DARHLINKS!
I spruced up my piece on Bama, bling, and boomers, and now it's on HuffPo. You should click it.
Maybe one day I can be a big star like Tino here:
DARHLINKS!
I spruced up my piece on Bama, bling, and boomers, and now it's on HuffPo. You should click it.
Maybe one day I can be a big star like Tino here:
Lately I’ve been wondering what an Obama White House might mean for the future of bling. For the fate of heavy gold, medallions, below-the-butt denim, the whole hip-hop gangsta fashion habit. What if January 20, 2009 turned out to be.. a watershed fashion moment for teenaged boys?
Ugh. “Gangsta?” This is like when my pudgy sweat-slathered boss says desperately ironic things like “That’s how I roll!”
She goes on to reference: Ed Sullivan. The Beatles. And a winsome 67 year old corrections officer. This is EXACTLY why Assisted Living facilities should NOT have internet access.
Moving on. Let me holla at this ho: DO NOT confuse bling with jeans that sag from gats, crack pipes, and all the dreadful woes of a Baltimore housing project.
1. Bling is boss. Its not just a red-carpet fashion statement. It’s a deeper set of values: Playing hard, looking good and lapping up the finest. The Bentley, the four finger ring, chilled the Dom Perignon, and the hot jacuzzi. Its about hittin switches in a drop top.
2. Whether its based in crass materialism or in giant meta quotation marks, bling is about being gaudy, sassy, and bold. Right or wrong bling is empowering. Its irreverent, audacious and HONEST. Damon Dash Emporer of Bling says: “I’ve always been addicted to money. I like to have diamonds, jewelery; I like my private jets, my cooks, the fact I stay in a presidential [suite] wherever I go.” Totes. I say, why the fuck not? Brush yo shoulders off and hop on that jet if you got it.
3. Speaking of which, let us not forget Bama’s dog whistle when he brushed his shoulders off at a rally. It was gloriously authentic moment. A moment that we gleefully understood that the confused the boomers missed. Like the fist bump, like Bama saying “Ya, I did a little blow", its all about the open self-revelatory style. The way Dash unabashedly declares his love for them big bodied Benzes to Bama snorting yeah-yo: its open, its out there, unapologetically. This is something neither focus grouped Clinton or the Liver Spotted McCain could do.
Bling is here to stay(especially now that The Game announced that he will get a portrait of Obama on his back). When Bama becomes president the flossin, the rims, and the bling will not go away . Hopefully, the craggy Boomers who write this moth-eaten drivel will.
I'm highlighting the "Great War Of 2008 For The Heart And Soul Of The Internet" for a couple of reasons. In the before time, the long long-ago, I refreshed Gawker every 30 seconds at my desk. The crew that worked there during 05'-'06 made me want to blog. Gawker was inspiring to a degree, it was proof that talent -at times- could trump dues-paying in this kooky, mixed up internet world. Also, whatever it is that made the cool kids at your school posses that magic and delicious power to make themselves seem twice their natural size, the former Gawker kids have it too.
This goes back quite a while, but let's just try contextualize the recent flurry of snipes:
keithgessensucks.tumblr.com
- UPDATE: next time you claim to have registered a free website for yourself in order to prevent others from registering it, do yourself the favor of following through cause we now own keithgessensucks.tumblr.com
I have to admit that I'm pretty drawn to this whole saga not just because I'm a giddy admirer of Sicha's and Balk's but because they're right. Gessen clings to the crusty ethos of the baby boomer generation, musing over the same stale questions that our parents have long stopped arguing about. It's a mindset that has crippled print and had totally misjudged the revolutionizing power of the internet. Balk and Sicha are still bomb throwers. Whether their targets are justified or not, they are scrappy and without pretension: an attitude which has far more vitality and value in this day and age. Ultimately though, what Gessen is really guilty of is challenging the wrong guys on their turf. Or in Choire's words is bringing a kitty cat to a bitch fight.
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Let's not even acknowledge that I haven't blogged since the Carter administration. Moving on.
I.Have you guys read Emily Gould's NYT Mag piece about ejaculating personal psycho-dramas all over the interwebs?
It was really good. I suggest all female bloggers who have pounded out sad little diatribes about heart ache with their
dampened, dainty fingers read it. Also if you've ever had a crush on a scruffy, eloquent jewish boy with a penchant for angry backlashes (ahem) you'll enjoy it too.
II. Do you get offended when close friends don't read your blog? And do you get embarrassed yet rightly indignant when you say things aloud like "obviously, you don't read my blog, i posted about my late term abortion last week, so I don't even need need to re-tell you this story. Google it." My answers are yes and yes. People should read what I write, if you
the balls to give me shit for not returning your phone call about your fucking GRE scores you can damn well read about my thoughts on Obama and menstruation. Jeez-us.
III. There's a stigma attached to blogging still, but its different than it used tobe right? It was originally rooted in theidea that blogging was for dorks. Fat, wiccan/virgin dudes who would blog in between creeping out young girls at the mall and their live action roll playing tournaments. Now that every health insurer, bank, and the Department of Defense has a blog, doesn't it feel somewhat ordinary to say that you 'blog?' Is twittering hipper than blogging? In a space as vast as the internet is there such a thing as market saturation?
