You were never on your own: sobre One Direction, fãs e garotas adolescentes

One Direction, Parque dos Atletas, 8/5/14.

One Direction, Parque dos Atletas, 8/5/14.

Se você frequenta os mesmos círculos de internet que eu frequento, o assunto que mais viu hoje no Twitter foi a saída do Zayn Malik da boyband One Direction. Eu sou fã da banda (anetoda ilustrativa: fui de Pista VIP no show do Rio, enfrentando um engarrafamento de duas horas numa greve de ônibus) e recebi a notícia no caminho para o trabalho, quando a Verônica (minha companheira #1 de fangirling sobre One Direction) me telefonou para contar assim que soube. Na verdade, não fiquei tão surpresa – já estava na cara que isso ia acontecer –, e me afetou menos do que teria me afetado um ano atrás – estou menos investida na banda hoje em dia, especialmente porque fiquei bem decepcionada com o último CD (meu favorito é o terceiro, Midnight Memories, e senti que eles caíram de qualidade no Four). De qualquer forma, foi algo de certa importância pra mim, e teria sido de ainda maior importância um ou dois anos atrás, quando minha paixão pela banda estava em seu auge.

No entanto, mesmo que não fosse o caso, mesmo que eu não desse a mínima pra boybands, mesmo que eu nunca tivesse ouvido falar em Zayn Malik, mesmo que eu não ficasse super emocionada ouvindo “Through the dark”, eu ainda teria ficado irritadíssima com o que vi na internet: um monte de gente zoando as adolescentes que estavam sofrendo por isso, um monte de gente desprezando as fãs que estavam tristes, um monte de adulto achando que emoção de adolescente sobre membro de boyband é “frescura”. Felizmente, meu círculo da internet incluía muito mais gente se posicionando contra esse tipo de reação, mas só bater o olho nos comentários do post do Buzzfeed sobre as reações “dramáticas” das fãs já fez meu sangue ferver.

O que duas adultas fazem na pista VIP.

O que duas adultas fazem na pista VIP.

Existem, a meu ver, dois elementos muito presentes nesse tipo de reação negativa às emoções das fãs: um desprezo (bastante machista) de tudo que é feito por/para garotas adolescentes, e uma violência generacional contra os jovens “desta geração” – como se fossem tão diferentes dos jovens de gerações anteriores.

Um comentário no post do Buzzfeed dizia algo como “que vergonha dos jovens de hoje em dia”, e foi respondido com “bom, é bem parecido com a reação das fãs quando os Beatles acabaram, há décadas”. Porque, vamos lá, é mesmo. O surgimento da categoria “adolescente” é considerado bem recente, e atribuído a questões capitalistas mercadológicas, criando uma faixa idade intermediária entre a criança e o adulto com interesses de consumo específicos, mas adolescentes são adolescentes desde, bem, sempre – mesmo que, antes, fossem só “jovens”. Em A Hard Day’s Night, filme dos Beatles de 1964, hordas de garotas adolescentes correm e gritam e choram e desmaiam quando veem seus ídolos; em This is Us, filme do One Direction de 2013, hordas de garotas adolescentes correm e gritam e choram e desmaiam da mesma forma. Não é uma diferença generacional, não são “as adolescentes de hoje em dia”, os adolescentes da geração seguinte à sua não são piores do que você, agora adulto, quando adolescente. O que me incomoda ainda mais, na realidade, é quando esse discurso é reproduzido pelos próprios jovens: uma nostalgia por algo que não viveu, a ideia de que jovens “antigamente” eram os jovens “certos”, que jovens de hoje são “ridículos”, uma insatisfação com a própria condição de jovem, um claro reflexo de viver em um ambiente em que os adultos desprezam a sua geração.

Outros comentários – os mais frequentes – só desprezavam as adolescentes, ponto. Desprezavam a banda, desprezavam a reação aparentemente desproporcional. Desprezavam o fato de tudo isso ser por uma boyband (considerada musicalmente e culturalmente “inferior”), desprezavam o fato de as reações serem feitas de forma tipicamente feminina e adolescente – lágrimas, superexposição em redes sociais, declarações de amor elaboradas. Algumas pessoas no meu Twitter apontaram o óbvio: tem gente desprezando o sofrimento das garotas por One Direction, mas fazendo tatuagem de Breaking Bad; tem gente desprezando as fãs de uma boyband que estão chorando, mas chorando ainda mais quando o time de futebol perde um campeonato. Há uma discrepância clara entre o que é visto como algo vergonhoso e algo honroso para se ser fã, e a discrepância é baseada em um ponto: é vergonhoso gostar de algo cujo público principal é garotas adolescentes.

Garotas adolescentes são associadas a tudo que há de negativo na feminilidade e na juventude: fraqueza, impulsividade, instabilidade, ora cruéis e manipuladoras, ora frágeis e manipuláveis, ora sedutoras ninfomaníacas, ora inocentes submissas; mas sempre, sempre, sempre ligadas a vergonha, a ignorância, sempre vistas como exageradas cujas emoções e ações são porque “elas não sabem de nada”. Mas eu escrevo isso tudo para questionar por que características e sentimentos naturais, humanos, perfeitamente compreensíveis quando você, como garota adolescente, é pressionada dessa forma, são vistos como negativos, insignificantes, vergonhosos; por que qualquer associação ao ser-garota-adolescente é desprezível a esse ponto.

 

“Dr. Armonson stitched up her wrist wounds. Within five minutes of the transfusion he declared her out of danger. Chucking her under the chin, he said, “What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.” And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of suicide note, and a useless one at that, because she was going to live: “Obviously, Doctor,” she said, “you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”
– Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides

 

+
Hysteria and teenage girls (Hayley Krischer, The Hairpin, 15 mar. 2015)
Uma adolescente chamada Delírio (Lorena Piñeiro, Capitolina, 26 mar. 2015)
O primeiro dia internacional de fanworks (e uma conversa sobre fandom) (Gabriela Martins, Andam Falando, 16 fev. 2015)
Porque internet também é vida real (Sofia Soter, Capitolina, 26 fev. 2015)
http://www.stuffmomnevertoldyou.com/podcasts/teenyboppers-from-musicomaniacs-to-beliebers/”>Teenyboppers: from musicomaniacs to Beliebers (Stuff Mom Never Told You, 7 jan. 2015)
Why take Taylor Swift seriously? (Stuff Mom Never Told You, 5 jan. 2015)

Feeding the trolls: sobre medo, exposição e internet

[TW: menções de ameaças de violência e de incitação ao suicídio]

Eu cresci na internet. Meus últimos mais de 10 anos de vida estão espalhados pela rede, de detalhe em detalhe, por fóruns, emails, blogs, redes sociais já defuntas, rastros e mais rastros de todos os meus percursos desde criança, fáceis de achar com a ajuda do Google e um pouco de empenho. Meu Instagram é aberto, meu Twitter também, e boa parte dos posts do meu Facebook. Insisto nisso, nessa exposição, porque me atrai a ideia de tomar poder sobre minha própria narrativa: de que eu tenho poder sobre minha história e minhas informações, que eu escolho como e quando divulgá-las e que, fazendo isso, ninguém pode usá-las contra mim. É uma estratégia que eu admiro em artistas (em níveis e formas diferentes, a Taylor Swift, as Kardashians e o James Franco são experts no assunto) e que se alinha com minhas posições pró-selfie, pró-oversharing, pró-TMI, pró-desmantelar os limites entre online e offline.

Mas, ultimamente, tenho ficado com medo. Relatos de trolls violentos na internet têm aparecido por todos os lados: toda a história do GamerGate e o assédio sofrido pela Brianna Wu; o depoimento recente da brasileira Ana Freitas; as ameaças de assassinato em massa para intimidar Anita Sarkeesian; a conversa de Lindy West com uma pessoa que a ameaçou no This American Life; essa matéria sobre duas pessoas presas na Inglaterra por ameaças feitas pelo Twitter; and so on, and so forth. Enquanto isso, a Capitolina, revista que eu edito, tem tido cada vez mais visibilidade. E, por consequência, cada vez mais comentários desagradáveis, dos ridículos aos assustadores. Quando saímos na Folha de S. Paulo, não tive coragem de ler os comentários – só li os que amigas me mandaram diretamente, e acreditei que era melhor me abster quando minha irmã disse que queria chorar lendo alguns.

Normalmente, eu fico responsável por moderar os comentários no site. Porque, sim, moderamos os comentários. Para que a revista seja um espaço seguro para garotas adolescentes, não podemos deixar comentários grosseiros, desrespeitosos ou violentos passarem por nosso crivo. Por causa dessa moderação, as leitoras, felizmente, não têm que lidar com eles. Mas, para isso, eu tenho que lidar com eles antes.

Procuro, sempre, seguir a técnica Taylor Swift: haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate and I’m just gonna shake it off. Mas tem dias em que é difícil. Tem dias em que os comentários e a violência te colocam para baixo. Tem dias em que ler sobre as ameaças cada vez mais agressivas recebidas por outras mulheres na internet fazem com que eu considere desistir, pagar alguém pra apagar todos os meus traços possíveis online, sair de todas as redes sociais, me proteger desse tipo de ataque.

Os comentários que recebemos não costumam ser assustadores em si, ou explicitamente violentos. Normalmente, são microagressões, ofensas batidas, acusações de “vitimismo” e de “falta de rola”. Até o momento, o único comentário que recebemos que, por si só, ativamente me fez mal foi o seguinte, em resposta a este post:

Screen Shot 2014-09-23 at 8.27.55 PM2

Não foi diretamente direcionado a mim. Não é nem uma ameaça exatamente. Mas abrir o Disqus para moderar comentários e ler a frase “(…) peguem uma corda, amarrem num palanque, e se enforquem.” me desestabilizou. Ainda mais, me desestabilizou o fato de que isso vem de alguém que “nem perdeu tempo lendo essa palhaçada”; vem de alguém que tem tanto ódio para cuspir que não hesita em dizer pra pessoas que escreveram algo – algo que ele nem sabe o que é – que elas deviam se matar em vez de escrever.

Nas matérias que li em que agressores/bullies/trolls/qualquer-que-seja-o-melhor-nome foram entrevistados, eles dizem que estavam entediados, não tinham nada melhor pra fazer, e decidiram xingar alguém na internet; que nem tinham lido o que a pessoa escreveu, que nem sabiam exatamente o que ela fazia, mas que viram alguém xingando ela e acharam que parecia divertido; que não viram nada demais em ameaçar violência, em invadir a vida de alguém, em fazer aquela pessoa sentir medo; que a validação que sentiram de outros bullies/trolls/agressores foi maior do que qualquer preocupação por fazerem mal a alguém. A irracionalidade e a violência gratuita dessas pessoas me aterroriza. É um pouco como se meus bullies de colégio – que funcionavam de forma semelhante, vendo diversão inocente em me fazer chorar no recreio, se sentindo mais validados pelas risadas dos colegas do que preocupados com a consequência das suas ações – tivessem passado da adolescência e ganhado mais aliados, mais poder, mais maldade e mais imunidade (afinal, na internet é tão fácil ser anônimo).

Nesses momentos de medo, em que me dou conta que isso só vai piorar, que para ter o nível de exposição e sucesso e alcance que quero com meu trabalho vou me tornar cada dia mais vulnerável a essas pessoas, é difícil continuar. Hoje, quando comecei a escrever este texto, perguntei no Twitter se outras escritoras que publicavam na internet sentiam esse medo também, porque o medo estava batendo por aqui. Muitas disseram que sim, que sentem, que nem publicam textos na internet mas já sofreram assédio online, que deixam de publicar por medo. Mas também me lembraram que essas reações só justificam a importância e a força do que eu faço, e que minha dose de coragem pode ajudar outras pessoas. Por isso, termino esse texto lembrando a Lewis’s Law, que tenho vontade de escrever e colar no meu computador para manter em mente: “the comments on any article about feminism justify feminism”. Quando incomodamos a este ponto, é porque estamos fazendo alguma coisa certa.

Recapitulando: Fev. 2015

PicMonkey Collage4

Fevereiro passou mais rápido do que eu esperava. Chegou dia 26, me dei conta de que já era o fim do mês (essa coisa de mês de 28 dias me deixa perdida), corri para resolver as últimas pendências (ou seja, escrevi uns cinco textos pelo menos nos últimos 3 dias). Passou rápido, mas também foi cheio para caramba. Comecei o #youcandoit aqui no blog, e consegui seguir os desafios até agora. Trabalhei à beça, como de costume. Fui a Nova Orleans (tô devendo post, mas prometo que daqui a pouco sai) fazer uma viagem meio estranha para apresentar um artigo numa conferência enorme de Relações Internacionais. A Capitolina saiu na Folha de S. Paulo, e os dias desde então vieram com chuvas de convites, propostas e possibilidades que ainda estou tentando processar (e com um bando de haters também, mas aí eu só sigo o método Taylor Swift). Escrevi para a revista sobre internet também ser irl e sobre fazer amizades, além das minhas já habituais listas de séries, livros, filmes e jogos e de links. Agora escrevo para vocês este pequeno e modesto resumo do que fiz em 28 dias muito cheios (e que, pelo que parece, foram menos cheios do que os próximos 31 serão).

Capitolina na Folha de S. Paulo! Foto por Babi.

Capitolina na Folha de S. Paulo! Foto por Babi.

LIVROS

Como no caso de janeiro, este meu mês foi meio desanimado nas leituras… até que eu fui pra Nova Orleans e comprei uns 20 livros e me empolguei de novo. Mesmo assim, li muito menos do que meu ritmo normal:

It had to be you, Cecily von Ziegesar
Estava estagnada nas minhas leituras, abrindo livros pra começar a largando logo depois, e num começo sincero de burnout de trabalho. Recorri, então, à minha cura mais eficiente: reler livros de Gossip Girl. Sou particularmente fã dessa prequel, escrita depois da série toda ser publicada, porque tem vários nods ao resto da história, e porque my one true love Blair Waldorf está cheia das inseguranças e struggling com a vida, como sempre, e surpreendentemente isso me reconforta.

&Sons, David Gilbert
Esse foi o livro no qual eu tava parada antes de pegar It had to be you pra reler, mas voltei pra ele quando acabei. É sobre dramas familiares e mundo editorial no Upper East Side, ou seja, right up my alley, mas acabei achando bem sem graça. Os dramas dos personagens principais não me tocaram, o narrador tem um certo potencial para Tom Ripley que não é completado, e lá pra página 200 a história toma um tom levemente fantástico/sci-fi que fica perdido.

Theory of international politics and zombies: revived edition, Daniel W. Drezner
Um dos livros que comprei na feira da ISA em Nova Orleans, e que eu estava curiosa pra ler direito fazia um tempo (já tinha dado uma olhada porque o namorado estava usando pra monografia, mas ainda não tinha parado pra ler). Joguei na bolsa de livros que carreguei comigo no voo de volta (sim, precisei de uma bolsa de mão só para livros) e li ele todo no avião. A premissa é simples: o autor pega várias teorias de Relações Internacionais e vê quais seriam as consequências de um apocalipse zumbi de acordo com cada teoria. O livro acaba sendo super divertido, e a melhor introdução básica para teorias de RI que eu já li. Se algum leitor-imaginário-hipotético desse blog estiver interessado em RI, recomendo muito ler esse livro pra ter uma noção simples de quais são as teorias principais do campo.

Nova Orleans.

Nova Orleans.

FILMES

Resolvi compensar os únicos dois filmes de janeiro e vi sete em fevereiro (fiquei especialmente motivada depois de abrir meu antigo Livejournal e ver que eu tinha assistido aproximadamente 50 filmes de janeiro a abril de 2012). Tudo bem que dos sete eu já tinha visto três, mas vale mesmo assim.

The Breakfast Club
Já vi esse filme uma porção de vezes, mas o namorado nunca tinha visto. Era um dia complicado para ele, e decidimos ver algo leve e fofo no Netflix. Resultado: The Breakfast Club e eu cantando muito empolgada quando tocava “Don’t you (forget about me)” e descobrindo que ainda me emociono sinceramente com o discurso final:

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us – in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

What If
Bateu uma vontade de comédia romântica, o Netflix não parava de me recomendar esse filme, e minha irmã tinha dito que era fofo. Então lá fui eu dar uma chance. Achei mesmo bem fofo, com Daniel Radcliffe e Zoe Kazan fazendo melhores amigos inevitavelmente apaixonados, mas o ponto alto para mim foi a química impressionante do Adam Driver e da Mackenzie Davis no papel do casal secundário.

Election
Tinha acabado What If mas a insônia prosseguia, aí foi hora de ver Election, que estava na minha lista há (literais) anos. Reese Whiterspoon como aluna obsessiva overachiever sem dimensão da realidade, Matthew Broderick como professor idealista que perde o controle e dramas escolares que no fundo acabam sendo mais darks do que parecem? Sign me up! Recomendo bastante para quem tem os mesmos gostos particulares do que eu para ficção.

The Devil Wears Prada
Mais uma noite de insônia e falta de motivação pro dia seguinte. Resolvi recorrer, então, ao sempre animador e motivacional The Devil Wears Prada. O resultado de ver Andie e Miranda em seus arcos de ascenção e queda, entretanto, foi mais bittersweet do que eu esperava, com muitas preocupações sobre a vida misturadas ao ímpeto de dominar o mundo como editora de uma revista de sucesso (mas, bem, talvez seja só culpa da insônia).

High Fidelity
Mais um que eu já tinha visto antes mas o namorado não tinha visto ainda. Apesar de ter o DVD, acho que fazia muito tempo desde a última vez que tinha assistido, e eu não lembrava de várias coisas. Fiquei com vontade de reler o livro, reencontrar Rob narrado por Nick Hornby. Fiquei com vontade, também, de rever mais filmes do John Cusack nessa época (como Serendipity, uma das minhas romcoms favoritas).

Horns
Comecei a ver em Nova Orleans, pausei, continuei uns dois dias depois, pausei, e terminei só depois de chegar no Rio. Talvez por isso tenha achado a diferença entre a primeira parte do filme e a segunda ainda mais gritante, de uma metade melancólica para uma violenta e cheia de gore. Já faz mais de um ano que li o livro, acho, então talvez eu também não lembrasse tão claramente dessa mudança radical de tom para o final. No fim das contas, a impressão maior que o filme deixou é que o Daniel Radcliffe até faz um sotaque americano simpático.

