypt.  And I’m sure I’ve missed some amazing Shepard Smith moments!  I am a fucking Millennial.  Internet is all I know and I like that!


Aside from my unwavering adoration for the internet, I would like to ask these people what they think I should do all these weeks without internet?  I keep hearing “Read a book!”  Bitch.  Something Wicked This Way Comes, 137, Self-Reference Engine, The Information, A People’s History of American Empire, The Greatest Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (nearly the entire fucking collection), The Trial, and Born to Rebel have all been read in the past two months.  Don’t pull this shit on me.


So then I get “Go outside!” and usually something ridiculous like “go Kayaking!”  My exact response to this one: “I don’t like interacting with nature” not that closely.  I will hike and run and appreciate it.  But fuck interaction.  Have fun with your hobbies and interests.  Those are not mine.  I have exactly zero interest in things such as camping and canoeing.  Last time I tried I ended up tipping over in a gross river.  Why would I do that to myself again?  Oh, and did I mention that I live in Chicago?  Where the summer weather is either 90 degrees with 80% humidity or a week of constant rain?  Did I also mention that I’m pale as fuck and have irrational fears of sunburn, skin cancer, and what I have called “old lady tits” (you know those old ladies who never wore sun block in their youth and by the time their 40 their cleave is constantly the color of cheap leather and wrinkly and covered in unhealthy looking moles?)?  Did I mention that?  Oh, I also hate bugs and the smell of children in the summer (you know the smell, dirt, cheap sunblock, and pb&j?).  So, no thank you.  You have all the fun with that.  To each their own.  I’m sure my hobbies would bore you as well.


“Enjoy the city!”—You can’t do this on less than $60/day.  Fact.

So here I sit.  Typing this on Word because, no matter how hard boyfriend and I try, Comcast hates us.  And I can’t go to Starbucks anyway because it is raining, so I can’t walk, and I don’t have money to put gas in the car, so I can’t drive.  Now I’m gonna watch Breakfast on Pluto and remind myself that Cillian is a prettier girl than I could ever be.


I Don’t Even Care PopSci. Martian Astronaut Barbie is Fucking Awesome!

Dear Popular Science:

re:  This article:

Why you gotta be like that?


**PreWarning:  this post may make little sense as it was spontaneously written while internet binging at a  Starbucks because apparently it takes two weeks to flip my internet from my old apartment to my new place, 2 miles away.***


I am a space nerd.  And a feminist.  So imagine my glee when I saw that Barbie is going to Mars!  I mean that like, in all honesty.  I was never a Barbie kid (except when they were playing Jerry Springer because my best friend had like 1000 Barbies and 1 Ken, and it was the 90s, so, you know).  But really!  Barbie has been just about everything and I think that’s cool.  I’ll set aside beauty politics and s, hit, part of the reason I don’t really like dolls anyway.  But she been everything from Scientist to President to School Teacher with nothing really off limits, and that’s fucking cool.

barbie-careerspres barbie

So now she’s a Mars Astronaut!  Whaaatt!  I’m buying her.  I don’t care.  Fuck you guys.  Martian Astronaut Barbie is a go!  She will sit next to my Martian Manhunter and Mars Attacks Martian Commander.  Because that’s fucking cool.

Yes, I think she would fit nicely here.

Yes, I think she would fit nicely here.

I found out about this through Popular Science.  Scrolling through my news app on my phone, (because AT&T sucks and takes 12 days to transfer your internet after you move!) I came across the article.  I got all excited.  Then I made the mistake of reading the article.  I have no delusions that sexism still reigns supreme in the world of science and science fiction, although we are tearing it apart piece by piece.  But this was seriously the most condescending thing ever written.  Everything is about make-up, fashion, being a woman in space.  To be honest, I was waiting for them to mention what she should do when she gets her period.  Why?  Why?  Of all the things you could say and cover in this article, you are only going to talk about Martian skin care routines?  And worse, you talk about it like girls are fucking idiots and that is all they care about.  The article was insulting.  You really disappointed me on this one PopSci.

This was a wasted opportunity to get more young girls interested in science.   Talk about getting your daughter (or son, but for some reason boys with dolls is still taboo) this doll and pretending to be an astronaut, going on dangerous and exciting space missions!  Talk about what she might investigate and discover while on Mars!  Maybe, in some kid’s imagination Barbie finds flowing water or lost civilizations on the Red Planet!  Rather than worrying about the SPF of her moisturizer.  This, my friends, is how we ingrain sexism into children and adults alike, by writing shit like this and thinking it is normal and okay.  By mocking this toy in the way that they did, consumers will now scoff at it.  Their article reinforces negative stereotypes about women, the very same stereotypes that feed inequalityBarbie_2.

I am certain that people are like “Dude, it’s Barbie.  It’s what Barbie does, hair and makeup. Chill the fuck out.”  And I know that it’s Barbie.  But I think girls are capable of playing with more than hair and makeup and babysitting and taking care of babies if you let them.  I hate girl toys because they so often only reinforce these few things.  Here we have MARS EXPLORER BARBIE!  She needs nothing to do with those stereotypes, yet you force them on her.  You try to remove stereotypes from a toy and they are forced onto the toy anyway.  And yes, I get the article was supposed to be cute and funny.  But, as a nerd girl who played with army men and built Lego space stations, it’s annoying and exhausting.

This gif is dedicated to Boyfriend.  The #1 supporter of my rants.

This gif is dedicated to Boyfriend. The #1 supporter of my rants.