Monday March 19, 2007

Perhaps I should've been more specific, Yale:  when I said "call me!" I meant "to tell me I've been accepted".  (omg, you totally rejected me because I wrote about not giving a damn about my GRE.  I'm going to go fake being ashamed now.)

Sunday is New York Times Day, which is always Style Section Vapidity Party Day for me.  Until, that is, I saw that this over-privileged twit made the cover of the Style Section.  I'll admit, a tiny part of me wants to give her a miniature high-five for not being in the Alice Walker Fanclub*, but god, lady, get over yourself. 
Oh no, I was thrust into a world of undefined identity!  And I can't live up to my parents!  And I find all my contrived rebellions hollow! 
(hello and welcome to adolescence, Rebecca.  now please sit down and stop yelling.)  Ooh, I think I'll capitalize on my famous last name- which I'm keeping, even though I AM NOTHING LIKE MY MOTHER DO YOU HEAR THAT MOM?- and write an asinine, critically-panned ego-driven puff piece on the true joy and fulfillment that only getting knocked up and devoting myself to continuing the line of self-centered bastards in my family can provide and the rest of the world is simply too career-driven to ever, ever understand.  Oh, and this proves that I'm not gay anymore, because as you know, the gays eat babies.

*  why do I hate on Alice Walker?  Oh, it might've been the interview she gave in "Warrior Marks", a documentary about genital mutilation that I saw during my Womyn's Studies and Herstory seminar, in which she speaks of a childhood bb gun accident.  I'd expect an elementary-school-age accident with a bb gun to be noteworthy if it involved, say, a purposeful shooting on the basis of race, or maybe if the person shooting you was Dick Cheney.  No, AW seems to seriously think that her brother accidentally peppered her with bb's, one of which lodged in/near her eye and left her blind on one side, because he had some deep-seated priomoridal fear of AW and her power to see and understand too much.  He meant to hit her in the eye, to blind her, because he feared her power and needed to keep a strong woman (age 8!) in check
And this to begin a film about being forcibly mutilated.
Truly, this is no exaggeration- this exceedingly moronic statement on her part was captured on tape.  So this is why I cannot ever respected Alice Walker- becaues if you're going to make a giant, overgeneralizing, self-important statement like that ("hey, my eye is wonky, and you don't have a clitoris!  I totally have the same pain as you!"), at least don't let them get it on tape.  At least save the "I was misquoted!" defense for yourself, because honey, you'll need it for anyone to take you seriously again.

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