Last week, we told about about that alleged near-death-by-butt-chugging incident of a Pi Kappa Alpha brother at the University of Tennessee. Yesterday, Alexander P. Buttchugger, I mean Broughton, came forward to deny all charges that he took Franzia (or anything) up his ass and that the details of his story were fabricated. In a press conference led by his fraternity lawyer, Daniel “Foghorn Leghorn” McGhee (you can watch it above), Broughton denies even knowing what butt chugging is, so how could he have done it? But way, way, more importantly, they want you to know that Broughton is not GAY.
This is the most awful press conference I’ve ever seen for a number of reasons. I’ll get to my many gripes in a moment. But first, let me ask you this: If this were simply a near-death binge drinking incident, would this kid be holding a press conference? Keep reading »
My name is Amelia. I am a feminist. I also have a Pinterest account. If a recent lengthy piece on Buzzfeed (wait, Buzzfeed does “lengthy”?) is to be believed, these two things are antithetical. According to Amy Odell, the editor over at Buzzfeed’s lifestyle vertical, Shift, Pinterest is “killing feminism.” So, as a feminist who uses Pinterest, I’m, like, killing some part of myself, I guess?
Odell’s thesis is based on the fact that Pinterest’s 23 million users are overwhelmingly female (60 percent) and that they use it to curate “retrograde, materialistic content,” like “recipes, home decor, and fitness and fashion tips,” which Odell claims are staples of women’s magazines that the Internet was “supposed to help overcome.” Odell also derides the fact that Pinterest users don’t go there to read articles, which I find kind of hilarious coming from someone employed by a website that is dominated by photos and funny captions, her lengthy screed notwithstanding. Odell says websites like Jezebel, Feministing, and The Hairpin are examples of places on the internet where women “can find smarter, meatier reads just for them,” but is clearly disappointed (and even surprised) that their existence hasn’t done away with the female desire to “scrapbook every imaginable physical aspect of their dream lives.”
Call me crazy, but I don’t see what the fucking problem is. Keep reading »
I have something to say to my lady blogger friends who write about domestic violence. Please tread more carefully with your words, and please don’t be so sure you know what you’re talking about. Unless you a) have been in an abusive relationship or b) are a professional who is trained to treat people in abusive relationships, you could be doing more harm than good.
The most recent debate that had my hair standing on end was the conversation that erupted around Dr. Drew Pinsky’s comments on Lance Bass’ new SiriusXM radio show. Keep reading »
I have vilified Lady Gaga in the past (to much condemnation, given her rabid fanbase): the contrived, weird-for-attention shtick really wears on me, particularly considering it comes hand-in-hand with what basically amounts to catchy, radio-friendly pop music with a pseudo-controversial religious message here and there. I can live with her message of peace, love, and acceptance, but that isn’t enough to make a fan out of me. Here’s what is: in defense of her recent 25-pound weight gain and the ensuing media scrutiny, Gaga gets naked, or at least stripped to her skivvies, to set the “Body Revolution” in motion. Keep reading »
Let me tell you a story about “bi invisibility.” A few years ago, at my first full-time job – which, I should clarify, was at an LGBT nonprofit organization – I was chatting with a gay male co-worker about a conversation he had with an acquaintance of ours. Apparently I had come up in their conversation, and he had referred to me as “straight.” As in “heterosexual.” I don’t know where the rest of the story was going, because I stopped my colleague right there.
“Actually,” I interjected, “I’m not straight.”
He seemed genuinely baffled. “You’re not?”
“Well … no. I can see why you thought I was, but I’m not. I’m bisexual.”
His eyes widened and he smiled. It was like a light bulb had gone off in his head and everything suddenly made sense. Meanwhile, I walked back to my cubicle, shocked that, at an LGBT organization, anyone would assume that anyone else was straight. It surprised me that, in a space where identity politics and queer issues were discussed regularly, being in a relationship with a man would automatically signify me as a hetero. I suddenly realized that my identity as a bi woman would always be invisible. I would always be invisible. That is, unless I found a way to combat that invisibility. Keep reading »
There are many in Western society that seem to band together anytime the subject of sex-selective abortion in foreign countries comes up. It’s a tricky topic, especially for those of us who favor unfettered abortion access. Outrage and incomprehension over aborting female fetuses in favor of males is usually the default response, with many claiming the practice is misogynistic, and rightfully pointing out the negative impact it has on many countries, specifically in Asia.
But despite our alarm and discomfort surrounding sex-selective abortion, many in Western society have no issue doing all they can to conceive a specific sex. And while pregnancy screenings to rule out female fetuses abound outside the U.S., there has recently been a surge in the number of parents looking to do exactly the opposite within this country: going to great — and expensive — lengths to ensure that their newborn is a girl. Keep reading »
My relationship with Anthropologie is love-hate. I love the company’s handpicked, one-of-a-kind eclectic look. I hate the fact that my loving this stuff only underscores the fact that I am in no way unique and that I have been corporate-brainwashed just like the rest of you ladies who just can’t get enough pencil skirts, ruffled tops and bird motifs. Of course I can’t afford to shop there until something goes on sale — at which point all its “whimsical charm” has worn off and the item somehow returns to looking like the junk it was modeled after.
After my latest visit, however, I think my love-hate has officially turned to hate-hate when I left even more offended than the time I saw an Ikea sticker on an item involved in a window display (proving that even Anthropologie is not stupid enough to shop at Anthropologie). There, next to the register, was a sign announcing that the retailer is currently hiring interns. Keep reading »
The actor Rupert Everett, who is gay, believes children should have a “mother and a father.”
My father, who is also gay, shared the same beliefs. So did my gay mother. So did my gay father-in-law. So, in fact, did the Christopher Plummer character in “Beginners.”
But can it be true that there’s “[nothing] worse than being brought up by two gay dads,” as Rupert said?
Ask my husband, whose father and stepfather fully participated in raising him. Ask my children, who have three of four openly gay grandparents. Keep reading »
When my life overwhelms me – which, as an introverted entrepreneur and mother, is often – I try to escape to the one place that I know no one will speak to me, The Korean Day Spa. I spend the entire day there, soaking, steaming, sweating, and watching the glorious variety of women move through this sacred space as the holy bodies that they are. Everyone is naked, as mandated by the spa itself. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, styles, and when surrounded by them I truly feel as if I am part of something, some magic thing that needs no words or creed. The mere fact of our nipples and wrinkles and bulges, and the fact that we all look ridiculously bad in the little shower caps the spa makes us wear, is enough to refill my soul. If I were the platitude sort, some part of me would probably start singing, “I am woman, hear me roar,” but the rest of me would be all like “shut up, bitch,” and I would return to the silence that I so crave. Keep reading »
I was horrified to read this week that a 73-year-old woman was raped in broad daylight in Central Park.
Read that again, let it sink in: a 73-year-old woman was raped in broad daylight in Central Park.
According to news reports, the woman goes to Central Park every day and sits on a bench, birdwatching. Last week she witnessed a man in the bushes masturbating, so she took his picture — presumably to show to police. He came up to her after being photographed and demanded she hand over the film, but she refused.
Then Tuesday around noon, she was back in the park and the same man confronted her, asked “You remember me?” and then savagely beat and raped her, vaginally and rectally. He ran off with her bag, which contained her camera, and tried to steal her watch, too. The elderly victim was discovered lying in the ground by a fellow birdwatcher, who called 911. (He was arrested yesterday.) Keep reading »