i’ve been trying to decide why “this is the kind of content i like to see!” is so consistently hilarious to me. i’m thinking it might be something about the appropriated corporate language? and how we’re using it to fuel tumblr-patented sad meme entropy? you know, the recentish shift in media from “journalism” (which has a vague veneer of intellectual respectability - think 60 minutes, the ny times, etc.) to “content,” which is a lot more like “stuff that takes up space.” buzzfeed. upworthy. and, technically, memes.
when a tumblr user says this in response to…i dunno, an picture of an iguana version of their favorite character, or whatever, it’s a comment on specificity, in a lot of cases. i know i use it when i find something that seems very carefully tailored to my interests. you know, at the center of a venn diagram with three or four seemingly-disparate circles. i am claiming somethign a success for my own personal focus group of one. i am voicing my approval for the corporate overlords that watch us, asking for them to generate more images of dogs wearing sunglasses or the rock with various foodstuffs.
it feels like a game. like we’re trying to confuse the dennyses of the world. what are the kids into now? the skeleton war? sonic? bath bombs? everything is content in 2015: macaroni and cheese is content. trees are content. we ourselves are content. baffling-ass content
my name is BABY and you lean out of your car and spit at my feet it lands in a puddle in front of me and i am thirteen and in a suburban neighborhood on the way home from school and i gag and run with my backpack banging like the echo of your words against my back like you are chasing me all the way home
my name is SWEETIE and i am fifteen in the city with my friends for the first time and we get a little lost and you follow us for a full block you name my friends HONEY and DARLING and WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU TALK TO ME
my name is NICE ASS and it’s two in the afternoon and i still feel my heart slam against my ribs because i am under a hundred and fifty pounds and i have weak lungs and weaker fists and while you saunter down the steps, swinging the beer bottle in your fist, my father who is walking behind me shouts, “she’s seventeen, you dipshit” and maybe i’m near my family but i don’t feel safe until we’re home again
my name is JAILBAIT and my friend is laughing and we just graduated high school and we feel like we are on the brink of something beautiful and terrifying and she is in heels and about to throw up and you name her DRUNK ENOUGH and i have to physically drag you off and when we go home she cries for four hours because a night that should have been just teenage fun almost resulted in the end of her trust of humans
my name is LOOK AT THOSE TITS and we are on a college campus and the boy i am with holds onto my waist just a little tighter while you drive up next to me. you name him THUG and throw a bottle at his forehead. i can’t stop shaking until long after it’s over. he says “it happens,” and i say, “it shouldn’t.”
my name is DAMN GIRL and we are walking down the street. there are ten of you and two of us and you snap a picture when you think we’re not looking. you tell us to either come inside or you’ll fuck us on the street. you all laugh like this is funny. this is compliment. this is just something boys do to get ladies.
my name is LITTLE LADY, my name is FINE MISS, my name is FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FRIENDS, my name is LOOK ME IN THE FACE, my name is STOP FROWNING, my name is SMILE, my name is WHY DID YOU EVEN GLANCE AT HIM YOU WERE ASKING FOR IT, my name is THIS IS A COMPLIMENT so i looked it up according to Oxford that’s “a polite expression of praise or admiration” i think you’ve got the definitions mixed up
my name is PRETTY THING, my name takes nice words and make them into bullet wounds my name is NICE BODY and no girl i know has dated a man who catcalled her, my name is GREAT RACK and it turns out that if you shout things at a stranger, they sound like knives more than flowers, my name is WOMEN LIKE YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR PLACE and every single “nice” thing you say to a woman is something you’d never utter to another man because you know that it’s derogatory, my name is PRINCESS and A REASON TO GET PUT IN PRISON and if another man spoke to your mother sister girlfriend like that, you’d kill him
my name is SEXY and every time i hear someone raising their voice i am thirteen again and i don’t know who you are and i’m running home with a weight on my shoulders and your words like a slap to my spine and your laughter like a hanging, i am scared and alone and suddenly so small,
and compliments are supposed to make me feel good not afraid for my life, compliments are a way of saying “i care and i appreciate you and i thought you should know it,” and if you really meant it as a compliment, you’d care about how i would take it - but you don’t mean it like that, you mean it to show off, you mean it to make us object, you mean it to shove our names into your back pocket so you can tell your friends “i saw the HOTTEST LITTLE THING yesterday” and they can groan about how we just walked away because you don’t see us go home with keys in our fists and all the lights on and we keep 911 dialed just in case and we triple-check our locks and we don’t fall asleep at all because your compliment knocked us over and took who we are
if we are all saying “it doesn’t sound like a compliment, it sounds like a threat,” if you really wanted to make us feel good - wouldn’t you stop doing it?
I had a client who
needed a website for her massage services. She said the name, Totally U,
but the printed brochures and bus bench ads all said Totality U.
I thought she
somehow didn’t realize the mistake
Client: No, I
know. There’s another company in town called Totally U, so I couldn’t use that
name.
I still don’t know
how she explains it to customers.
Imagine that your partner has been hitting you. Yelling at you. You’ve been married for a few years, you’re both in your 30s, you have a little daughter, and everything you do seems to be wrong. You’ve been made fun of, mocked and belittled by your partner.
But you need them, because you can’t take another failed relationship. You can’t be alone again, and they’ve got you convinced that all the beatings and scratches and scrapes are your fault.
You tell your friends and they laugh. No matter how many bruises or cuts you show them, it’s still your fault, so you hide them. You feel trapped, but you don’t feel like you can escape. You’re convinced that you’re just locking yourself in.
And you see online one day an article. Someone else went through what you have. They got the cuts, the bruises, the scratches. You see that here is hope and freedom from these beatings. The physical and emotional pain can go away, there is someone there to help!
So you write down a list of 10 abuse victim hotlines, for people being abused. And you call them one by one.
If you were a man:
6 of those hotlines would refuse to help because of your gender.
3 of those hotlines would refer you to or give you a number to a hotline dealing with people that abuse and are looking to stop.
1 of those hotlines would help.
Out of those 10, 2 of those would also laugh at you or say you deserved it.
If you were a woman:
10 of those hotlines would help.
Abuse is very scary, but what seems scarier to you; being abused, reaching out and getting the help you need, or being abused, reaching out and getting laughed and turned away over 60% of the time because of who you are?
Only 8% of men who call abuse hotlines find them ‘very helpful’ and get the assistance they need.
All they could say is “this is trash” because this study was written and published by a woman with a PhD and is comprehensive and heavily sourced.
Just to add some quotes found in the study from men who tried to seek help:
• They laughed at me and told me I must have done something to deserve it if it happened at all.
• They asked how much I weighed and how much she weighed and then hung up on me…I was told by this agency that I was full of BS.
• They accused me of trying to hide my “abuse” of her by claiming to be a victim, and they said that I was nothing more than a wimp.
• They didn’t really listen to what I said. They assumed that all abusers are men and said that I must accept that I was the abuser. They ridiculed me for not leaving my wife, ignoring the issues about what I would need to do to protect my six children and care for them.
And maybe the saddest one: They just laughed and hung up the phone.
Man can be abused too , this is not trash
My father had to suffer hell for years , and he ended up in hopsital too because of my mother . So don’t you dare to say that a man can’t suffer from abuse because that’s bullshit. It happens , it can happen to everyone . And the fact that people are not willing to help is just sick
Someone: tell me your 3 favourite people in the world.
Me: sure bro... Chris Evans, Steve Rogers and Captain America
I am Silver Tongue, I am an artist. I have many characters and you can check out my art in the art tag. I occasionally practice witchcraft though I don't do anything too complicated. I am girl 2 and don't know what else to put here.