Only Lovers Left Alive
O que tenho a comentar sobre esse filme é uma sequência enorme de emojis de coração. Tilda Swinton? Check. Tilda Swinton como vampira maravilhosa, ainda por cima? Check. Tom Hiddleston de vampiro músico colecionador de guitarras deprimido? Check. Tangiers & Detroit comparadas e contrastadas? Check. Anton Yelchin roqueiro? Check. John Hurt como Kit Marlowe falando sobre Shakespeare? Check. Basicamente um monte de gente maravilhosa como vampiros roqueiros maravilhosos em cidades maravilhosas? Pois é.

1. Vendo The Breakfast Club; 2. Aniversário do avô; 3. Máscaras faciais e Pretty Little Liars com a irmã; 4. Namorado atacando ferozmente a pizza.

1. Vendo The Breakfast Club; 2. Aniversário do avô; 3. Máscaras faciais e Pretty Little Liars com a irmã; 4. Namorado atacando ferozmente a pizza.

LINKS: LONGREADS

Manifesto of the Committee to Abolish Outer Space (Sam Kriss, The New Inquiry, 2 fev. 2015): pessimismo, capitalismo, os males da sociedade e o espaço sideral.
“They showed us nebulae, big pink and blue clouds draped in braids of purple stars, always resolving themselves at the pace of cosmic infinity into genital forms, cocks and cunts light years wide. They superimposed puddle-thin quotes over these pictures, so that the galaxies could speak to you in the depths of your loneliness, whispering from across a trackless infinity that you’re so much better than everyone else, because you fucking love science. The words are lies, the colors are lies, the nebulae are lies. These images are collated and pigmented by computers; they’re not a scene you could ever see out the porthole of your spaceship. Space isn’t even ugly; it isn’t anything. It’s a dead black void scattered with a few grey rocks, and they crash into each other according to a precise mathematical senselessness until all that’s left is dust.”

My “Rocky Horror Picture Show” identity both proves and disproves the existence of the essential soul (Jade Sylvan, The Toast, 8 out. 2014): sobre Rocky Horror Picture Show, queerness, descobrimento e identidade.
“Me, I’ve always been Columbia. When I open my heart and allow a furtive peek into the innermost mansions of my ribcage’s interior castle, there is Columbia, flashing nip and engaging in rough, exhibitionistic grinding with bad-news biker, Eddie. Columbia is the impetuous bisexual slut in a suit of ten thousand sparkles tap-dancing along my nadis, spinning in shimmering, spastic vortexes and falling over gracelessly in each chakra. If I were standing at the liminal boundary between two mystic worlds, and in order to pass through the threshold I had to gaze into a magic mirror and confront my True Self, I would see, in that looking glass, a cloudy reflection of Columbia in torn flannel pajamas and Mickey Mouse ears, pining for a brilliant, beautiful narcissist as she barters for status with whatever charm and talent she can collect from the piecemeal hipster juggernaut of her high-pitched topple through spacetime.”

Can bondage play reduce anxiety? (Roni Jacobson, Science of Us, 3 fev. 2015): sobre subspace/topspace e como BDSM pode ser relaxante.
““We think that may be one of the things that functionally bottoming does for people,” Sagarin said. “It lets people let go for a while. You’re put in a position where you don’t have control and that is actually pretty freeing. You can just relax and go with it.” In other words, like meditation and certain forms of exercise (under the right conditions), subbing could induce states in which the part of your brain responsible for, say, writing intelligible work emails shuts down a bit, and as a result, other, more spiritual feelings of flow and connectedness take hold instead.”

Memes and Misogynoir (Laur M. Jackson, The Awl, 28 ago. 2014): sobre a interseção do racismo e da misoginia, e sobre a manifestação dos preconceitos em memes.
“Scholar Moya Bailey of Crunk Feminist Collective invented the term “misogynoir” to succinctly describe the anti-Black misogynist intersection of racism and misogyny that uniquely impacts the lived experiences of Black women. More than just a combination of those two oppressive regimes, misogynoir lives in a realm apart from general-use sexism—which often acts as a placeholder for strictly white women’s experiences with misogyny—and anti-Black racism that targets Black men. Misogynoir acknowledges that while white women have been fighting for the chance to prove themselves in the workplace, Black women are considered the workhorse of both white and Black America. Misogynoir explains why an eight-year-old Academy Award nominee can be called a “cunt” with nary a peep from white feminists, while Lil Wayne’s reference to Emmett Till is considered out of line, and “Rich as Fuck” makes the mainstream airwaves.”

Self-portraits of a lady (Monica Heisey, Rookie, 16 jan. 2015): sobre selfies que não publicamos, registro e nostalgia.
“We’re told that selfies are narcissistic, frivolous cries for help. But it doesn’t feel frivolous to bear witness to my body on a particular day of a transitory existence. It feels good! Still, the idea of anyone happening upon me, in my bathroom or bedroom or car, snapping pictures because I’m happy, trying something new hair-wise, or I just opened my phone and the app was there and, Hey, why not, is somewhat mortifying. I would, I think, feel very exposed. But exposed for what? For finding myself attractive? For being the opposite of that One Direction jibber-jabber: “You don’t know you’re beautiful / That’s what makes you beautiful”? Shut it, Harry. My ownership over the fact that I like my lips and hair and face (AND BUTT) makes me beautiful, and the photos on my phone are a testament to moments I felt my own beauty (or found beauty in some weird angle or part of me) and got to portray that exactly as I chose. I feel some embarrassment at the admission of their existence, but in the moment, the documenting of my body and life and youth feels like the most natural thing in the world.”

All my exes live in texts: why the social media generation never really breaks up (Maureen O’Connor, The Cut, 21 jul. 2013): sobre a impossibilidade de evitar ex-relacionamentos nas redes sociais.
“”There was a time, I am told, when exes lived in Texas and you could avoid them by moving to Tennessee. Cutting ties is no longer so easy—nor, I guess, do we really want it to be. We gorge ourselves on information about the lives of our exes. We can’t help ourselves. There’s the ex who “likes” everything you post. The ex who appears in automated birthday reminders. The ex who appears in your OkCupid matches. The ex whose musical taste you heed on Spotify. The ex whose new girlfriend sent a friend request. The ex you follow so you know how to win him back. The ex you follow so you know how to avoid her in person. The ex you watched deteriorate after the breakup. (Are you guilty or proud?) The ex who finally took your advice, after the breakup. (Are you frustrated or proud?) The ex whose new partner is exactly like you. (Are you flattered or creeped out?) The ex whose name appears as an autocorrection in your phone. (Are you sure you don’t talk about him incessantly? Word recognition suggests otherwise.) The ex whose new partner blogs about their sex life. The ex who still has your naked pictures. The ex who untagged every picture from your relationship. The ex you suspect is reading your e-mail. The ex you watch lead the life you’d dreamed of having together, but seeing it now, you’re so glad you didn’t.””

Me, myself and I (Olivia Laing, Aeon, 19 dez. 2012): sobre cidades e solidão.
“Something funny happens to people who are lonely. The lonelier they get, the less adept they become at navigating social currents. Loneliness grows around them, like mould or fur, a prophylactic that inhibits contact, no matter how badly contact is desired. Loneliness is accretive, extending and perpetuating itself. Once it becomes impacted, it isn’t easy to dislodge. When I think of its advance, an anchoress’s cell comes to mind, as does the exoskeleton of a gastropod.”

I love working with women and anyone else who isn’t a dude (Marianne, xoJane, 7 fev. 2015): sobre espaços de trabalho exclusivamente femininos.
“I want slumber parties, literal or figurative, where we have room to be vulnerable with each other without following it up with fear of what that vulnerability is going to cost. I want honest conversations. I want mentorships and requests for help. I want consideration for how we’re different even when our identities sometimes intersect — and I want that to be a strength rather than an excuse to tear each other down.”

The question of light: Tilda Swinton’s speech at the Mark Rothko Chapel (Tilda Swinton, Connerhabib’s blog, 27 jan. 2015): Tilda Swinton sobre arte, luz e escuridão.
“I believe that all great art holds the power to dissolve things: time, distance, difference, injustice, alienation, despair. I believe that all great art holds the power to mend things: join, comfort, inspire hope in fellowship, reconcile us to our selves. Art is good for my soul precisely because it reminds me that we have souls in the first place. We stand before a work of art and our spirit is lifted by it: amazing that someone is like us! We stand before a work of art and our spirit resists: amazing that someone is different!”

Capitalism [Dot] Blogspot [Dot] Com (Arabelle Sicardi, The Style Con, 3 fev. 2014): sobre bloggers de moda e responsabilidade social.
“It comes to this: fashion bloggers, a lot of us, are a bunch of sell-outs. This not because we’re not aware of implications of race and class and fashion in our own lives, but because internet culture is such that if fashion bloggers implicitly talk about race and politics on their blogs, they’re definitely going to lose money over it. Blogging is a business, and that money pays the rent more and more often. The fashion blogosphere as a democracy? Hardly: there are pied pipers and they’ve rolled out the contracts. Note the predominance of white, thin bloggers gaining the most traction with brand collaborations. Note, even, the number of them with legitimate modeling contracts as a result of their blogs. Fashion as a democracy is funny, because even if it started off very punk, very d.i.y, readership habits have valorized blogs that mimic and adopt the framework of the fashion system that kept bloggers at bay for years. Bloggers are on the industry payroll now, and it benefits us to keep quiet about things. I’d like to hope this is common knowledge, but perhaps it’s not.”

Red & Lipstick (Leesa Cross-Smith, Real Pants, 9 fev. 2015): sobre batom vermelho.
“There are all sorts of articles and tutorials called HOW TO WEAR RED LIPSTICK when the answer is actually quite simple: IF YOU WANT TO WEAR IT, PUT IT ON. There are articles “exposing” how different celebrity women look when they aren’t wearing their signature red lips/red lipstick. I think all women look beautiful in red lipstick. Beautiful, without. Whatever they want. But I love wearing it because even when I’m lazy and getting nothing done and don’t even leave the house, I have on red lipstick so I’m taking care of bidness. TCemeffingB.”

A bridge between love & lipstick (Arabelle Sicardi, Buzzfeed, 21 jan. 2015): sobre maquiagem, queerness e sobrevivência.
“Makeup is by no means natural. That’s the point. If I work hard to survive, you will pay attention when you see me, and you will see the work. Because it is work: to survive, when others would wish otherwise. They want us to disappear if we can’t be what they want. But beauty lets me see myself the way I need to be seen; it is redemptive in ways that I often don’t have the courage to be verbally. I let it speak for me, at least the preliminaries of getting to know me: This is weird, you might not like it, but if you do — come here, you see me as I am. Hello.”

I dated Christian Grey: how women are groomed for abuse (Samantha Field, The Mary Sue, 14 fev. 2015): sobre 50 shades of grey, romantização e normalização de abuso.
“Fifty Shades of Grey does to its audience what Christian does to Ana and what my rapist did to me: it completely resets our expectations and what we believe to be acceptable. Christian makes it clear to Ana and to us that he is narcissistic, controlling, violent, and demanding, and we are not permitted to expect anything more from him. So, in the rare moments when he is genuinely sweet (with “eat me” and “drink me” cards next to ibuprofen and orange juice, with champagne served out of tea cups) the audience oos and awws. In any other context, those things would be sweet, even adorable. But, when Christian Grey does it, it takes on a whole new meaning because Ana—and the audience—is being graced with crumbs of normalcy as if we should be grateful for them.”

Feminist writers are so besieged by online abuse that some have begun to retire (Michelle Goldberg, Washington Post, 20 fev. 2015): sobre abuso, exposição e os riscos e desafios de escrever sobre feminismo online.
“Feminists of the past faced angry critics, letters to the editor and even protests. But the incessant, violent, sneering, sexualized hatred their successors absorb is harder to escape. For women of color, racial abuse comes along with the sexism. “I have received racialized rape threats that I don’t think I would necessarily receive if I were white,” Wilson says. “A lot of things about anatomy — black women’s anatomy.” She talks about the online abuse in therapy. “There is trauma, especially related to the death and rape threats,” she says. Eventually, such sustained abuse ends up changing people — both how they live and how they work.”

O primeiro dia internacional de fanworks (e uma conversa sobre fandom) (Gabriela Martins, Andam Falando, 16 fev. 2015): sobre fandoms e as amizades que vêm deles (escrito pela Gabhi, que eu conheci, adivinhem?, através de fandoms).
“A palavra chave pra fandom é comunidade. Além de eu me desenvolver enquanto ser humano, ser romântico e ser sexual, descobrir o que eu gosto e o que eu não gosto através de leitura e escrever, eu ainda me desenvolvo enquanto ser social. Metade dos meus amigos no Facebook são pessoas desses primeiros fandoms, de mais de dez anos atrás. Essas amizades persistiram. Os interesses foram gradualmente mudando, fandoms foram sendo abandonados, mas e o que importava isso, se a amizade já estava mais do que bem cimentada? Tudo bem que nossas primeiras conversas eram todas em CAPSLOCK gritando sobre o como MEU DEUS OLHA O CABELO NOVO DO PIERRE EU VOU CHORAR MEU DEUS EU QUERO AQUELE HOMEM PRA MIM OU PRO DAVID NÃO TENHO CERTEZA, as conversas iam evoluindo para assuntos muito reais, medos, felicidades, tudo sendo compartilhado através de amizades, em boa parte virtuais, que transcenderam pro mundo real. Eu não consigo contar nos dedos das duas mãos quantas amigas “online” de fandoms eu já conheci pessoalmente, e mantenho um contato diário, que com muitas pessoas que eu conheci por outros meios, eu não mantenho. Existe uma certa mágica especial em olhar pra alguém, e saber que aquela pessoa já leu até aquela fan fic estranha de Wincest que tu escreveu com treze anos.”

Severus Snape is a complete twat and all this “tragic hero” nonsense needs to stop (Seriouslysiri, Nerds doing stuff, 11 fev. 2015): sobre a romantização do Snape em Harry Potter e como na verdade ele é um completo babaca. (Este link causou muita polêmica no meu Facebook, e estou sempre disposta a conversar sobre ele nos comentários.)
“None of the motivations behind Severus Snape’s actions throughout the course of his life qualify him for a heroic role. He is selfish, possessive, and worst of all obsessive, which makes him a relentless double agent with no morals to speak of. His reasoning is flawed at best and absolutely illogical at worst, and his inability to let go of the past and the friendship that he destroyed create a lack of direction with a single focus: somehow proving that he deserves Lily Evans. His actions after her death are solely for her benefit–he betrays Voldemort because he kills the woman he “loves” and cares for Harry because he has her eyes. He does half of these things poorly, and all with a horrible attitude. I do not believe he ever truly understands why he is not deserving of her affection. His backstory may be tragic, but that in no way excuses his actions.”

Love, anger and pride: How Ann-Marie MacDonald learned to let go of the past (Ann-Marie MacDonald, The Globe and Mail, 20 jun. 2014): sobre homofobia, famílias, amor e raiva.
“Self-hatred doesn’t just go away. It doesn’t just always get better, not on its own. The past grows inside you. Will it be a tumour or a story that can be shared and spread out across the sky? We need our stories. Remember who we are. Remember where we come from. Don’t skip over anything. Celebrate but never forget. I try every day to do the hard thing, the simple thing, which is to open my heart and change it. My mother said, “I wish you had cancer.” My mother said, “God bless you and Alisa. You are wonderful mothers.” There is a Roadrunner-Wile E. Coyote-sized canyon between those statements. A gap. I fell into it and hit bottom when I found myself about to hurt my child.”

Cumprindo os desafios #youcandoit.

Cumprindo os desafios #youcandoit.

LINKS: ÁUDIO & VÍDEO & ETC.

A brief history of teenage bedrooms in film (Buzzfeed, 13 jan. 2015): 100 quartos de adolescentes em filmes, representando de 1768 (Maria Antonieta) a 2062 (The Jetsons).

Politicians and hip hop: combo imagens de políticos ao longo da história + quotes de hip hop.

Recapitulando: Jan. 2015

1. Na piscina; 2. Gallette des rois; 3. Pintando o cabelo; 4. Inspirações para a Capitolina; 4. Dia de reis; 5. Compras do Autostraddle; 6. Andando de bicicleta; 7. A bagunça da cabeceira; 8. Na piscina.

 

Janeiro (e 2015) começou numa festa de ano novo em Santa Teresa, cercada de amigos novos e antigos, ao lado de algumas das pessoas mais especiais da minha vida. Janeiro envolveu tentativas de andar de bicicleta (bem sucedidas!), de jogar GTA (horrivelmente mal sucedidas), de virar a Taylor Swift (o cabelo pelo menos está no caminho certo) e de decidir o que fazer da minha vida (the jury’s still out on that one). Trabalhei sem parar, no meu dayjob, nos freelas, na Capitolina, mas por isso pude cortar e pintar meu cabelo, comprar um salto novo (como se eu precisasse de mais um), comprar e montar uma piscina inflável para suportar o calor carioca, e almoçar frequentemente em lugares gostosos que fazem eu me sentir bem. E até agora consegui cumprir uma das minhas resoluções pessoais de ano novo: voltar a escrever mais: na Capitolina falei de Taylor Swift com a Thais, de poder com a Clara, de Sailor Moon no meio de um monte de gente, um pouquinho de Gossip Girl, e de frustrações comigo mesma.

O próximo passo é escrever nesse blog algo além de listas (prometo que tenho um .doc aberto aqui com um texto em andamento), mas, por enquanto, cá está meu mês de janeiro, em listas:

LIVROS

Li muito menos do que de costume este mês, porque não encontrei tempo para investir em leituras. Dos três livros, um eu tinha começado em dezembro, um é acadêmico e um é uma releitura. Ou seja, nada muito inovador, né? De qualquer forma, eles são:

The bonfire of the vanities, Tom Wolfe
Comecei no final de dezembro achando que seria uma leitura mais rápida do que foi. Mas as 600 páginas do romance são densas, pingando de críticas sociais, arquétipos novaiorquinos e opulência do Upper East Side. Achei especialmente propício estar lendo um livro que é sobre racismo, injustiça e violência policial e o que constrói uma vítima ao olhar do público em um momento sociopolítico como o que vivemos agora.

