I’m Fresh Out Of Outrage, Hollywood Reporter, Try Again
What did you get mad about today? How many times have you sputtered “WHAT IS THIS SHIT?!??!!?!???” into a waiting Gchat or typed an all-caps Facebook status that’s actually a subtweet at your little sister’s best friend? How many angry tweets have you sent? How many times have you puffed up your chest, opened your mouth and bloviated endlessly about something that makes you so mad that you see red? How much outrage do you have in your body, right now? Aren’t you tired? Doesn’t your head hurt? Don’t you want to take a break?
Here’s an example of something, surely deserving of a reaction. Because Friday is the day where people drop questionable takes on the internet and scamper off to happy hour, The Hollywood Reporter released a trend piece about the kind of accessories Hollywood moguls like to hang with. “Just as tastes in fashion, food, and music evolve, so do tastes in arm candy, girlfriends and trophy wives,” writes Merle Ginsberg, former “RuPaul’s Drag Race” judge and general rabble-rouser, in a carefully executed long-con of a troll, just waiting for someone to alight upon it and take her bait.
Ginsberg notes that Hollywood execs and cigar chomping producers have traded out their shiksas, shopgirls and assorted Asians for a new flavor of female companion — the yoga teacher. Never mind that yoga is actually Asian, too, if we’re being picky. That’s actually the least offensive thing about the entire thing. Outrage, as previously stated on this website, is best saved for things that actually deserve it this week, so my feelings about this are less mouth-foaming, pitchfork-wielding anger, and more of a rueful head shake, and a quiet closing of the tab. This is something that would normally get my blood up. It hits all the right notes: misogyny, women as chattel, vague racism against Asian women. These are all subjects I’ve taken on, subjects that I care about deeply. But, today I can’t get it up. The outrage, usually churning just below the surface, ready to exit at any moment, is eerily still.
I understand how patently ridiculous it is that a publication let someone write words about women as a “trend”, grouping shiksas or shop girls or Asian women into a monolithic entity to be acquired and displayed for status. It is shitty! This is not how you treat people. As a reader, you can read the words that someone else was paid to write, froth at the mouth for eternity and bang a caps-locked laden status on Facebook, and crack your knuckles, waiting for the pings of agreement or dissent to flow in. You can engage in white-hot debates, letting the waves of your self-righteousness wash over you as you eviscerate that girl you sat next to in high school biology. Fighting about things that were published in part to be fought over feels good, but it’s also pointless. People’s opinions don’t change. The sick burn you just delivered to your cousin that you see only at Thanksgiving would taste just as good had you thought it to yourself instead of saying it out loud. Save your energy for things that matter.
Use your outrage to actually engender change. Let your rage about whatever your passion is get you off the couch, away from the computer and towards a method that actually does some good. Your righteous indignation is hot air. Let it move you towards something worthwhile.
Wanna yell at me about something? Do it at [email protected].
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