IV. Do you miss me? I'm nothing without you. I swear I'll change. Give me one more chance.
Jesus christ maybe i just need a fucking live journal.
*WARNING. SCROLL WITH CAUTION SOME IMAGES ARE NSFW*
Way to jump on a trend 5 years after it started NY Times: photographed celebs throw on a T-shirt, appear fresh faced with a look of pognaincy and smug self-satisfaction, urging you to buy a t-shirt to support whatever useless non-profit they donated to.
I have no tolerance or respect for millionaries who throw on a T-shirt and call it activism. Throwing on a T-shirt? I do that shit everyday. Sometimes I even put on a pair of pants. Every couple of days I brush my teeth. I go out there and I do my job which is to organize non union workers, fight the boss, lose sleep, eat shit and then I'm supposed to have Christy Turlington shame me into a buying a pink rubber bracelet?
Ugh you can your donate your mouth to my nuts, Christy (why don't have nuts? that would make that joke so much better!) Ya'll have seen hundreds of the ads I'm talking about. But really none compare to one particular AIDS campaign that made we want to have unprotected sex with multiple partners, roll around in used needles, and blow some Balitmore vagrants rather than donate to their campaign. I present it to thee:
Now I would like to show you some good ads. Creative and terrifying. They deliver their message clearly with the right balance of cheekiness AND gravity.
Darlings! I've been work-traveling and new-blogging and work-quiting and getting addicted to sleeping pills (who else is on the ambien train to bliss? Choo choo). Needless to say: I'm embarrassed that I haven't updated is like 8 -days. 8 days is the blog equivalent of child neglect and abuse. I'll be back up and running on monday. In the meantime.Enjoy this hiptard:
I WAS STUCK IN AN AIRPORT DURING THE PROJECT RUNWAY FINALE. I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHO WON. BRAVO IS NOT REPLAYING THE FINALE FOR SOME REASON!!! SOME ONE HALP!! IS THIS BITCH ONLINE????
SHOCKING NEWS: WOMEN (AND WITTY VERBOSE TEENS NAMED AFTER ALASKAN CITIES) WHO ARE PREGGERS CAN FIND OUT THE SEX OF THEIR BABEH BY BUYING A KIT.
Hooray! Right? Now you can decide whether to name your baby Apple or Brooklyn months before you even show your baby bump. Now as more and more consumers have been getting their swollen hands on gender detecttin kits there’s has been greater media scrunity about the sex-selective abortions in Tha Third World.
As we’ve known for a while those of us with vaginas have less labor market value in developing countries.
So what if the tests tells you’re going to squeeze out a boy and lo and behold your infant has a cooter betwixt her legs? What if you live the lush and litigious First World? Well, you sue the shit out of some one.
According to the LA times:”More than 100 women have filed a lawsuit against Acu-Gen and its owner, Chang-ning Wang, that is pending in federal court. At least one customer has been questioned by the FBI.” Wang (heh) has repeatedly declined to discuss the scientific validity of the test. So the suing is just none-sense, if you carry the kid in your body for 9 months and pop it out the last thing that should be on your mind is refund. Buyer beware and all that shit. The real question at hand, is whether its cool, in first world country, abort a baby based on sex. The question has been less taboo in places like China and India where the amount of males in a household and can sink or save a family.
And here in the US the gender selection taboo is slowly being broken.
But there is a difference here. In a country such as ours, where the gender ratio in the household isn’t as closely linked to financial stability, it comes down to a question of want.
Whether or not you want a boy or a girl or not? Of course this brings up all sorts of thorny nuanced issues, but ultimately I believe that if you don’t want the kid for whatever reason, then don’t have it. Whether its for financial or emotional reasons or the fact that you had your cold heart set on naming your new son Preston, you don’t want it, don’t have it. Its your vag, live how you please.
But what do you think?
comment or check out this nifty poll!
Hi friend, ex-lover, family member, mentor, bitter rival:
Its called:
Hey, Be Us!
www.heybeus.com
It's a scrappy, foul-mouthed, feminine take on politics, culture, fashion, and DC.
The blog is me and an other fantastic writer --we always want contributers-- named Tess.
We are pithy. We are smart. We are pretty. We want you to read us.
I will not be this neglecting blog. This blog is like my first child --the one that survived the abortion.
OPEN COMMENTING!! ROCK IT!!!! IT DOESN'T SUCK! GO now!!
Like some mighty Norse deity, this election hath giveth and it hath taketh away.
This election smitted (smoted? past tense: to smite) the cult, kitsch, ironic status of Chuck Norris, who turned out to be a douchebag with a gun and an irrational fear of Persian Princes.
And the election breathed new life into an aging internet meme: LOLcats. Now the time has come to mix hilarious of pictures cats and give them earnest pro-Obama sayings.And it was good.
ZOMG!!1 I luv this so much. I'm Hai on Hope!