Le genre, théorie et controverses, Laure Bereni & Mathieu Trachman (Ed.)
Demorei umas semanas pra matar o romance do Tom Wolfe, mas peguei um livro acadêmico sobre gênero em francês e terminei em uma noite de insônia. Vai entender, né? A coletânea é curta, e não reúne os textos mais úteis para alguém se iniciando nos estudos de gênero ou para alguém procurando algo mais teórico e abrangente; mas foi muito enriquecedora para mim, por conta dos comentários e estudos sobre como a teoria de gênero se manifesta na França, e sobre os debates feministas específicos de lá.

The secret history, Donna Tartt
Eu já falei sobre o quanto eu amo esse livro aqui, então vou ficar quieta dessa vez, mas preciso comentar a diferença da experiência de relê-lo. Da primeira vez que li, o caráter trágico – no sentido mais grego e tradicional – me marcou; mas, da segunda vez, a tristeza, a tragédia mais pontual e humana, me tocou muito mais. Acho que na primeira leitura eu ainda estava envolvida nas personas que os personagens criavam para eles mesmos, e ler já sabendo do que acontece fez com que tudo parecesse muito mais tocante e destruidor.

1. Teresa arrumando mala; 2. Show do Luiz Tatit e do Arrigo Barnabé; 3. Vovó coroada no Dia de Reis.

1. Teresa arrumando mala; 2. Show do Luiz Tatit e do Arrigo Barnabé; 3. Vovó coroada no Dia de Reis.

1. Vendo Netflix no sofá; 2. Prêmio concedido pela Clara; 3. Distrações na livraria.

1. Vendo Netflix no sofá; 2. Prêmio concedido pela Clara; 3. Distrações na livraria.

 

FILMES

Na época em que eu usava Livejournal, toda semana eu fazia uma lista de filmes que tinha visto. E eram tantos por semana, que agora eu me pergunto se não tinha mesmo algum superpoder de manipular o tempo. Hoje em dia vejo poucos filmes, e este mês foram só dois:

Girltrash: All night long (2014)
Refleti muito antes de ver esse filme, por conta das controvérsias relativas ao seu lançamento, mas o Netflix me sugeriu ele tantas vezes que não resisti. Acabei assistindo e enchendo o saco da Verônica por mensagem de tanto que gostei. É ridículo, é cafona demaaaaais, mas é uma comédia romântica musical lésbica, e tem a Tasha de The L Word no papel de uma criminosa badass, então foi impossível não adorar. Passei a semana seguinte com as músicas na cabeça (e, infelizmente, não consigo achar o CD pra baixar ou pra ouvir no Youtube).

Relatos Salvajes (2014)
Esse filme tá tão hypado que nem dá pra comentar sem falar tudo que já falaram antes de mim: é sim maravilhoso, é sim hilário, a cena do casamento é espetacular, a cena do avião também. Alguns relatos de vingança me tocaram mais do que outros, e achei um em particular (o que envolve dois homens numa estrada brigando por trânsito) bastante chato, mas de forma geral ver as vinganças violentas às pequenas indignações diárias foi surpreendentemente catártico.

1. Capitolindas no ano novo; 2. Capitolindas pós-ano novo; 3. Reunião de editoras da Capitolina; 4. #springbreakers

1. Capitolindas no ano novo; 2. Capitolindas pós-ano novo; 3. Reunião de editoras da Capitolina; 4. #springbreakers

 

LINKS: LONGREADS

Já que o roundup de links de 2014 fez sucesso, fica aqui o de janeiro de 2015:

Call it in (Estelle, Suzie X, Jamia and Lola, Rookie, 29 jan. 2015): sobre a importância e as dificuldades de apontar quando alguém está sendo ofensivo.
“That’s it: just the act of talking to another person can affect us in a bunch of different ways/bring up really interesting and important issues. In the amazing book Citizen, Claudia Rankine quotes Judith Butler: “We suffer from the condition of being addressable.” Language affects us, and is a way we affect others. But because of the multiplicity of ways we can engage with one another—in person, through email, and more flexible written mediums like Tumblr or Twitter—I feel like it’s also so easy to misspeak, hurt another person, and/or just plain fuck up.”

A rotina dos outros (Luiza Sposito Vilela, Guarda-Chuva, 27 jan. 2015): sobre home office, disciplina, e a grama mais verde do vizinho.
“Quer dizer, assim como é preciso entender muito bem de métrica para ser bom de verso livre, acho que é preciso de alguma ordem no caos para que seja possível perder a linha e liberar a criatividade. Por mais que a porraloquice beatnik seja atraente de um ponto de vista romântico, e que seja de fato importante viver muitas coisas para acumular histórias, tenho cada vez mais certeza de que a rotina só ajuda. Não precisa ser uma estrutura murakamiana, tipo acordar às 4h, escrever o dia todo, correr 10k e ir dormir às 21h, mas entender que a repetição é algo importante e que ela cria um ritmo meio encantatório.”

Powerful women and their “uniforms”: what I’ve learned (Lisa Miller, The Cut, 7 jan. 2015): sobre a performance estética de mulheres poderosas.
“The most successful work uniforms resolve, at least on the surface, a woman’s own inner conflicts about sex and power. Because that’s really the question, isn’t it? Dressing for the office is harder for women than it is for men — it is harder — because workplaces are still overwhelmingly run by men, and women, who compete for recognition under that male gaze, must decide how willing they are to be sexy at work. (For better or worse, the idea of a workforce uniformed in neutralizing “power suits,” armies of men and women decked out in shoulder pads and button-downs, never took off.) How much do you acknowledge to your subordinates and bosses that you have boobs; how much do you remind them with your wardrobe choices that the clothes you’ve put on in the morning sometimes come off? When faced with decisions about what to wear, women have to navigate these issues constantly and explicitly. Inside every woman’s mind runs an endless ticker: How much leg, how much waist, how much skin, how much ass, etc. Are you a Peggy, all self-serious, hiding your sexuality beneath a tweedy habit? Or are you a Joan, flaunting it, understanding that with sex comes power?”

“Sponsored” by my husband: Why it’s a problem that writers never talk about where their money comes from? (Ann Bauer, Salon, 25 jan. 2015): sobre privilégio, arte e ilusões de meritocracia.
“In my opinion, we do an enormous “let them eat cake” disservice to our community when we obfuscate the circumstances that help us write, publish and in some way succeed. I can’t claim the wealth of the first author (not even close); nor do I have the connections of the second. I don’t have their fame either. But I do have a huge advantage over the writer who is living paycheck to paycheck, or lonely and isolated, or dealing with a medical condition, or working a full-time job.”

Ty-Ty, Lena, Yonce and Jenna: no bullshite busines advice from babes you’d like to be BFFs with (Gala Darling, 26 jan. 2015): motivacional para #girlbosses por aí.
“This is YOUR TIME. “One day” and “someday” will never come. It’s so easy to get sucked into the cycle of safely doing what needs to be done, and then you’ll wake up, you’ll be 65, and your life will have passed you by. You may not feel like a bad bitch right now, but trust me, you are. If the people around you don’t make you feel awesome, go in search of people who do. Every single woman I spend time with is one who uplifts, inspires, and encourages me to be the best I can be. You deserve the same!”

“O B de LGBT poderia significar banana que ninguém se importaria” (Jarid Arraes, Forum, 22 jan. 2015): sobre invisibilidade bissexual.
“Para aqueles que precisam de algum apoio, Paulo César Góis lembra: “Não existe maneira correta de ser bissexual. Bissexual não é somente a pessoa que sente atração 50% por mulher e 50% por homem; estas sequer são as únicas possibilidades de gênero e certamente a sexualidade é muito complexa para ser definida dessa forma rasa e rígida”. Sua mensagem é, afinal, de encorajamento – algo que brota da luta genuína: “Se você é uma pessoa que reconhece em si mesma o potencial para se atrair por mais de um gênero, não se sinta com medo de usar a palavra com B. Não tenha medo de ser quem é. A vida é muito curta pra isso. Sim, é difícil — às vezes vêm golpes de onde a gente menos espera —, mas a liberdade também é gloriosa.””

Taylor Swift’s “Time” & “Businessweek” cover photos are powerful, assertive and different from the rest (Rachel Semigran, Bustle, 14 nov. 2014): sobre Taylor Swift como mulher de negócios vs. Taylor Swift como popstar.
“It didn’t take long before the Internet pointed out that the image of Swift on both is nearly identical, but that’s not what actually matters about the covers. What does matter is the fact that Swift appears on both covers with her face taking up the entire real estate. Her gaze is forward, directed right at the reader. It is the sort of cover that is more often reserved for men because it is a powerful and assertive image. More often than not, women are depicted on the covers of magazines showing off their sexy bodies, desirable fashion, and/or they’re very photoshopped, and look completely non-threatening. Take a close look the next time you’re a the magazine aisle at the grocery store and you might notice just how rarely women are looking directly at you without being completely sexualized.”

Em defesa da “cultura inútil” (Laura Pires, Medium, 31 jul. 2014): porque essa coisa de “cultura útil” x “cultura inútil” já cansou.
“Em época de BBB, é muito comum. Começam a brotar pelo Facebook frases do tipo “largue o BBB e vá ler um livro”, como se as duas atitudes fossem mutuamente excludentes. Quando se usa uma frase dessas, pressupõe-se que quem gosta de BBB não lê livros e vice-versa, e se está dizendo nas entrelinhas também que ler livros é uma atividade intelectual e cultural superior a assistir a reality shows.”

There are no cookies: Ten ways to take action as a trans ally (even if you’re also trans) (Mari Brighe, Autostraddle, 13 jan. 2015): um guia simples, claro e direto para aliados.
“Trans people are extremely grateful for our allies. You’re absolutely critical in helping us move our causes forward. That being said, don’t expect a constant outpouring of thank-yous for what you’re doing. Don’t get huffy if you don’t get hugs and cookies and rainbow glitter for every single thing you do as an ally. Don’t pout if you don’t get the “props” you deserve for the work you’re doing. And no, you don’t get a special ally flag. Allies don’t do their work because they want gratitude and recognition — they do it because they genuinely care about trans people and want to see the world improve for them. If seeing positive change isn’t enough of a motivator for you, then you’re failing as an ally. Furthermore, claiming to be an ally (and even doing some ally-like things) isn’t a shield from criticism, and it doesn’t absolve you of the fuck-ups you make when interacting with trans people or give you license to act like an asshole. If you do something shitty, you should still expect to get called out. You should not, under any circumstances, accuse trans people of “alienating allies” if they get upset with you over your screw-ups.”

This is not a startup story (Emily Gould, Fast Company, 10 out. 2014): sobre Emily Books, sucesso e negócios na internet.
“Startup stories usually begin in a garage and end in huge payouts, with funding round deals sprinkled throughout. Startup stories have clear lessons, firm distinctions between success and failure. This is not a startup story. As we make the decision about our company’s future, I’ve begun to look back on what we’ve learned, and what we’re still trying to figure out.”

MR Roundtable: Should blogs moderate comments? (Leandra Medine, Stella Bugbee, Amelia Diamond and Kate Barnett, Man Repeller, 9 jan. 2015): discussão relevante para todos que têm blogs/sites/produzem conteúdo online.
“Any time you’re getting a ton of reader engagement at a higher level, it’s great. We have a funny relationship with our commenters. There are some of them who are really hardcore and they come back all the time. We talk to them and we know that certain commenters are going to comment on certain stories directly to us in the same way over and over. But I don’t think that online (in general) commenters should have a right to say whatever they want. You should conduct yourself with all of the basic decency that you would in person.”

In an unequal world, mocking all serves the powerful (Saladin Ahmed, The New York Times, 11 jan. 2015): sobre o perigo do “equal-opportunity offender”.
“The question for writers and artists, then, is not whether we ought to limit ourselves, but how we already limit ourselves. In a field dominated by privileged voices, it’s not enough to say “Mock everyone!” In an unequal world, satire that mocks everyone equally ends up serving the powerful. And in the context of brutal inequality, it is worth at least asking what preexisting injuries we are adding our insults to.”

Why the McKanye feud is bad for everyone (Craig Jenkins, Vulture, 9 jan. 2015): sobre o ridículo do backlash da colaboração West/McCartney.
“”And the assumption that pillars of middle-aged Caucasian culture are pillars of all the nation’s culture is rooted in dismissive arrogance. Failure to comprehend the existence of an American experience that doesn’t involve the Beatles almost validates the anti-McCartney pushback as a critique of an exclusionary culture. Is it really that weird for younger Kanye fans to be unfamiliar with a man whose band broke up 45 years ago? (…) It’s funny: West spent the better part of a calendar year threatening to gate-crash high society with his last album, 2013’s Yeezus. With “Only One,” the coup has arrived, and it’s surprisingly pretty. Can we at least agree on that?””

Adrian Petersen and what our fathers did to us: we have not turned out just fine (Jeb Lund, The Guardian, 17 set. 2014): sobre violência doméstica e disciplina por violência física.
“Or you find yourself at a college football party last weekend, and Adrian Peterson comes up, and a woman from out of town asks, “Do people in the south really do that still? How does it stop?” And a dude in his early thirties who looks like a 6ft-3in brick wall says, “Everyone on my block did that. It stops as soon as they realize you might be able to beat their ass just as good.” And without thinking about it, you kill the party for the next two minutes by saying, “It’s not just the south. I grew up in San Francisco. Sometimes nobody winds up bigger or stronger. Sometimes it stops because you move out. Or because you realize that if both of you don’t grow up, one of you is going to die.””

The subtle art of not giving a fuck (Mark Manson, 8 jan. 2015): motivacional bem-humorado com a maior concentração da palavra “fuck” que eu já li.
“In life, our fucks must be spent on something. There really is no such thing as not giving a fuck. The question is simply how we each choose to allot our fucks. You only get a limited amount of fucks to give over your lifetime, so you must spend them with care. As my father used to say, “Fucks don’t grow on trees, Mark.” OK, he never actually said that. But fuck it, pretend like he did. The point is that fucks have to be earned and then invested wisely. Fucks are cultivated like a beautiful fucking garden, where if you fuck shit up and the fucks get fucked, then you’ve fucking fucked your fucks all the fuck up.”

The genius of Taylor Swift’s girlfriend collection (Anne Helen Petersen, Buzzfeed, 7 jan. 2015): sobre performatividade em mídias sociais, Taylor Swift e construção de persona.
“Certainly she hasn’t made friendship uncool. It’s simply that the friends Swift chooses to present to the world serve to support crucial, carefully crafted components of Swift’s image. She isn’t coldhearted or utilitarian in her friendship so much as savvy to the ways in which the production of celebrity is, at its heart, utilitarian — and it takes a lot of labor to make something as manufactured as a celebrity image look as natural as Taylor Swift and Lorde on a beach, just being the wacky and carefree young women that they are.”

Rebel Girls: waiter, there’s some theory in my gender (Carmen Rios, Autostraddle, 7 jan. 2015): uma boa introdução aos estudos de gênero.
“Gender is one of the first things I studied in women’s studies that really opened my eyes to how we’re socialized, as people, to become cogs in the big machine that is our society. Once you realize the truth about gender, you start to see the truth in a lot of other things. (Coincidentally, a lot of other things are related to the concept of gender, like, ummm, patriarchy, heterosexism, and misogyny.) And the truth about gender is that it’s pretty much a fairytale our culture has made up over time in order to sleep well at night thinking it understands the world.”

Lessons of mortality and immortality from my father, Carl Sagan (Sasha Sagan, The Cut, 15 abr. 2014): sobre aprender que “we are star stuff” desde criança.
““You are alive right this second. That is an amazing thing,” they told me. When you consider the nearly infinite number of forks in the road that lead to any single person being born, they said, you must be grateful that you’re you at this very second. Think of the enormous number of potential alternate universes where, for example, your great-great-grandparents never meet and you never come to be. Moreover, you have the pleasure of living on a planet where you have evolved to breathe the air, drink the water, and love the warmth of the closest star. You’re connected to the generations through DNA — and, even farther back, to the universe, because every cell in your body was cooked in the hearts of stars. We are star stuff, my dad famously said, and he made me feel that way.”

On turning 30 (Molly Crabapple, Vice, 27 jan. 2014): sobre crescer e envelhecer como mulher.
“Innocence is not doing. Not running off to New York. Not drinking whiskey till 4 AM. Not fucking that boy or girl because they make your heart scream electric, then waking up unpunished the next day. Not hacking a system rigged against you. Innocence is a relic of a time when women had the same legal status as children. Innocence is beneficial to your owner. It benefits you not at all.”

True confessions of a former “cool girl” (Abby Rosmarin, Hello Giggles, 4 nov. 2014): sobre cool girls.
“The frightening part was that, the older I got, the more I started to wake up to my Cool Girl shtick, and the more I feared deviating from it. At that point, I had seen guys in my life conveniently leave just as cracks started to appear in my veneer and genuine emotion had shined through. Never mind the fact that these guys were already treating me terribly, even while I was pretending to be totally low-maintenance. Rather than focusing on how I deserved to be treated, I’d focus on how I ruined everything by being so uncool and everything I had to do to avoid falling into the same uncool traps with the next guy.”

“In which we can feel the horses long before horses enter the scene”: Girl geniuses (Ann Friedman, This recording, 14 mar. 2011): sobre Patti Smith e mulheres artistas.
“Women’s support for other women doesn’t typically come with baggage of this size and shape. This is why it’s important for us to believe in each other – I mean, really believe in each other. To tell each other to stop punishing ourselves when, after years of pursuing our passion but still calling it a hobby, we remain unconvinced of our own power and ability.”

Raisin, my four-year-old role model (Scaachi Koul, The Hairpin, 2 jan. 2015): sobre famílias, poder e a surpreendente autoconfiança das crianças.
“I’m an adult. People keep telling me I’m an adult. I always figured that with adulthood came the ability to stand up to your parents, but I still haven’t been able to calibrate this. I’m home for the holidays right now, engaging in another Cold War with my dad. He started giving me the silent treatment 42 hours into my trip. I’m still not sure why, but instead of shrugging him off, I’m furious that he manages to wield unfair control over my emotions.”

Caitlin (Caitlin Stasey, Herself., 4 jan. 2015): parte do lindo projeto Herself., da atriz/artistsa Caitlin Stasey, com entrevistas com mulheres acompanhadas por fotos nuas livres do male gaze.
“When did you become aware of your gender?
It was always thrust upon me. I never had an awakening, it was just understood that I was born cisgendered so there was never any turmoil over my sexuality or upset. I was given gender-neutral toys but for the most part I opted for barbies, toy kitchens, lovely little dresses; the only truly non-gendered items I loved were art supplies (although the reason I became interested in art was because it was the only way I could access images of naked women without question!). I was a HUGE girly girl save for my Blundstone boots. I was always wearing a tutu & these heavy duty workman’s boots. The simple reason being that I did NOT care for shoelace tying and my Blundstones were incredibly comfy. I’ve worn them consistently all my life.”

Pretty Little Liars Episode 514 recap: The Long Goodbye (Heather Hogan, Autostraddle, 8 jan. 2015): sim, incluí um recap do episódio 5×14 de Pretty Little Liars, porque a Heather Hogan sempre captura a força emocional da série como ninguém, e eu prossigo na minha missão de vida de convencer todo mundo a ver esse programa maravilhoso.
“But she did come out. And she let herself be around (and under and on top of and all over) Emily. And she left, on her own terms, to swim again, on a scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. The message the world projects at us from every platform at all times always is that nothing we do as women matters, because we will always be victims, because someone else will always being making our decisions for us. That is the theme Pretty Little Liars explores more than anything, and that is the game Paige McCullers won. She fought the monster that made her a monster, and she, alone, decided to stop punching at the echos and screaming at the wind.”

Self-care and survival: an interview with Janet Mock (Fariha Roisin, The Hairpin, 13 jan. 2015): sobre self-care, amor próprio e conexões.
“I think self-care is something deliberate, something that I do to take care of myself in a world that tells me I shouldn’t necessarily exist. That my body and my identity don’t necessarily matter—especially in systems that weren’t built for me to really thrive. We can say that the ways in which we survive are ways in which we take care of ourselves—but I don’t really think that’s care—that’s us trying to survive in systems that weren’t built for us.”

LINKS: VÍDEO & ÁUDIO

Why take Taylor Swift seriously (Stuff Mom Never Told You, 5 jan. 2015): sobre como a Taylor Swift é maravilhosa (não sei se vocês já reparam, mas ela é meu novo role model).

If you don’t have anything nice to say, SAY IT IN ALL CAPS (This American Life, 23 jan. 2015): sobre trolls na internet, com um primeiro ato muito emocionante da Lindy West.

Link roundup: edição 2014

Na tentativa de preparar um post de year in review, fui ver meus posts no Facebook desde janeiro. Descobri então que, mesmo em momentos em que minha vida não estava tão animada (ou quando eu só não estava falando dela tanto nas redes sociais), eu sempre posto muitos links interessantes, que eu gosto que outras pessoas leiam. Por isso, essa lista enorme (são mais de 200) de links que vem a seguir, com textos que li ao longo do ano.

Agora que 2015 começou, uma das minhas resoluções é postar coisas aqui com regularidade. Escrevi aqui, bati na madeira para não jinx, mas espero pelo menos poder fazer link roundups mais curtos e frequentes.

Kids won’t listen (Hazel Cills, Rookie, 6 jan. 2014): sobre o desprezo por garotas adolescentes.
“When you applaud or critique a young girl’s taste based on how well or badly it aligns with yours, you are suggesting that your taste = THE RIGHT TASTE, because you are the one IN THE KNOW. I sometimes rate movies on the website Mubi, and I can’t count the number of times an older male cinephile has urged me to rewatch a film I’ve given a low score to, because obviously I “didn’t understand it” the first time around. “How do you even know about this?” they sometimes ask. “You weren’t even born when this movie came out.” Dude: I have the internet.”

Creepypasta is how the internet knows our fears (Will Wiles, Aeon, 20 dez. 2013): quais são as origens culturais da creepypasta, e o que ela representa?
“Effective horror, after all, has little or nothing to do with gore or body-counts. ‘Atmosphere is the all-important thing,’ wrote Lovecraft, ‘for the final criterion of authenticity is not the dovetailing of a plot but the creation of a given sensation.’ This is the only test of weird fiction that matters: can the work excite, at its least mundane point, a particular emotional response, ‘a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers’? Creepypasta represents a kind of industrialised refinement of this art. It is a networked effort to deliver dread in as efficient a way as possible, with the minimum of extraneous matter. Like pornography, it is single-minded in its pursuit of a particular response.”

When the life you choose is a life less ordinary (Karley Sciortino, Vogue, 20 dez. 2013): sobre escolher um estilo de vida que não necessariamente se adequa às expectativas da sociedade, da família, dos amigos.
“But the truth is that my alternative life choices still upset my parents. And that still upsets me. I can’t share my successes with my dad, who sees only shame in writing about sex and sexuality. My brother gets to bring his girlfriend to Christmas, but I can’t bring mine, because that would destroy everyone’s delusion that she doesn’t exist. I spend so much time feeling anxious and insecure, with no way to gauge whether the work I am doing will result in any lucrative or emotional gain later in life. Going your own way, I was finding, can be rewarding, but also incredibly disorienting.”

Spring Break: a fever dream (James Franco, Vice, 1 nov. 2013): sobre a maravilha que é Spring Breakers, pelo próprio james franco.
“Some motherfuckers say they are depressed by the film because of the way it depicts our times, these be the motherfuckers who have a stake in representing our times to ourselves, those other motherfuckers in the entertainment business who want to present the clean polished, heteronormative, nerds, jocks, and white-dudes-win kind of lifestyle. Well, here is the film that shows the white dudes, the privileged dudes, using black culture, YouTube culture, any culture that fits their needs to entertain themselves, to turn themselves into stars in their own minds and the minds of those around them. This is reality; this is Instagram.”

Killing yourself to live (Lola Pellegrino, Rookie, 22 jan. 2014): sobre os impulsos autodestrutivos da adolescência, e como crescemos com eles.
“JD: You know, rage is not an issue for me. I became a lot more–
MM: You turned it in on yourself?
JD: Yeah.
MM: It’s all going in. “I’m going to beat me up.”
JD: Became a self-mutilator, became a big drug addict…
MM: “You’re not going to kick my ass, ’cause I am!”
JD: I’m better at it! “You’ll beat me, but you won’t get out knives.”

O fantasma do amor romântico nas relações livres (Loucas Lolli, Amores Livres, 21 dez. 2013): sobre relações livres, imposição de definições e as múltiplas formas de amar.
“Por que almas gêmeas (trigêmeas, quadrigêmas etc) têm que ser sempre pessoas que fazem sexo? Por que, quando estou doente, triste, sem grana ou com algum outro problema, quem tem que me ajudar é em primeiro lugar alguém com quem eu faço sexo? Por que só posso fazer cafuné, dormir de conchinha, ir pro baile, viajar, tomar sorvete, passear no parque, regularmente, ou primariamente, com alguém com quem eu faça sexo? Por que todas as minhas expectativas, anseios, frustrações, mágoas, sonhos e desejos precisam ser depositados em alguém com quem eu faça sexo? Por que, pra tudo na vida, esperamos uma resposta de alguém com quem fazemos sexo?”

Time to talk (Jenny P., fbomb, 15 abr. 2013): sobre relacionamentos abusivos, violência, e como é difícil ir embora.
“When you convince yourself that you’re in love, you’ll do anything to keep that feeling alive. You might convince yourself that crying in anticipation of, during, and after sex is normal. You might think it’s okay for your partner to say demeaning things about you on a daily basis. This is the danger and the power of an intimate partner in a violent relationship. We dated for two years.”

Trust no one (or, Everything I know about love I learned from The X Files) (Rachel, Autostraddle, 27 jan. 2014): sobre fé, ficção, sexualidade, o desconhecido e o amor.
“The other reason “Quagmire” is important is — spoiler alert, I guess — that for once, Scully is right. “Big Blue” isn’t a plesiosaur or an unheard-of monster; it’s just a giant alligator. There’s no X-File here. But in the course of their investigation, in addition to several humans, the giant alligator manages to eat Scully’s beloved Pomeranian. There are a lot of things we’re meant to take away from that episode, I think — something about the dangers of having a crusade, the importance of having good friends, an exploration of speaking difficult truths to people we love. But I think there’s a harsher and less obvious truth: just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it doesn’t have sharp teeth; deciding you don’t think it’s real doesn’t take away its power to destroy.”

Where you don’t feel like a visitor: Girls and women bedrooms (Laura Jayne Martin, The Toast, 27 jan. 2014): sobre a produção feita por garotas em seus próprios quartos, com depoimentos de Kathleen Hanna, Tavi Gevinson, Emily Niland, Jamie Bressler, Kacie Laguire, Stefanie Sakata, Jenny Mcclary, Allie Leepson e Sarah Stenseng.
“It makes people (especially grown men) uncomfortable to put this together because people (especially grown men) know that this is also where you get dressed and undressed, maybe have sexual encounters (alone or otherwise), etc. Sometimes that even leads to invalidation of artwork made by a teenager or girl or both because there’s that whole kneejerk opposition to anything by women that feels too ‘confessional’ or ‘personal,’ and the insistence that anything you made as a teen holds no lasting truth and is just embarrassing bad Nirvana/Plath knock-off stuff and let’s all be embarrassed by our former selves because we’re much cooler now, and also because grown men are generally scared of teenage girls.

Fifty shades of Greyhound (Harrison Scott Key, Oxford American, 27 mai. 2013): sobre estradas, ônibus e ser um nômade desconhecido.
“My previous life as a homeowner and member of many benevolent societies had grown dim. Who was that man? He smelled of luxurious soaps and lotions. What relation was he to this old, stooped pilgrim, whose coy limbic system now believed it was operating inside a homeless man? I walked away from the terminal, over a hill, where I noted many fine eating establishments. Were they real? Dare I risk missing my connection for the procuring of their meats? Onward I walked, pausing at a gas station to purchase cigarettes, for I no longer feared death.”

The fangirl business, pt. 1 (Rachel Gueiros, Please Disturb, 28 fev. 2014): sobre fãs, garotas adolescentes e amar incondicionalmente.
“Ser mulher e ser passional por alguma coisa já é uma história completamente diferente, até porque ser mulher e ser passional é sinônimo de ser histérica. Se você é passional sobre o seu trabalho, deve ser fria e mal amada, egoísta por não ter se dedicado a sua família (e não levada a sério caso você não queira uma), além de provavelmente também não ter seu sucesso respeitado. Se é passional por uma banda, um diretor, um artista, você é uma tiete, e se é passional por algo que, na mente estreita da sociedade, pertence ao ‘universo masculino’ você só quer chamar atenção dos ômi, e não tem nenhum interesse real naquilo.”

Jennifer Lawrence and the history of cool girls (Anne Helen Petersen, Buzzfeed, 28 fev. 2014): sobre Jennifer Lawrence, Clara Bow, Carole Lombard, Clark Gable, Jane Fonda, a imagem da cool girl e celebridades através das décadas.
“Cool Girls don’t have the hang-ups of normal girls: They don’t get bogged down by the patriarchy, or worrying about their weight. They’re basically dudes masquerading in beautiful women’s bodies, reaping the privileges of both. But let’s be clear: It’s a performance. It might not be a conscious one, but it’s the way our society implicitly instructs young women on how to be awesome: Be chill and don’t be a downer, act like a dude but look like a supermodel.”

A world in which it is impossible to sleep (Elizabeth Bachner, Bookslut, Nov. 2012): sobre insônia, leituras, descanso e viagens.
“I’m thinking about insomnia and books, how books give us a system and a story, a system like nature, a story like history — or like nature would be if there was only one coolheaded, lonely reality, like history would be if things were as they seem. I’m scrambling around to find the right book to take up into the mountains, when probably up there I won’t need any books, I’ll be hotheaded, peaceful, not lonely, listening to Shiva’s lullaby where it’s quiet (other than birdsong and roosters) enough to hear it. I’m terrified of heights and all I want is to be in mountains. Books give us a system and a story, or they take away our systems and our stories. They conceal and reveal. In the mountains the only time I got sad was when I realized that my protagonist never gets there, and now I’m sadder for her still — as a physical object, I can’t be in two places at the same time, but since she’s not a physical object, she could be everywhere, if she wanted to.”

Peculiar benefits (Roxane Gay, The Rumpus, 16 mai. 2012): sobre privilégios e responsabilidades.
“We tend to believe that accusations of privilege imply we have it easy and because life is hard for nearly everyone, we resent hearing that. Of course we do. Look at white men when they are accused of having privilege. They tend to be immediately defensive (and, at times, understandably so). They say, “It’s not my fault I am a white man.” They say, “I’m working class,” or “I’m [insert other condition that discounts their privilege],” instead of simply accepting that, in this regard, yes, they benefit from certain privileges others do not. To have privilege in one or more areas does not mean you are wholly privileged. To acknowledge privilege is not a denial of the ways you are marginalized, the ways you have suffered. Surrendering to the acceptance of privilege is difficult but it is really all that is expected.”

Where do books go after they end? (Molly McArdle, The Toast, 10 fev. 2014): sobre Harry Potter, términos e finais imaginários.
“Where do books go after they end? Are characters frozen in stasis the moment the final punctuation mark falls? Does Ishmael drift forever on board the Rachel in the middle of the expansive sea? Does Milkman hang suspended in midair, eternally mid-leap? Will Susan Pevensie never hear of the tragic train accident that took her siblings and parents? For the purpose of the book, I think, the answer is yes, but readers hunger for conclusion and will, without compunction, snap off a frame and paint beyond a story’s initial boundaries. Really the only ending that will satisfy us is death: Cervantes had to kill Don Quixote precisely so no more fan fiction (well, fake sequels) could be written about him. I imagine the epilogue to Harry Potter, as it stands, to be some readers’ perfect vision of the future, but for me it is not nearly messy enough, grand enough, quiet enough. Harry has never, ever been normal—why would he start being so now? But this is my story: you get to imagine your own.”

A year after the non-apocalypse: where are they now? (Tom Bartlett, Religion Dispatches, 21 mai. 2012): sobre aqueles que esperavam o fim do mundo, e o que eles fizeram quando ele não chegou.
“But I wanted to know what happens next. If you’re absolutely sure the world is going to end on a specific day, and it doesn’t, what do you do? How do you explain it to yourself? What happens to your faith in God? Can you just scrape the bumper stickers off your car, throw away the t-shirts, and move on? (…) I learned a lot about the seductive power of radical belief, the inscrutable vagaries of biblical interpretation, and how our minds can shape reality to fit a narrative. I also learned that you don’t have to be nuts to believe something crazy.”

In the name of love (Miya Tokumitsu, Slate, 16 jan. 2014): sobre a armadilha do “fazer o que ama” e os privilégios envolvidos em escolher trabalho por amor.
“DWYL is a secret handshake of the privileged and a worldview that disguises its elitism as noble self-betterment. According to this way of thinking, labor is not something one does for compensation but is an act of love. If profit doesn’t happen to follow, presumably it is because the worker’s passion and determination were insufficient. Its real achievement is making workers believe their labor serves the self and not the marketplace.”

My “diet caffeine-free rape” (Elissa Bassist, The Cut, 5 set. 2012): sobre estupros reais vs. imagens tradicionais do que é um estupro.
“The classmate who brainstormed the phrase “Diet Rape” wrote a note in black ink on his critique: “‘Rape’ hints @ a criminal act. Was this criminal?” Do I have to check a box? When I explained to a friend what happened with my first boyfriend, I added the caveat: “I mean, it wasn’t like back-alley rape.” Her response: “Yeah, I was not-back-alley raped too.” This was not an isolated, personal problem.”

Queer writing and the strictures of identity politics (Marcie Bianco, Lambda Literary, 4 fev. 2014): sobre identidade na escrita, e o que torna um texto queer, com depoimentos de Anne-e Wood, Miguel Morales, Phill Branch, Darnell L. Moore, Malinda Lo, Sassafras Lowrey, Michelle Tea, Stephanie Schroeder.
“All artists encounter constricting forces that police or delimit the breadth of our creativity. What I have been interested in thinking about, however, is the extent to which writers consciously inhabit a specific identity position when writing. I asked a number of friends, colleagues, and writers I admire a few questions about the nature of queer writing: What makes writing “queer”? Is there a precise aesthetics or style to it? Can queer writing exist outside identity politics? Do literary endeavors suffer from identity politics? Or, what happens when style and craft are both compromised by the focus on queerness/queer identity?”

A linguist explains the grammar of Doge. Wow. (Gretchen McCulloch, The Toast, 6 fev. 2014): um detalhado estudo linguístico do meme doge.
“In this sense, doge really is the next generation of LOLcat, in terms of a pet-based snapshot of a certain era in internet language. We’ve kept the idea that animals speak like an exaggerated version of an internet-savvy human, but as our definitions of what it means to be a human on the internet have changed, so too have the voices that we give our animals. Wow.”

Darling, it’s time to own it (Justine Musk, 2 jan. 2014): sobre poder, vulnerabilidade e encontrar sua voz.
“Girls learn to suppress their natural voice around the age of 12, when they start to learn what it takes to be a lady. Presented with the choice between power and warmth, they choose warmth. Because saying what they really think and knowing what they really know can lead to hurt feelings, disruption and conflict, they learn to discount the inner voice. They listen to other people instead. They disown their masculine side, since be a lady is also code for don’t be threatening or intimidating, and knowledge and power (since knowledge is power) are both.”

The Amazon women: is there any truth behind the myth? (Amanda Foreman, Smithsonian Magazine, Abr. 2014): sobre as amazonas, história, poder feminino e a Mulher Maravilha.
“The creators of Wonder Woman had no interest in proving an actual link to the past. In some parts of the academic world, however, the historical existence of the Amazons, or any matriarchal society, has long been a raging issue. The origins of the debate can be traced back to a Swiss law professor and classical scholar named Johann Jakob Bachofen. In 1861 Bachofen published his radical thesis that the Amazons were not a myth but a fact. In his view, humanity started out under the rule of womankind and only switched to patriarchy at the dawn of civilization. Despite his admiration for the earth-mother women/priestesses who once held sway, Bachofen believed that the domination of men was a necessary step toward progress. Women “only know of the physical life”, he wrote. “The triumph of patriarchy brings with it the liberation of the spirit from the manifestations of nature.””

Talking to Anne Helen Petersen about leaving academia for Buzzfeed (Jia Tolentino, The Hairpin, 21 mar. 2014): entrevista com Anne Helen Petersen sobre o mundo acadêmico, celebridades, Buzzfeed e as possibilidades da internet.
“Oh man, this is a sensitive subject, and I might burn some bridges with it, but here goes: much of academic writing prides itself on being as inaccessible as possible, and I mean that both literally and figuratively—you can’t understand it unless you’ve had at least five years of graduate school, and you can’t actually get your hands on it without affiliation with a major institution. But I come from what’s called the cultural studies tradition, which prides itself on studying the things that vast swathes of people actually consume, and how they make meaning out of that consumption. So there will always be people who study Iranian cinema from the ‘70s, and that work is really important, but it’s equally important to study things like soap operas, and Two and a Half Men, and celebrity gossip, and try and figure out how/why these things matter.”

Why is the Mor in Voldemort (and Mordor and Dr. Moreau) so evil-sounding? (James Harbeck, Slate, 21 mar. 2014): sobre linguística, maldade e nomes literários.
“In fact, “mor” may be what is sometimes called a phonestheme: a part of a word that tends to carry a certain connotation not because of etymology or formal definition but just by association. Words that start with “gl” often have to do with light (glow, gleam, glimmer, glitter, glisten, etc.) even though they are not all related historically; similarly, words that start with “sn” often relate to the nose (snoot, sniffle, snot, snore, sneeze, etc.). It doesn’t mean that all words with those letters have the meaning in common, but there is a common thread among a notable set of them.”

Rose McGowan and Darren Stein on Jawbreaker (Trey Taylor, Dazed, Abr. 2014): uma história oral de Jawbreaker.
“DD: So she’s a bit delusional?
Rose McGowan: I think she’s a bit sociopathic, but in the best way. She’s a young, budding sociopath.
Darren Stein: Her reality is the only reality.
Rose McGowan: Exactly.
Darren Stein: For her, for her.
Rose McGowan: Which sounds like my life.”

I made the mistake of starting a small press and so can you (Spencer Madsen, The Toast, 12 mar. 2014): sobre o mundo editorial, pequenas editoras e o amor por livros.
“Hate writers, hate books, hate publishing. Get mad when you see awful covers on great books, get frustrated when great presses have incomprehensible websites, cringe when a book is blurbed to be a “tour-de-force,” or another famous author makes an awkward stab at social media. Unfollow any writer who brags about their manuscript or penchant for whiskey. Feel bad for feeling superior. Remember it’s about doing. Feel excited.”

“Sexo é estratégia política” (Isadora Otoni, Revista Fórum, 14 mar. 2014): entrevista com Gabriela Masson/Lovelove6 sobre feminismo, sexo e seu trabalho com Garota Siririca.
“Não, acho que não tem essa de puramente pornográfico ou puramente erótico. Você está sempre veiculando alguma ideia. E essas ideias de sexo são especificamente machistas, ou feministas. Porque em revista de mulher pelada as “minas” estão lá todas magras e depiladas. Os caras estão cheios de Photoshop. Tem esse lance de transformar completamente o corpo da mulher. E então os caras estão achando que na cama vão encontrar isso, e vão agir que nem o cara que eles viram no vídeo. E as meninas vão se sentir um lixo na hora que tirarem a roupa, porque elas não são essa mulher da capa. Acho tudo muito prejudicial, mas não pela coisa em si, acho que é prejudicial pela falta de informação, pela formação política a que as pessoas não têm acesso. Esse lance de não associar pornografia com política não existe. Está extremamente associado, até porque é pelo sexo que as mulheres são dominadas. Essa é a grande desculpa para a gente ser dominada. Através do casamento, através do estupro. Sexo é uma estratégia política. A maneira como você pratica ele é uma estratégia.”

Creativity and madness: on writing through the drugs (Gila Lyons, The Millions, 27 fev. 2014): sobre depressão, medicação e criatividade.
“I wouldn’t trade the happiness, the sense of balance, the self-reliance, or the improved relationships I’ve gained from medicine for writing. And perhaps I don’t have to decide between mental health and creativity. It seems that, whether mad or not, people are driven to create in order to understand something about themselves, the world, or their experiences and perceptions. Perhaps Freud was as wrong about art necessarily stemming from neurosis as he was about penis envy. I agree that powerful art is created out of a deep need, and bears the imprint of the essential raw self or soul. But if my anxiety really is a biological disorder, as doctors and psychologists have repeatedly insisted, then my essential self isn’t the anxious thoughts and existential dread I used to constantly feel. My essential self would lie underneath the layers of catastrophic images and anguished mental chatter. It’s possible that the medicines I take could help me travel a clearer and more direct path to that place, avoiding the potholes and back alleys of phobias, anxiety, and panic. Though it takes more discipline to sit down and write now, since I am not doing so to save my life, I am practicing writing from a place of curiosity rather than pain, fascination rather than desperation, forging my way more safely into a different dark.”

Mils and miles of no-man’s land (Libba Bray, 2 mar. 2014): sobre depressão, seus estágios e seu estigma.
“If depression were as physically evident as, say, a broken limb or cancer, it would be easier to talk about. The pain could be marked, quantified, obvious to the observer. You would feel justified in saying, “I’m sorry that I haven’t returned your email but you can see the huge hole in the center of me, and I’m afraid it has made such dialogue impossible.” But the stigma of depression is that it comes with the sense that you shouldn’t have it to begin with. That it is self-indulgence or emotional incompetence rather than actual illness. This brings on attendant feelings of shame and self-loathing, which only exacerbate the pain, isolation, and hopelessness of the condition. “I cannot share this,” the depressed person thinks. “It is too embarrassing, too shameful.” And so, you swallow it down, until it feels that your heart is a trapped bird beating frantic wings against the pain you’ve shoved up against it. Depression isn’t like being sad or blue or wistful. It is crippling. It is a constant whine in your head, making it hard to hear yourself think.”

Spring Breakers is a metaphor for the corruption and breakdown on Britney Spears (Abbey Stone, Hollywood, 18 mar. 2013): sobre Spring Breakers, Britney Spears, e como a internet se presta a teorias mirabolantes.
“”Spring break forever,” Alien croons repeatedly. But of course, spring break — like fame, success, and all good things — must come to an end. And when it does, what will remain? “

National Poetry Month: Sonya Renee isn’t sorry (Audrey White, Autostraddle, 28 abr. 2014): sobre poesia, identidade, corpos e aceitação.
“We live in a world that’s constantly telling us we’re not ok – we’re not ok so we can’t get married because we’re gay, we’re not ok so we’re subject to violence because we’re trans, we’re not ok because of our race so we have massive immigration injustice. It’s a radical choice to love ourselves in the face of body terrorism, a constant attack against our bodies and the ways they show up in the world. It’s radical to choose to love ourselves in spite of that, and I think the world is hungry for that message.”

On “Dawson”, on “Dexter”, on “Damages”: the artists and art of TV shows (Johannah King-Slutzky, The Awl, 11 fev. 2014): sobre as origens das obras de arte que aparecem na televisão.
“Good narrative must show, not tell, but without an organization like the Public Art Fund or HBO’s coffers, you can only finance so much. I suspect this, and not anti-art sentiment, is why TV’s artists and critics are such windbags: their task is to reveal what the art cannot. In this system, the badness of art and artist is tautological. TV shows buy generic prop art because they couldn’t possibly get the good stuff; then, the burden of exegesis falls onto the artist. But because his or her work is plainly boring, script writers have to make the artist into a self-important lunatic in order to caulk the cognitive dissonance. This only amplifies the boring art/windbag artist trope for future TV shows.”

Schecter 3:16 (or How Jenny Schecter saved my life) (Heather Hogan, Autostraddle, 20 jan. 2014): sobre depressão, recuperação e The L Word.
“I was angry. Really fucking angry. Angry because Jenny Schecter was right. Angry because Jenny Schecter had endured so much hate and criticism over the years that had never been leveled at male archetypes who behaved like she did. Angry that I’d been so brainwashed when I first watched the show that I hurled horrible sexist/patriarchal insults at her too. (Some insults she deserved [see: Sounder] but most she did not.) Because of the way Mia Kirshner refused to cloak Jenny in anything other than the rawest emotions, she became real to me in ways none of my go-to happytimes characters ever could have. I didn’t have anything in common with her, really. But I felt connected to her because I was rooted in that expanse of ancient sadness she also seemed to occupy.”

Who were the first teenagers? (Hunter Oatman-Stanford, Collectors Weekly, 20 mar. 2014): sobre Teenage e a história da adolescência.
“Adults know they have to actively lift themselves out of the present to create some sort of better future. Their aspirations are more tangible and reality-based. Teenagers don’t have that freedom—they can’t make their own decisions in the most basic sense. Whether they’re truly oppressed politically or whether they just feel emotionally oppressed by the circumstances of living at home, until they’re free, they’re not going to feel like they have the ability to shape their own lives. That sense of possibility and active imagination about the future is much more vital when you’re young.”

Kurt and Courtney sitting in a tree (Christina Kelly, Sassy, Abr. 1992): Kurt e Courtney sobre amor, fama, Nirvana e Hole ainda no começo da década de 90.
“Before you knew it, they were boyfriend and girlfriend. And now they’re planning to get married as soon as possible (maybe by the time you read this), both wearing dresses. Kurt likes wearing dresses because they are comfortable and he says he looks best in baby-dolls with flowers on them. “In the last couple months,” says Kurt, “I’ve gotten engaged and my attitude has changed drastically, and I can’t believe how much happier I am. At times I even forget that I’m in a band, I’m so blinded by love. I know that sounds embarrassing, but it’s true. I could give up the band right now. It doesn’t matter, but I’m under contract.” What a wonderfully sweet thing to say. I can’t believe it when Courtney tells me that a friend of hers called her up in Europe and told her not to go out with Kurt: “She told me, ‘What you’re doing is culturally important and you’ll just get swallowed up by going out with Kurt.'””

Five years (Tavi Gevinson, The Style Rookie, 3 abr. 2013): sobre memória, imaginação, adolescência, nostalgia, e aqueles sentimentos de juventude que só a Tavi consegue capturar.
“Everything is now a matter of life and death. Math homework: NOT A PRIORITY WHEN THE END COULD BE RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER. Cleaning my room: IS THIS REALLY HOW I WANT TO SPEND MY LAST HOURS ON EARTH WHEN I COULD GET HIT BY A CAR TOMORROW? Etc. The habit that blog-keeping instilled in me of compulsively archiving every single thing only worsens. If I get behind in my journal, I spend hours wondering where to even start. I can’t pay attention in class, only make scattered notes where there should be a timeline of the Industrial Revolution, listing all the details I need to get down properly as soon as I have time: The music we listened to in Claire’s room, the old man I saw on my way to school, the view from my boyfriend’s car when we sat in a 7-Eleven parking lot watching people walk in and trying to predict their purchases, along with a record of what each person looked like and what they bought. My hands tremble, relaxing only once everything has been sufficiently documented, each memory in my grasp, as if by putting them down on paper, I can make them last forever.”

“Heathers”: an oral history (Adam Markovitz, Entertainment Weekly, 4 abr. 2014): uma história oral de Heathers.
“DANIEL WATERS (Writer): The teen films of the time, the John Hughes film, were fun. But there’s a whole other wing of the high school they weren’t going into — the dark, Stephen King wing that nobody wanted to look at. And I think Heathers was refreshing. It was the first time a lot of people lost their dark humor virginity. It’s hard to even remember now that going back then, there were so many television shows and documentaries about the horror of teen suicide that just made it so attractive to commit suicide because you got all this love and adulation. Who can resist! It seemed like I was the only one noticing the humor in it. The actual first line I wrote was, “You can’t use that knife, it’s filthy!” when [Veronica and J.D.] are going to stage Heather Duke’s suicide. It took off from that.”

Self-evidence with difficulty (George Quasha, Poetry Foundation, 9 abr. 2014): sobre poesia, leitores, simplicidade, dificuldade e linguagem.
“Not being who one thinks one is, is one of the great achievements of poetry. (It may be a first step beyond fixations of culture—literary dogma, ideology, cultural consumerism). I’ve come to consider that any language that can bring about that miracle might be a species of poetry. The logic of that thought leads to the view that poetry is undefinable if definition requires definite boundaries. One knows it in the moment and not a moment before. Even if it takes months or years to know it, it is known only in its moment. An acquired critical armamentarium may only render the matter (whatever poetic stuff is) less accessible for the (young, especially) poet. The risk of inculcating critical, or any, standards is that it may actually delay one’s being invented as reader of a given poetry, especially a challenging one.”

Dear queer diary: {!:,)?&;.; (Maggie, Autostraddle, 17 abr. 2014): sobre diários e o amor por pontuação.
“As much as my inner English teacher normally turns up her nose at the sight of a run-on sentence or improperly used semicolon, I consider my journal to be a judgment-free zone, a place where my schoolmarm alter ego loosens her tatted collar and sits back to enjoy a few glasses of sherry. The strict binary of proper/improper grammar can keep its prescriptive norms out of my queer diary.”

Knowing it vs. Feeling it (Gala Darling, 14 abr. 2014): sobre transtornos alimentares e a diferença de saber algo racionalmente e aceitar emocionalmente.
“Knowing something to be true intellectually is very different from knowing it in your heart and feeling it to be true. You might know that you should forgive yourself, learn to accept yourself, and love yourself, but until you feel it deep within, nothing will change.”

Interview & Shoot: Porn star Stoya shot by Tim Barber (Neil Gaiman, Oyster, 10 abr. 2014): Neil Gaiman entrevistando Stoya, need I say more?
“How does it feel that half of the people who follow you are not actually seeing the thing you do?
Well, I always think of it like… Hmmm. For instance, James Deen and I have been dating for quite some time and while I don’t find it weird at all to watch him in a sex scene, seeing him playing a sociopath in Canyons was straight-up traumatic for me. I feel like no matter how good an actor someone is, a part of what makes them good is making the role their own and so there are still parts of who they really are in their performance — like these weird little twitches or the inflection on a certain word. He did a really good job of acting like a super-creep, so were I not in a position where it was, like, we went to the premiere and it was heavily covered and there were all these writers sitting right next to us and there was nowhere to hide, I would have run from the theatre. I would have opted out of watching it because it was so uncomfortable. So, maybe it’s kind of like that.”

Deixando o X para trás na linguagem neutra de gênero (Juno, Batatinhas não-binárias, 1 nov. 2014): sobre pessoas não-binárias, linguagem neutra e alternativas linguísticas.
“Para aprender linguagem neutra e usá-la basta querer. Ela é útil por diversos motivos. Se você não gostaria de usá-la, você pode usar o X ou pode falar como preferir. A questão é que neste processo você estará decidindo se afastar de um determinado grupo de pessoas, e que estas pessoas estão extremamente isoladas devido à decisão constante da maioria de fazer isso. Através deste mecanismo não só as pessoas trans estão excluídas, no desemprego, nos modernos circos dos horrores da mídia de massa, mas todo o povo oprimido. Tem a ver com a forma como a cultura e a opressão exercida pelas elites se atravessa e molda nossa visão de mundo. Quanto mais solidariedade, maior será o poder do povo. Venha de onde vier.”

Angelina Jolie’s perfect game (Anne Helen Petersen, Buzzfeed, 29 mai. 2014): sobre Angelina Jolie, fama, e (re)construção de imagem.
“More specifically, Jolie’s image management played on anxieties and ideals specific to the mid-2000s: If Aniston was America’s sweetheart — the girl next door par excellence — then Jolie was the cosmopolitan, global citizen. If Aniston was cute and victimized, then Jolie was sexy, in control of her sexuality and the men around her — a vivid manifestation of postfeminism that projects both the success of feminism and its current irrelevance. If Aniston was reticent to juggle family and career, then Jolie wanted a sprawling international family, the marks of her globalism literally tattooed on her body in the form of the longitude and latitude of her children’s birthplaces.”

Has America progressed? (Kiese Laymon, ESPN, 7 jun. 2013): sobre esportes, preconceito e amor.
“How good are our favorite athletes at loving the other athletes in their locker rooms? How good are we at loving them? Is there a difference between loving someone and loving how someone makes you feel? How good are our favorite athletes at loving themselves? Is it hard to be good at giving and receiving love if you can’t be honest about with whom you’re having sex? Does having a lot of money make it harder to be good at giving and receiving love? Are any of our favorite athletes as good at loving as they are at their sport?”

Clueless’ big confidence sells its small stakes (Genevieve Koski, The Dissolve, 8 abr. 2014): sobre Clueless, autoconfiança e popularidade.
“It takes Cher Horowitz (Alicia Silverstone) most of Clueless’ 97-minute runtime to reach the conclusion most viewers arrive at sometime within the film’s first 60 seconds: She is just totally clueless. Even if the word itself didn’t pop up on the screen in big, neon-pink-on-green lettering in the opening credits, Cher’s voiceover assertion that she has a “way-normal life for a teenage girl,” juxtaposed against images of Beverly Hills excess—lavish pool parties, hot new cars, computerized outfit-coordination systems—quickly expose her as a hilariously unreliable narrator. And yet the utmost confidence of Cher’s proclamations on life, love, and fashion lend her a sort of blowhard authority, the kind commonly associated with politicians and lawyers—even if what she says isn’t accurate, it sounds like it is. Her knowledge of the world outside the glossy, mirrored walls of her sheltered life is paper-thin, but it doesn’t matter; she can talk the talk (the 15-year-old version of it, anyway), so she doesn’t need to know what she’s talking about, whether it’s the existential value of Ren & Stimpy, or the topics she’s called upon to discuss during first-period debate class.”

Teen Wolf’s Lydia, defying tropes of sex, smarts, and beauty in female characters (Katie Garren, The Mary Sue, 27 mai. 2014): sobre a subversão de expectativas para personagens femininas em Teen Wolf.
“Even Lydia’s own parents assume that she is fully committed to the trope of the ditzy teenage girl character. However, Lydia’s abilities, academically and socially, demonstrate that she is capable of so much more. This scene is a lovely bit of foreshadowing for what is to come in her character arc. Throughout the course of the show, Lydia can be seen, time and again, figuring out problems before anyone else. Her only rival is the character Stiles, who is intelligent but not as focused or socially adept as Lydia. What the revelation of Lydia’s true nature says to the audience, which is comprised predominantly of teenage girls, is that they don’t have to be defined by their intelligence, their popularity, or their beauty. They can use and embrace all three of these concepts. In this respect, Lydia is an incredible example of feminist ideals.”

[Eu tive o privilégio de crescer em uma casa cheia de livros] (C.M., Alpaca Editora, 27 mai. 2014): sobre escrita, leitura e gênero.
“Eu acredito na importância de deixar marcas, de evidenciar a existência das inúmeras literaturas e criações femininas e inúmeras formas de ser mulher. Acredito na necessidade de que haja espaço para que cada mulher que assim deseje possa se desmontar, se descosturar, se desmembrar até onde quiser. Acredito na necessidade de mais espaço para que cada pedacinho resultante dessas formas de desconstruções esteja disponível para outras mulheres, homens, não-homens-nem-mulheres, quem for. Que essas desconstruções construam novos espaços, ampliem diálogos, incluam algo mais do que o homem quando falamos de seres humanos.”

The perfect girl (Lexi Harder, Rookie, 16 nov. 2011): sobre as pressões colocadas sobre garotas adolescentes.
“What my point is: society sucks. It’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation. I’m not allowed to be fat, but I’m not allowed to go on a diet either (or keep a food diary, for that matter). I’m not allowed to be dumb, but I’m not allowed to be smarter than a boy. I’m not allowed to do drugs or drink, but I’m considered boring if I don’t. I’m supposed to be an empowered woman, but if I ask for respect dudes will just call me an annoying bitch. Heck, if I wait to have sex I’m labeled a prude, but if I lost my virginity today there would be a lot of people thinking that slut.”

Sympathetic characters: gender bias, villains & Orphan Black (Foz Meadows, The Mary Sue, 26 mai. 2014): sobre personagens gostáveis, gênero, vilãs vs. vilões e Orphan Black.
“But when it comes to women, a single selfish or not-nice act – a stolen kiss, a lie, a brushoff – is somehow enough to see them condemned as whores and bitches forever. We readily excuse our favourite male characters of murder, but if a woman politely turns down a date with someone she has no interest in, she’s a timewasting user bimbo and god, what does he even see in her? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen some great online meta about, for instance, the soulfulness and moral ambiguity of Black Widow, but I’ve also seen a metric fucktonne more about what that particular jaw-spasm means in that one GIF of Cumberbatch/Ackles/Hiddleston/Smith alone, and that’s before you get into the pages-long pieces about why Rumplestiltskin or Hook or Spike or Bucky Barnes or whoever is really just a tortured woobie who needs a hug. Hell, I’m guilty of writing some of that stuff myself, because see above: plus, it’s meaty and fun and exactly the kind of analysis I like to write.”

What does Miley Cyrus’s death has to do with James Franco? (Philippa Snow, Dazed, Jul. 2014): sobre rumores de morte de celebridades e a performance da fama.
“The internet users who circulate this tinfoil theorem have also dreamed up other, similarly lunatic Hollywood rumours (for instance: that Megan Fox has been swapped for a clone not once, but twice), but this one – like any other classic piece of Paul Is Dead-style conspiracy hokum – intrigues because it requires the reader to buy two suggestions as fact: 1, that the famous are almost totally interchangable, and furthermore, that we barely recognise them as individuals; and 2, that their lives are universally more desirable than our own, and that we – civilians – would change places with them in an instant if the chance were offered to us.”

Why I don’t want to write about the Santa Barbara shooting (Joanna Schroeder, The good men project, 24 mai. 2014): sobre o massacre em Santa Barbara, misoginia, violência e medo.
“No, I’m not shocked by the mass murder that happened last night in Santa Barbara. I’m horrified, distraught, devastated and depressed, but I’m not surprised. Why not? Because it’s something many of us who are aware of the anti-woman hatred of certain (scarily popular) online groups have felt building for years. It’s something many of us were afraid of since we were little kids, well before these online groups brought attention to it: The anger of a man rejected. The anger of a man who hates women.”

Laboring vs. Labor of love: on writing for views and validation: sobre a validação que se recebe online, estatísticas de leituras e visitas, e o ofício de escrever.
“I’ve written for page views. I’ve written for hearts and reblogs. And while they are two very different things – the page views were for money, for being published as a music writer and the hearts and reblogs were for personal content – they were really very much the same thing. They were all a form of validation that kept me from enjoying the craft of writing to its fullest.”

But what does “self-love” even mean? (Sarah Von Bargen, Yes and yes, 22 mai. 2014): sobre as possibilidades de cuidar de si própria.
“But that’s the important thing to realize about self-love and self-care – you’re the only one who gets to decide how you do it. If you don’t want to stick personal mantra post-its all over your bathroom mirror, you don’t have to. If green juice, setting intentions, gratitude journals, and weekly massages just aren’t your jam? That is totally, 100% okay.”

Trolls don’t just want to be rude – they want power over us (Amanda Levitt, Bitch, 21 mai. 2014): sobre trolls na internet, feminismo, fat-shaming e violência.
“The motivations behind this kind of behavior are bigger than just wanting to be anonymously nasty to someone. Feminists who seek to deconstruct dominant narratives about race, gender, class, body size and other forms of marginalization online are often subjected to calculated and destructive trolling campaigns that go far beyond individual attacks and instead seek to damage their work and lives.”

Zosia Mamet on why she won’t lean in, thanks (Zosia Mamet, Glamour, 15 mai. 2014): sobre os valores de poder e sucesso atribuídos às mulheres.
“We are so obsessed with “making it” these days we’ve lost sight of what it means to be successful on our own terms. As women we have internalized the idea that every morning we wake up, we have to go for the f–king gold. You can’t just jog; you have to run a triathlon. Having a cup of coffee, reading the paper, and heading to work isn’t enough—that’s settling, that’s giving in, that’s letting them win. You have to wake up, have a cup of coffee, conquer France, bake a perfect cake, take a boxing class, and figure out how you are going to get that corner office or become district supervisor, while also looking damn sexy—but not too sexy, because cleavage is degrading—all before lunchtime. Who in her right mind would want to do that? And who would even be able to?”

A censored history of ladies in YA fiction (Kelly Jensen, Book riot, 24 mar. 2014): sobre personagens e escritoras femininas em YA.
“Men write universal stories. Women write stories for girls. Men write Literature. Women write chick lit. Even in a world where women do publish in heavier numbers than men do, they are underscored, underseen, and undervalued. Twilight is and will remain a crucial part of YA’s history — YA’s female-driven history — despite or in spite of the fact it doesn’t garner the same praises that those held up as idols within the community do. Men like John Green become symbols of YA’s forward progress and Seriousness as a category, whereas Stephenie Meyer gets to be a punchline.”

It will look like a sunset (Kelly Sundberg, Guernica, 1 abr. 2014): a descrição mais sincera e devastadora de um relacionamento abusivo que já li.
“But I couldn’t stop the tape. I heard over and over:
You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt. You are a fucking cunt.
And then his voice became my voice:
I am a fucking cunt.”

A little history: LGBT representation in mainstream american comics, part 1 & part 2 (Alan Kistler, The Mary Sue, 15 & 16 mar. 2014): sobre personagens LGBT em quadrinhos, da golden age até hoje.
“Of course, there are folks who complain, as Rob Liefeld did, that you shouldn’t reimagine characters to be LGBT if they were not originally created to be so. But as Gail Simone pointed out in an interview with Wired, “[A]lmost all the tentpoles we build our industry upon were created over a half century ago… at a time where the characters were almost without exception white, cis-gendered, straight, on and on. It’s fine — it’s great that people love those characters. But if we only build around them, then we look like an episode of The Andy Griffith Show for all eternity.””

“Nobody’s really trying to get laid”: how John Hughes reinvented the teen comedy (Jennifer Castle, Salon, 7 mai. 2014): sobre a importância inovadora dos filmes de John Hughes, adolescência e Sixteen Candles.
“It’s all terrific. But that first moment…Your whole family forgets your sixteenth birthday? That is drama. That gets deep into the nooks and crannies of every shitty thing you’ve ever felt about your life. The brilliance of John Hughes was that he understood this. He got that the seemingly “small” everyday problems of American teenagers are, in fact, compelling enough to frame an entire film’s story. These problems are actually very big, and more importantly, they are very real.”

Read Gabourey Sidibe’s wonderful speech from the Ms. Foundation Gala (Gabourey Sidibe, Vulture, 2 mai. 2014): sobre autoconfiança, feminismo, preconceito e gordofobia.
“You know why? I told you — I was an asshole! I wanted that party! And what I want trumps what 28 people want me to do, especially when what they want me to do is leave. I had a great time. I did. And if I somehow ruined my classmates’ good time, then that’s on them. “How are you so confident?” “I’m an asshole!” Okay? It’s my good time, and my good life, despite what you think of me. I live my life, because I dare. I dare to show up when everyone else might hide their faces and hide their bodies in shame. I show up because I’m an asshole, and I want to have a good time. And my mother and my father love me. They wanted the best life for me, and they didn’t know how to verbalize it. And I get it. I really do. They were better parents to me than they had themselves. I’m grateful to them, and to my fifth grade class, because if they hadn’t made me cry, I wouldn’t be able to cry on cue now. [Dabs tears] If I hadn’t been told I was garbage, I wouldn’t have learned how to show people I’m talented. And if everyone had always laughed at my jokes, I wouldn’t have figured out how to be so funny. If they hadn’t told me I was ugly, I never would have searched for my beauty. And if they hadn’t tried to break me down, I wouldn’t know that I’m unbreakable. [Dabs tears] So when you ask me how I’m so confident, I know what you’re really asking me: how could someone like me be confident? Go ask Rihanna, asshole!”

Editor’s letter: Together (Tavi Gevinson, Rookie, 1 mai. 2015): sobre términos e recomeços.
“That is one thing I have valued dearly about being a teenager: hating everything so much that love becomes a means of survival. Not romantic love, but general life-love. This has come back to me since the breakup, despite the expectation of girls and women going through heartache to lash out at any forms of romantic love that surround them in their time of mourning, to yell at strangers seen kissing in public or throw Nilla wafers at the TV when a commercial for a dating website comes on. Granted, there was nothing bitter about my own separation—we’re both moving at the end of the summer and just decided to rip off the Band-Aid instead of drowning in anxiousness about how to enjoy our remaining time together—but I have found little truth to this cliché.”

Southern belles, latchkey kids and thrift store crossdressers (Robert Burke Warren, The Bitter Southerner): sobre uma adolescência underground no sul dos EUA, com fotografias de Jon Witherspoon & Clare Butler.
“This was my kind of clique, thick with gender-bending children of absentee parents, fledglings from broken homes who’d figured out how to turn negatives into positives, how to make high-octane fuel of their hypercritical adolescent hate. Some, like Todd and me, were still in the bloom of adolescence, while others were young adults re-inventing themselves on a weekly basis. I loved my regal drama queens, razor-tongued girls, country punks and broody soft boys. The combined voices were a symphony of variations on the Georgia drawl; some accents molasses thick, revealing shotgun-shack roots, some mild as May, tipping us off to private school weekdays. My favorites were the erudite junior Tennessee Williamses and Eudora Weltys, whipsmart and condescending in their meticulously arranged AmVets duds, testing the patience of the stoic waitstaff at the Majestic Diner. This was badassery of a new kind, and I was captivated.”

Guilty pleasure (Krista, Rookie, 16 out. 2013): sobre prazer, culpa, feminismo e sexualidade.
“If reconciling your feminist values with your sexual preferences is something you’re struggling with, don’t panic. But try to believe what I’m about to tell you, because it’s true: It’s healthy to want and seek pleasure. It’s generous and kind to want to make your sexual partner(s) feel good. You should do stuff with someone because you want to, not because they expect or feel entitled to it, and the same should be true for them. Whatever you do during sexytimes is between you and your partner—not you, your partner, and feminism, and not you, your partner, and the Gender Roles Police Force. Everything doesn’t always have to be equal—unless you want it to be. The only things that matter are that everyone’s having fun, and everyone’s feeling respected by and respectful of their partners the whole time you’re doing whatever it is that you get up to. Because in the end, that’s all that sex is: Two people who want to have sex, alone in a room. No judgy voices allowed.”

Why is Orphan Black fighting a fight Buffy should have won over 10 years ago? (Joanna Robinson, Vanity Fair, 25 jun. 2014): sobre personagens femininas fortes, sci-fi e televisão.
“Well-written characters in geek properties will succeed with audiences regardless of gender, or color for that matter–women are far from the only group being marginalized by the geek mainstream. Female characters or characters of color may even do better when they represent something new and original. Maybe not that new and original, though. Like I said at the top, Buffy ended over 10 years ago. So then why does Orphan Black still feel so rare?”

Female celebrities’ images are easy to tarnish (J.M. Bishop, The powder room, 22 jun. 2014): sobre o tratamento diferente da mídia e do público em relação a celebridades homens e mulheres.
“I don’t know if I’d have considered the media’s treatment of Ryder or Del Rey as sexism if I haven’t seen so many versions of this type of hatred and derision before. Now, I am the last Katherine Heigl fan in America and don’t understand how her vaguely described “difficult behavior” is somehow seen as much more problematic than male celebrities who have their own set of demands (Hi, Christian Bale). Or for that matter, why make such a big deal about Jennifer Lopez dating a young man when it is practically de rigeur for male celebrities both on and off screen to date much younger women? Or why is Kristen Stewart’s sullenness is so much more offensive than Jared Leto’s whole awful rocker, ombre schtick? And why can’t Anne Hathaway be excited when she wins an Oscar? Seriously. If I won an Oscar, I’d probably laugh hysterically while peeing my pants. Yeah, she’s a drama kid grown up but fuck, if you are too sullen, you are a bitch and if you are too excited, you are a total asshole because ladies, you just can’t win. And don’t even start me on how people act like Martha Stewart or Oprah Winfrey are monsters. You don’t preside over a billion dollar empire by being nice. But if they were men, they’d just be considered complex instead of insufferable bitches, being awful and undeserving of their success.”

Thirteen ways of looking at deep reading and mimicry, with an ending that totally plagiarizes Wallace Stevens (Ira Sukrungruang, Tri Quarterly, 2 jun. 2014): sobre ensinar literatura, estudar literatura, e as armadilhas do plágio e da imitação.
“We tell our students to read like writers, to analyze syntax and structure. We ask them to internalize language. We tell them to mimic style. We spend class periods dissecting language that is not our own. We talk about voice and tone and tension. We look at the magic of a short sentence, like the work of Hemingway—direct sentiment, verbs in full command without metaphorical frills. We call attention to the construction of the long sentence, like Stanton Michael’s satirical piece, “How to Write a Personal Essay,” when he bemoans the state of his sex life after his four-year-old son says he can’t swim because of his newly discovered hard-on. Or Mary Karr’s use of repetition and alliteration in the final sentence of chapter 13 of The Liar’s Club: “silliest thing, she said, no big deal, she said, then, nothing we couldn’t handle.” Or the perfectly executed, one-word paragraph—“Crazy.”—in Tobias Wolff’s In Pharaoh’s Army, which seamlessly captures our country’s involvement in the Vietnam War. We read these passages out loud, give voice and sound to other people’s words. We talk about words with so much depth that the language of others becomes our language. Sometimes, we don’t know it. Sometimes, it seeps out of our fingers and onto the page.”

Fairy tales are women’s tales (Anne Thériaut, The Toast, 26 mai. 2014): sobre origens e significados de contos de fadas.
“Fairy tales are women’s tales. This has been said before, in words cleverer and more articulate than my own, but still, it bears repeating: fairy tales are women’s tales. They’re bent-backed crones’ tales, sly gossips’ tales, work-worn mothers’ tales and old wives’ tales. They’re stories shared, repeated and elaborated on over mindless women’s work like spinning or mending or shucking corn. These stories are the voices of those who were, within a social and cultural context, so often voiceless; they’re women’s whispered desires and fears, neatly wrapped up in fantastical narratives filled with sex, violence and humour. Fairy tales speak of the things that women most hoped for – a prince, a castle, a happy ending – and those that they were most afraid of – that their children would be taken from them, that men would hurt them or take advantage of them, that their family wouldn’t be provided for.”

What to wear in Westeros: dressing and undressing in the Seven Kingdowms (Nadia Connor, The Hairpin, 12 jun. 2014): sobre performances de poder através das roupas em Game of Thrones.
“But individual expression isn’t the only thing that’s expressed sartorially. As Sarah Mesle notes at the LARB, in Game of Thrones, apparel is political, too: far from being irrelevant frippery, “it is the show’s politics, manifest in a different register.” And self-expression, personal agency and bodily autonomy (who has them, and to whom they are denied) are integral to the politics of Game of Thrones, just as they are integral to the politics of our (real) world.”

Creaky voice: yet another example of young women’s linguistic ingenuity (Gabriel Arana, The Atlantic, 10 jan. 2013): sobre o poder linguístico de mulheres jovens e urbanas.
“Women have long tended to be the linguistic innovators. The standard practice for linguists conducting research on a new language is to find a “NORM”—a non-mobile, older, rural male. NORMs are the most conservative linguistically, and typically serve as a model for where the language has been. If you want to see where the language is going, on the other hand, you find a young, urban woman. We have women to thank for “up-talk”—the rising intonation at the end of a sentence that has spread into mainstream speech—the discourse marker “like,” and now, vocal fry. It is not entirely understood why women tend to be ahead of the curve; it may be because they are less constrained by the limitations of “polite” speech, or because they form more of the social bonds that allow a linguistic trait to spread. Some have also suggested that because women tend to be the primary caretakers during infancy, they pass along linguistic traits to their children during the language-acquisition phase.”

Belly (Larissa Pham, The body narratives, 16 set. 2013): sobre pressões sociais e transtornos alimentares.
“I grow to inhabit the lightness that haunts me like a ghost. It’s an easy identity to wear. The tiny Asian girl, floating through a world that already tells its women: “Be less of you, be smaller.” It is so simple, so seductive. Eventually, it becomes me. For the longest time, my weight hovers below a hundred pounds. The number becomes my benchmark, my sea level. As long as I stay below it, I’m still me. But it’s dangerous to build an identity based on being nothing; it’s dangerous to think of yourself as weightless.”

Here is Michelle Obama’s amazing speech on black female beauty from Maya Angelou’s memorial service (Michelle Obama, Medium, 7 jun. 2014): sobre maya angelou, raça, gênero e beleza.
“And that’s really true for us all. Because in so many ways Maya Angelou knew us. She knew our hope, our pain, our ambition, our fear, our anger, our shame. And she assured us that in spite of it all — in fact, because of it all — we were good. And in doing so, she paved the way for me, and Oprah and so many others just to be our good ol’ black women selves. She showed us that eventually, if we stayed true to who we are, then the world would embrace us.”

The muscle-flexing, mind-blowing book girls will inherit the earth (Linda Holmes, NPR, 5 jun. 2014): sobre uma nova geração de leitoras.
“The Book Girls are only partly real; like most heavily marketed-to demographics, they only sort of exist. Every Book Girl is something else, too – a sportsy girl, a scientist, a nail-art aficionado, a poet, a prodigy, a patient. But the force they are exerting is real. They have created a market for what they love, and they insist upon it. The things marketed to them are not the only things they love –some of the same girls who later showed up at the Roth panel were at the morning panel with John Grisham and Carl Hiaasen, neither of whom is probably being sold with the idea that he’s sharing a lot of readers with dystopian YA. They have allies in boyfriends and boy friends, in parents and other adults, in librarians and book critics. The world of their books is much more complicated than just them, and they are more complicated than just their books.”

Being that woman (Chelsea G. Summers, Adult, 29 mai. 2014): sobre amantes, Jolene e Monica Lewisnky.
“To be “that woman” is inextricable from politics——whether politics qua politics, gender politics, or sexual politics. To be “that woman” is to divide women into two groups: “that woman” and all the rest. It’s the same old, same old——the whore and the accusing crowd of wives, the menacing Jolene and the status quo that likes its IRS filed jointly. Of course, it’s all a pernicious fiction. No one can take your man because he’s not yours. If he leaves you, it’s because he wanted to leave you, flaming locks of auburn hair or nah. That woman is just a woman, doing what she can to cobble together sustenance of various and sundry sorts. And those who try to set women against ourselves do so to divide and conquer. There never has been “that man.””

On running again (Miranda Ward, Vela, 19 mar. 2014): sobre correr, movimento e reflexão.
“A thing about me: I really, really don’t like to fail. I’d rather not try and never know than try and fail – a terrible attitude, possibly a product of my aggressively encouraging middle-class American upbringing: you can be anything you want if you just put your mind to it! But I have a very active imagination, and I like telling myself stories. I like thinking, for instance, that maybe I could have developed into a decent runner if I hadn’t quit the track team halfway through my first season in high school. Maybe the only reason I didn’t go to Harvard is because I didn’t apply. Maybe the only reason I’m not an award-winning, critically-acclaimed, bestselling author is because I didn’t write the book I really wanted to write.”

MFA vs. POC (Junot Diaz, New Yorker, 30 abr. 2014): sobre literatura, educação e raça.
“I remember one young MFA’r describing how a fellow writer (white) went through his story and erased all the ‘big’ words because, said the peer, that’s not the way ‘Spanish’ people talk. This white peer, of course, had never lived in Latin America or Spain or in any US Latino community—he just knew. The workshop professor never corrected or even questioned said peer either. Just let the idiocy ride. Another young sister told me that in the entire two years of her workshop the only time people of color showed up in her white peer’s stories was when crime or drugs were somehow involved. And when she tried to bring up the issue in class, tried to suggest readings that might illuminate the madness, her peers shut her down, saying Our workshop is about writing, not political correctness. As always race was the student of color’s problem, not the white class’s. Many of the writers I’ve talked to often finish up by telling me they’re considering quitting their programs. Of course I tell them not to. If you can, please hang in there. We need your work. Desperately.”

Beyoncé, Kim and the politics of celebrity labor (Anne Helen Petersen, The Baffler, 31 mar. 2014): sobre formas distintas de performar celebridade, Beyoncé e Kim Kardashian.
“Unlike the “modern” celebrity, whose reason for fame (or infamy) is clearly discernable, Kardashian is an exponent of postmodern celebrity: all surface, no substance. In many ways, she functions as the dark double to Beyoncé’s celebrity: Beyoncé sweats; Kim preens. Beyoncé orders; Kim dithers. Beyoncé breaks free from her father; Kim is subject to her mother. Put simply, Beyoncé’s labor is masculinized and legitimated, while Kardashian’s is feminized and denigrated.”

Editor’s letter: Action (Tavi Gevinson, Rookie, 1 jun. 2014): sobre ação e movimento.
“Action like sex, impulsive sex, purely physical, non-emotional sex. Action like being direct in how you communicate with others, be it in a get-what-you-want career way or in a romantic relationship or with a guardian. Action like the power of visibility, of existing as someone consistently silenced and how refusing to go away is a radical act in and of itself. Action like picking yourself up after an unfortunate experience or just a bad day.”

In relief of silence and burden (Roxane Gay, 26 mai. 2014): sobre misoginia, violência, estupro e ódio.
“I was so ashamed of what had happened, of everything I had done with a boy I wanted to love me leading up to what happened with him and all his friends, for the aftermath. I felt like it was my fault. That boy hated women too. I know he did. When I think now, of how he treated me before, during, after, I see the hatred. I am certain he learned it from his older brother. Maybe they learned it from their father. I should forgive, knowing that his hatred of women has such a virulent and inescapable genealogy but I can’t. Or I won’t. I don’t believe in forgiveness as the bridge to salvation.”

On “The John Green Effect”, contemporary realism and form as a political act (Anne Ursu, Terrible Trivium, 15 mai. 2014): sobre John Green, literatura “de verdade”, YA e gênero.
” So the peculiar canonization of John Green and this string of bizarre articles that anoint him as the vanguard of a post-sparkly-vampire seriousness in YA isn’t simply about taking a white male more seriously than everyone else. It’s also about privileging a certain narrative structure—the dominant narrative’s dominant narrative. It’s not only that Green is a straight white man, it’s that he writes in the way that generations of straight white men have deemed important and Literary. And in art, the remaking of form has historically made the establishment very uncomfortable. There’s so much innovation in YA (and, hi, middle grade!) and its audience is wonderfully open to new stories told in new ways. By holding up Green as an exemplar, by shoving his peers into his shadow, these critics are telling writers who might be innovating: if you want to be important, write like him.”

On antidepressants (Jade Sylvan, The Toast, 15 mai. 2014): sobre depressão, antidepressivos e efeitos colaterais.
“And you know what? I functioned. I got myself out of bed every morning. I held jobs. I went out. I made friends who were talented and intelligent and kind. I didn’t get too close to anyone. I knew none of them really cared about me. I worked and worked. I wrote books and films. I imagined jumping into rivers and out of windows. I started nonprofits. I taught poetry to at-risk youth. I drank a lot. I toured the world with my art. I hated and isolated myself. I got myself out of bed every morning. I walked around and talked to people. I knew I was a parasite and a monster and it would be better for everyone if I were dead. I knew this thought was probably not objectively true. I kept moving. I got myself out of bed every morning. I got older.”

#YesAllWomen, and yes, me (Rachel Sklar, Medium, 28 mai. 2014): sobre relacionamentos abusivos.
“(I know what you are thinking right now, because I am too — my God, what a drain, how could any thinking woman put up with this? Understand that before it starts being a regular thing it’s just a thing, one that’s only happened here and there, and in between there’s been the fun stuff, the in-jokes, the watching TV in bed, the epic Gchats, the planning ahead. Because when he’s good, he’s great, and when he’s not, he is not only sorry but filled with so much self-loathing all you can do is say, don’t worry, it’s fine, you’re fine, we’re fine. And mostly, you are, until the next time a grilled cheese sandwich comes improperly prepared. Then, watch out.)”

The pop diaspora of M.I.A. (Ayesha A. Siddiqi, Noisey, 4 nov. 2013): sobre Matangi, M.I.A., pós-colonialismo e sua confluência cultural.
“By lifting imagery associated with the global south and restyling it with an unapologetically gaudy insistence on its “otherness,” M.I.A empowers both herself and brown kids worldwide who had previously only been the subjects of Otherization, not the agents. Her reappropriation of the exotic kitsch brands subaltern struggle with dance-pop cool, while triumphantly avoiding privileging white consumption.”

Trans women & the new hypertext (Merritt Kopas, Lambda Literary, 8 jul. 2014): sobre mulheres trans*, twine, interatividade, narrativas e videogames.
“Like, last month I was at the Writing Trans Genres Conference in Winnipeg. Just the fact that that was a thing, that we had a whole conference of people discussing trans people’s literature and sharing their work, is a big deal. And it made me realize that there are a lot of parallels between trans people’s literature and trans games: in both cases trans authors are both rejecting traditional literary forms and appropriating them, using them to tell new kinds of stories. Importantly, both trans literature and trans games represent a breaking out of the genre of memoir, to which trans people have been mostly confined by traditional publishing. This is a big deal because memoir is fundamentally outsider-oriented: it’s about explaining how weird and gross and sexy it is to be a trans person to a cisgender audience. But more and more trans authors are forming our own publishers, or using the internet to get around gatekeepers entirely and release interactive works directly to our communities.”

Beleza natural é só uma ferramenta de marketing (Stoya, Vice, 2 set. 2013): sobre o discurso da “beleza natural”.
“E coisas como aquela campanha da Beleza Real da Dove? A definição de beleza deles é aceitar publicamente rugas e cabelos brancos, mas parece depender pesadamente de peles sem nenhuma mácula. Claro, sardas são consideradas aceitáveis, mas ainda estou para ver uma espinha gigante no nariz de uma das mulheres dos comerciais da Dove. Também nunca vi eles mostrarem uma modelo com mancha de nascença ou um caso de eczema. Eles realmente apresentam uma variedade muito maior de tons de pele e formatos de corpo do que as revistas de moda, mas não incluem pessoas com deficiências físicas visíveis ou grandes cicatrizes. Natural é, novamente, uma ferramenta de marketing: eles estão usando o conceito de confiança que vem de dentro para vender mais cremes para lambuzar o lado de fora. Eles estão redefinindo a palavra natural para isso se correlacionar com quão pouca maquiagem uma mulher está usando, totemizar essa disposição de aparecer em público sem cosméticos como coragem.”

Documents of our common ground (Anisse Gross, Brooklyn Quarterly): entrevista com a escritora Rebecca Solnit sobre cidades, mapas e história.
“Maps are literally documents of our common ground: We can all go walk down Fifth Avenue or the Las Vegas Strip or the Appalachian Trail, but even online maps, which thanks to the monopoly power of Google are mostly Google Maps, tend to reinforce a middle-class consumer reality. People can put data on the common maps, but they tend to mostly put restaurants and shopping stuff there, not history or ecology. This tells us a neighborhood is where you pay for services and eat stuff, not where this person died and these tenants organized and those birds migrate through and that ancient tree still stands.”

No one but me gets to judge how I cope with my sexual assault (Souyenne Dathorne, Feminspire, 21 fev. 2014): sobre as expectativas colocadas nas vítimas de abuso sexual.
“Survivors of sexual violence cause themselves enough pain. They don’t need any additional pressure coming from a society that constantly fails to protect them, a society that excuses and releases rapists on a near daily basis. To the survivors: Don’t let anyone tell you how to feel, how to react or act, no one knows what’s in your head, no one sees your scars. They don’t know what your deal with, they don’t see the patches that have been placed on the open wounds in an attempt to appear normal.”

Fan fiction is more than words – it’s about worlds (Caroline Starks, The Mary Sue, 9 jul. 2014): sobre os méritos literários e criativos de fanfiction.
“And that leads me to another idea, that our understanding of a world we love does not have to be confined to what is shown to us. This whole break down of the importance of fan fiction doesn’t have to be contained to the characters themselves. No, it can be used for exploring worlds and scenes. Using the stories we love, a writer can create an amazing framework for even more spectacular stories.”

Virginia Woolf’s idea of privacy (Joshua Rothman, New Yorker, 9 jul. 2014): sobre privacidade, literatura e virginia woolf.
“Woolf often conceives of life this way: as a gift that you’ve been given, which you must hold onto and treasure but never open. Opening it would dispel the atmosphere, ruin the radiance—and the radiance of life is what makes it worth living. It’s hard to say just what holding onto life without looking at it might mean; that’s one of the puzzles of her books. But it has something to do with preserving life’s mystery; with leaving certain things undescribed, unspecified, and unknown; with savoring certain emotions, such as curiosity, surprise, desire, and anticipation. It depends on an intensified sense of life’s preciousness and fragility, and on a Heisenberg-like notion that, when it comes to our most abstract and spiritual intuitions, looking too closely changes what we feel. It has to do, in other words, with a kind of inner privacy, by means of which you shield yourself not just from others’ prying eyes, but from your own. Call it an artist’s sense of privacy.”

Invisible barriers: on being a female rock musician (Amy Shaw, The Toast, 23 dez. 2013): sobre os limites de gênero no mundo da música.
“Truthfully, though, being complimented simply for being a woman who rocks out is pretty innocuous compared to some other types of attention that come with the gig. Some male musicians have seen me, and women like me, as a whole new avenue of sexual conquest, for instance. When I was playing around the South Florida scene several years ago, there was more than one occasion in which guys invited me over to “jam” at their places. At the time, I was eager to find people to collaborate with, so I accepted their offers with all of the happy-puppy enthusiasm any new musician would. Although many of these interactions turned out well, I didn’t know that “jamming” was code for bringing me into your bedroom to “give me a tour” and then touching my thigh after you tell me that one day, the woman of your dreams will put her clothes in your closet. I came here for your home studio, not to fulfill your weird domestic fantasy, you weirdo.”

Introducing TV’s best female monster yet< (Lili Loufbourow, The Cut, 3 jul. 2014): sobre Orphan Black e a “vilã” Helena.
“Neither is Helena reducible to the story of her abuse — she’s a Laura Palmer who refuses to die. Yes, she’s been raped, cut, stabbed, and shot. Her lips have been stitched shut. She has lived in a cage. Her eggs have been harvested. She cut a tail off a man and killed her mother and sisters. And yet the show — while recognizing her monstrosity and fully realizing her potential to inflict terror — doesn’t place her beyond hope. Her superpower isn’t her femininity but her ability to occupy both sides of the horror script: monster and victim.”

Stevie Nicks is a queen, a witch, a dragon; she’s in control. Stevie Nicks is there for us (One week, one band, 2012): sobre Stevie Nicks, poder e feminismo.
“But what I love, what I love, is she does it without ever giving in to the men that dismiss her. She’s emotional. She’s dramatic. She raises her voice as much as she can. She thinks she’s pretty, she thinks she’s a star, and when her fans crowd up to the edge of the stage, crazy, she welcomes them, with open arms. She revels in it. She revels in it. She’s too much of a girl for you? She revels in it.”

Never write from a place of despair< (Erika Anderson, Midnight Breakfast): sobre escrever, solidão e a passagem do tempo.
“Never write from a place of despair, especially when you are less and less sure what despair means and whether it is the name of your condition — if a sentiment is indeed a condition. What if the name of your condition is weltschmerz, but instead of weariness of the world at large it is merely weariness of your own world, where everything is weightless, where every question is a shard of glass, each shard embedded in your skin? (Is that why you are so sensitive? Because your epidermis is cotton-candy fiberglass?) What if you are nothing more than earth tethered to air, and therefore you are tethered to nothing?”

Idol worship: Zelda Fitzgerald, the first american flapper (Carmen, Autostraddle, 7 mai. 2013): sobre The Great Gatsby, os anos 20, e a maravilhosa Zelda Fitzgerald.
“Zelda Fitzgerald was a woman born to tell a story. Although her own story is one of a struggle to be seen, it is clear she left an imprint on our shared cultural history, setting the standard for a movement that birthed some of our most integral values: sexual freedom, general badassery, and alternative lifestyle haircuts. Inspired, self-righteous, and full to the brim with equal parts ego and prowess, she described herself as acting “without a thought for anyone else.””

Editor’s letter: The Great Unknown (Tavi Gevinson, Rookie, 1 jul. 2014): sobre o risco do desconhecido.
“Then my S.O. and I broke up, and I graduated, and now I just feel like, overwhelmed by not knowing who I am now or what my Identity is or what my Core Me–tools are to come back to when I feel sad. Going back to what used to be myself just pulls me into a lot of painfully bittersweet memories, so I’ve been talking less and drifting more and actively testing a theory that reincarnation can happen to live bodies by trying to turn myself into a blank slate. It leaves me both terrified that I could become an actual monster, as well as thrilled that I could become the exact person I ought to be, WE CAN BE HEROES Bowie-style.”

Pigeonholes and Portals and Third-Culture Peeps (Xu Xi 許素細, Guernica, 30 jun. 2014): sobre nacionalidades, transnacionalidades, pós-nacionalidades e o lugar do escritor.
“To write is to participate in the culture of your world. That world evolves out of language, ethnicity, class, gender, place of birth or residence, sexual orientation, religion, nationality, or, in other words, all the pigeonholes that can and do define literary writers and their work. Notably, each of the above can be plural for any one individual.”

Diary of a young american girl in Los Angeles (Alice Bolin, The Awl, 7 ago. 2014): escrito no dia do meu aniversário, sobre los angeles, lolita e lana del rey.
“In the United States, the nineteen fifties is remembered as the most nostalgically, wholesomely American decade, riding the pride of winning World War II into the paranoid patriotism of the Cold War. Precisely because of this wholesomeness, nineteen fifties America is a trope that is easily, and enjoyably, perverted. Del Rey’s music is overtly about America, with song titles like “American” and “National Anthem.” She displays an almost Freudian interest in her cultural origins—who begot her, who formed her vision of herself. Maybe this is why she displays an obviously, kinkily Freudian interest in fucking her dad.”

Flawed: uma feminista imperfeita (Fabiane Secches, Think Olga, 28 ago. 2014): sobre Beyoncé, feminismo e o mito da feminista perfeita.
“Não faz sentido que uma ideia que defenda a liberdade, inclusive a liberdade de sermos imperfeitas, acabe por nos aprisionar em mais um de tantos estereótipos: “essa sim é feminista padrão A de qualidade. Aquela outra é um B ou C. Já aquela nem feminista é.” A gente tende a hierarquizar e a classificar tudo. É muito difícil apenas aceitar as diferenças, inclusive de vivências e percepções desse conceito que não tem mesmo nada de absoluto. Mas aceitar esse desafio é um caminho que pode nos fazer pessoas melhores. O feminismo é um conceito em formação e transformação e estamos nos formando e transformando junto com ele.”

The aftershocks (David Wolman, Medium, 24 ago. 2014): sobre riscos, estatísticas e catástrofes.
““I have spent my life trying to understand earthquakes to help prevent harm to people,” he says. “Now those people are against me, when I think we should be together.””

Gavin McInnes, Thought Catalog and our gross misunderstanding of “freedom of speech” (Tom Hawking, Flavorwire, 21 ago. 2014): sobre a diferença entre liberdade de expressão e ser um completo babaca.
“There’s something disingenuous about the entire premise: one has to wonder why, if it really believes “every thought is relevant,” TC doesn’t just provide a free platform for every lunatic on the Internet to publish theories about chemtrails or reflections on the behavior of cats and be done with it. As it stands at the moment, the site is a weird hybrid — a “platisher,” as Jezebel put it in an excellent article earlier this week — where there’s clearly some measure of editorial oversight, or at least a suggestion that there might be, even if that apparently doesn’t extend to actually reading a piece called “Why Transphobia Is Perfectly Natural” before publishing it.”

Writer of color (Zahir Janmohamed, Guernica, 13 jun. 2013): sobre a pressão para escritores não-brancos representarem toda uma cultura à qual não necessariamente pertencem.
“I wanted to tell them that if being a writer is to endure loneliness then being a writer of color in America is to suffer banishment: the only boat off this island often being if I write a certain kind of story in a certain kind of way for a certain kind of audience, which is to say—and we do not say these words enough—for a white audience.”

Entitlement and apathy, the case of women against feminism (Natalia Borecka, Lone Wolf, 15 ago. 2014): sobre o que leva uma mulher a dizer que é contra o feminismo, e o que isso diz sobre o feminismo em si.
“Arguably (though they may hate to admit it) feminism’s greatest accomplishment is the fact that Women Against Feminism even exists. Its members are clearly a very lucky group of women that have never been burned by gender inequality in their lives, and so they assume that it isn’t real. They can work where they want, date whomever they want, they can wear what they want, vote for who they want, they have seemingly absolute freedom. In a world where seeing is believing, when there’s no visible sexism in one’s immediate social circle, it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that equality has been achieved, over and done with. Once you accept that fallacy, then any politically active feminists out there are naturally going to look like they’re fanatically fighting imaginary dragons.”

Mulheres famintas (Lélia Almeida, Wall Street International, 19 jul. 2014): sobre transtornos alimentares, padrões de beleza e a cultura da fome.
““Uma cultura focada na magreza feminina não revela uma obsessão com a beleza feminina. É uma obsessão sobre a obediência feminina. Fazer dietas é o sedativo político mais potente na história das mulheres; uma população passivamente insana pode ser controlada”. ‒ Naomi Wolf”

Sobre personagens femininas fortes (Alpaca Editora, 19 ago. 2014): o título diz tudo.
“Se a gente notar, todas essas características estão ligadas não só a personagens masculinos, como a modelos de “força” masculinos. Um personagem masculino durão teria mais ou menos uma personalidade parecida. Homens adultos não mostram emoções, não precisam de ajuda. O homem másculo perfeito é grande e forte, enquanto mulheres são pequenas e fracas. É o que as crianças hoje aprendem nos jogos, nos filmes, nos desenhos, como “coisa de menino” e “coisa de menina”. Homens são fortes e protegem, mulheres são fracas e ficam em casa. Assim sendo, a única maneira de fazer que uma personagem mulher seja forte é dando a ela características de homem.”

The pleasure of reading to impress yourself (Rebecca Mead, New Yorker, 13 ago. 2014): sobre livros leves, livros pesados e o prazer do desafio.
“But there are pleasures to be had from books beyond being lightly entertained. There is the pleasure of being challenged; the pleasure of feeling one’s range and capacities expanding; the pleasure of entering into an unfamiliar world, and being led into empathy with a consciousness very different from one’s own; the pleasure of knowing what others have already thought it worth knowing, and entering a larger conversation. Among my catalogue are some books that I am sure I was—to use an expression applied to elementary-school children—decoding rather than reading. Such, I suspect, was the case with “Ulysses,” a book I read at eighteen, without having first read “The Odyssey,” which might have deepened my appreciation of Joyce. Even so—and especially when considering adolescence—we should not underestimate the very real pleasure of being pleased with oneself. What my notebook offers me is a portrait of the reader as a young woman, or at the very least, a sketch. I wanted to read well, but I also wanted to become well read. The notebook is a small record of accomplishment, but it’s also an outline of large aspiration. There’s pleasure in ambition, too.”

Why not admit we didn’t wake up like this? (Ann Friedman, The Cut, 25 jul. 2014): sobre a expectativa da beleza sem esforços.
“There’s a refreshing pop-culture counterpoint, though. If anyone is willing to admit she definitely did not wake up like this, it’s Kim Kardashian. She’s so unashamed, in fact, that she’s created an entire iPad game based on her efforts. Kardashian is not just here to “inspire.” The goal of the game is to learn how to make it to the A-list by getting the superficial stuff right — wearing the right dress and making the right small talk. “Kim K skills,” as Kanye calls them, are all about being ruthlessly strategic and working hard to achieve the life you want. And not being afraid to admit that’s what you’re doing.”

Girl Trouble (Robin Wasserman, The Los Angeles review of books, 25 set. 2014): sobre Conversion, The Fever (da mesma autora de Dare me) e crises de histeria coletiva em garotas adolescentes.
“It began, as trends do, with the cheerleaders. Katie Krautwurst, a blond high school cheerleader from Le Roy, New York, woke up from a nap to discover she couldn’t stop twitching. Two weeks later, her best friend, cheer captain Thera Sanchez, was seized by a similar array of strange symptoms: facial tics, stutters, fainting spells. One girl twitching might have been stress, or sudden-onset Tourette’s. Girls plural was medically messy. Especially when, as high school trends do, it spread.”

When social media makes something go viral in real life (Megan Abbott, Huffington Post, 26 jun. 2014): da autora de The Fever e Dare Me, sobre crises de histeria coletiva em garotas adolescentes e o impacto das mídias sociais.
“In January 2012, they were everywhere. The morning shows, CNN, Fox News. A group of teenage girls from the small town of Le Roy, New York, all exhibiting startling tics, their necks twisting, jaws thrusting, strange barks emanating from their mouths. And the “mystery illness” was spreading — 10, 12, eventually 18 stricken girls. For several weeks, I found myself following the case compulsively. It wasn’t just the disturbing tics that mesmerized me. It was the look of panic in the girls’s eyes, and the eyes of their parents. Watching them on my laptop, I felt my own neck start aching, my jaw throbbed. I remember chiding myself: You can’t catch it through a computer screen.”

Do women really hate each other? A manifesto to #eliminategirlhate (Natalia Borecka, Lone Wolf, 19 set. 2014): sobre o ódio entre garotas e sororidade.
“I will stop looking for reasons to hate the girls I meet. I will stop seeing other women as competition and feel threatened by their confidence.”

The importance of music to girls (Brodie, Rookie, 15 set. 2014): sobre o gosto musical das garotas adolescentes.
“But the wave of hate that follows any attempt by a pop artist to cover a song by a (usually male) rock band, with a (usually male) rock fan base, is, by now, both totally predicable and deeply depressing. And the reason is as obvious as it is sad and banal: plain old sexism.”

The future of the future of books (Lincoln Michel, Buzzfeed, 17 set. 2014): sobre tecnologias e o pânico do futuro dos livros.
“Technological progression always looks like a straight line in retrospect, but only because we ignore the supposed sea changes that fail. Movies were black and white without sound, then black and white with sound, then color with sound. But what happened to Smell-O-Vision? And five years after Avatar, why hasn’t 3D completely taken over the way we watch movies instead of being a declining sideshow? On the one hand, it’s easy to see the progress from early cell phones to modern smartphones. And yet, the fact that it was phones that progressed that quickly instead of, say, consumer vehicles (still no flying cars?) would shock time travelers from as recently as 1994.”

Diaries and dictaphones (Rachel Skyles, The Toast, 8 jul. 2013): sobre meios, mensagens, tecnologias, escritas e Lois Lane.
“The writer of a notebook is not making claims to its reader; their notations need not have a purpose. Each entry remains neatly tied to the outside world, a respectful distance from interpretation and judgment, masquerading as record if it keeps events and emotions separate. Joan Didion famously wrote that the apparent randomness of observation was the closest thing to narrative truth that she could find. “Our notebooks give us away,” she suggested, because in the act of rereading what we once observed, the scene and its emotion reappear. With more clarity than a journal, with more detail than a ticket stub, the innocuous note of the cat in a triangle of sunlight brings us to our former selves as if returning to the scene in which we sat.”

Tavi Gevinson (Grimes, Interview, jul. 2014): Grimes entrevista Tavi Gevinson; preciso dizer mais?
“Well, I’ve never really felt like a journalist. I’ve felt like a writer and a diarist. I have made myself vulnerable in my writing, and I think that vulnerability makes people strong. My favorite performances or works of art are always people showing that side of themselves. So it was never that hard for me to come to that part of acting. I started acting when I was little. I did community theater and kids programs at professional theaters and plays at school and voice lessons for seven years. I actually stopped when I started Rookie, because Rookie was so time-consuming. But then I realized that I had access to this world where I could go on auditions. And there wasn’t too much of an identity crisis when I started acting professionally because I had been acting longer than I had been writing. It didn’t feel new.”

Everything is wonderful. Everything is terrible. (Kate Arends, Wit & Delight, 22 jul. 2014): sobre medo e ansiedade.
“These things have a certain way of revealing themselves, slowly and deliberately. Even if you’ve successfully outrun them, denied them, buried them, they never go away. You will come to terms with who you are. The evidence had been mounting against me for years, all symptoms of a greater problem I’d have to confront. No matter how strong your relationship or resilient your family, the fight for self-love is a battle fought from within. In the end, you’re going to have to save yourself.”

Notes from a liar (Tracy Wan, The Hairpin, 12 set. 2014): sobre mentiras, verdades, e proteção.
“A) We tell lies to protect those we love from what we really want.
B) We tell lies to protect what we really want from those we love.
C) Whatever you tell yourself, it is wise to tell yourself the opposite.”

No joy without risk (Kim Boekbinder, Medium, 10 set. 2014): uma entrevista com Amanda Palmer sobre The art of asking.
“If I seem invincible to people I hope it’s because they see that side of me. Not some bullshit side where I am a person who is absolutely not afraid of rejection and not afraid of pain, and not afraid of anyone or anything. Because that’s just not true. I am afraid of all these things. But I also believe that we’re all afraid, so my main focus is to remember that I’m not alone and to remind other people that they’re not alone either.”

12 things no one told me about sex after rape (CJ Hale, Thought Catalog, 12 jun. 2013): porque estupro não é sexo.
“There is a strange sort of unspoken theory that once a woman has been raped, sex is no longer a viable option for her. Sex has been replaced by trauma, fear, pain, and anxiety. I’m not saying this is never the case. Every survivor’s story and experience is different, but too often the assumption is that if you have been raped, you are sexually broken and forever unfixable. That sort of discourse is not healthy or empowering or even sympathetic. What I want to say is what I wish I had been told: rape is not a form of sex, it is a form of assault. Sex feels good. Assault is traumatizing. It is possible for sex to exist after rape because they are different experiences, just like it’s possible for you to still enjoy going out to eat even if you got food poisoning once. You might never go back to that restaurant again, but it doesn’t mean you will get food poisoning every time you go out.”

Reconciling something we shouldn’t have to reconcile in the first place (Tavi Gevinson & Dylan Rupert, Rookie, 11 out. 2012): sobre música pop.
“Recently I realized that popularity can also mean something is just fun and catchy, and that’s fine. Not everything has to make you think. So much of the music I like aims to conjure emotions that are complicated and heavy, which is challenging and fascinating and great. But sometimes I just want to be happy! Sometimes I just want to dance! And I don’t want to go for a run and break down in the middle of it because Fiona Apple just got real about her trust issues! Liking something almost everyone else does can make you feel a part of something. It’s not that I’m trying to fit in, I just got sick of rolling my eyes at “Burnin’ Up” every time I heard it in the grocery store, because, like, why did I even ever care to begin with? Why did I ever think a harmless Disney boy-band was worth my energy? Is my boycotting of them really going to change the cultural landscape and get everyone to throw away their Kindles and pick up a goddamn tangible book with paper instead? ’Cause I think it’s easy to give pop music greater CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE than it actually has. There are a lot of terrible things about the world, but the Jonas Brothers do not symbolize EVERY PROBLEM WITH CAPITALISM, or what have you.”

Nicholas Felton quantificou todas as conversas que teve em 2013 (Claire L. Evans, Motherboard, 25 ago. 2014): sobre um experimento curioso.
“São provas. É o canal que usamos, e ela é a pessoa de quem sou mais próximo. Mas quando observo a fartura toda de comunicação, fica tudo bem nebuloso. Percebo como os diálogos estão inundados de termos de venda: “clique”, “ofertas”, “retornos”, todas essas palavras que estão relacionadas ao comércio turvam os aspectos pessoais dos dados.”

On the nightstand: on deciding what to read next (Sonya Chung, The Millions, 28 ago. 2014): sobre os métodos de escolher o que ler.
“To go from one book to another all by themselves. It sounds simple enough. As a young person just entering the world of post-academy literature, the challenge may be discerning “what’s good.” In youth, there is a blessed naiveté about this, a hunger for objective, definitive recommendations from an authoritative source. In graduate school, when a professor first challenged me to “create your own map of literary influences,” it was indeed a revelation: the image I remember conjuring was of lily pads — each of us in our own deep black pond, bug-eyed and hopping from one pad to another. Sometimes just one pad over, sometimes a greater leap to the far shore. Apparently random, and yet mysteriously considered.”

Beyoncé: the woman on top of the world (Jody Rosen, The New York Times, 3 jun. 2014): sobre o impacto cultural da Beyoncé.
“What does Beyoncé mean? What doesn’t she mean.”

Molly Crabapple (Tina Essmaker, The Great Discontent, 28 jul. 2014): entrevista com a artista Molly Crabapple.
“We also live in an era where a lot of the old, supporting institutions are either opening up or crumbling, so I suggest that people don’t try to distort who they are to fit notions of what’s professionally viable, because that paradigm is over. I suggest you focus in on your weirdness, your passions, and your fucked-up damage, and be yourself as truly as you can. Express that with as much craft, discipline, and rigor as you can; work as hard as you can to build a career out of that, and then you’ll create a career that you love and that’s true to yourself, as opposed to doing what you think other people want and burning yourself out when you’re older.”

Big Bang Press, fanfic, publishing (Erin Claiborne, Big Bang Press, 30 out. 2014): sobre a editora Big Bang Press e o estigma associado a fanfics.
“But then I thought of people I’ve known who have become pro writers and have left fandom behind — and that made me sad, because I love fanfic and fandom, and I want to write fanfic until the day I die. And then I did some soul-searching (lol), and I realised that, you know what, fandom is who I am. I’m a fan. I have some fanfic I’m really, really proud of; I have fanfic that I struggled to write and that made me a better writer, just as I have fic that I wrote because I wanted to share something funny with my friends. I have some incredibly awful fanfic, too, but, hey, so does everyone. I know almost all my friends either through fandom or because of fandom, including my flatmate and my boyfriend and my best friend.”

In defense of an unlikable protagonist when the unlikable protagonist is yourself (Beejoli Shah, The Hairpin, 29 out. 2014): sobre escrever em primeira pessoa e se aceitar como uma unlikable protagonist.
“I’m starting to understand the women who can write themselves as villains, or even just as nuisances, immature, petty, self-centered; the litany of insults lobbied at women who are not the heroines of their stories. It’s the unapologetic commitment to writing things that are going to chafe. If they don’t chafe, we’re doing it wrong. I may not like my unlikable protagonist in the story of my life much, and the urge is always going to exist to write her better—or at least dress up her sins and joke around them to try to downplay their severity—but I’m finally starting to make peace with being the bitch, the villain, the harlot. If it doesn’t chafe, I’m doing it wrong.”

“Or you could as us”: on talking over muslim women (Sarah Hagi, The Toast, 15 out. 2014): sobre preconceitos, islamofobia, e sequestro de protagonismo.
“The silencing and total lack of engagement in regards to Muslim women is dangerous. Under the false pretense of concern, time and time again I see my reality be dissected. It’s true, there are Muslim women who are oppressed and there are definite problems within our community. However, there’s almost only that one narrative. Being painted as a homogenous group of silent, invisible women puts me in the position of a victim before I’ve even had the chance to speak up for myself.”

Hunger is the beginning of every folktale (Kristiana Willsey, The Toast, 9 out. 2014): sobre comida, fome, sexo e as origens dos contos de fada.
“Fairy tale heroines navigate worlds that darkly mirror our own, in which appetite is a slippery set of contradictions. Food, sex, and power are wrapped up in conflicting rules, like the beautiful and the ugly twins, the mother and the witch, the prince and the dragon, two edges of the same knife, cutting both ways.”

What we’re really afraid of when we call someone “basic” (Anne Helen Petersen, Buzzfeed, 20 out. 2014): sobre classe, “basic bitches” e o medo da mediocridade.
“Unique taste — and the capacity to avoid the basic — is a privilege. A privilege of location (usually urban), of education (exposure to other cultures and locales), and of parentage (who would introduce and exalt other tastes). To summarize the groundbreaking work of theorist Pierre Bourdieu: We don’t choose our tastes so much as the micro-specifics of our class determine them. To consume and perform online in a basic way is thus to reflect a highly American, capitalist upbringing. Basic girls love the things they do because nearly every part of American commercial media has told them that they should.”

Books, New York, and the internet: a love story (Maris Kreizman, Buzzfeed, 13 out. 2014): sobre ambições, o mercado editorial, e a internet.
“The problem with choosing an identity and a lifestyle that’s tied to a particular profession is, of course, that you must rely on job security for a sense of self-worth. In 2008 I left the corporation where I’d slowly but surely been making a name for myself for five years in order to take a job at a smaller publisher where ideally I’d have more authority — or at least fewer phones to answer. Four months into the job, my division was sold, and I lost my job. It was the worst breakup I’d ever experienced. I was a spurned lover, frantically trying to figure out what was left of me if my beloved had rejected me. What made me me if I wasn’t a book editor? Being unemployed in New York City in the springtime should’ve been somewhat enjoyable. The city was alive and I had the time to take it all in! I was receiving unemployment checks, after all, and poverty wasn’t imminent. But that season felt like one long panic attack, made worse by the fact that I felt overwhelmingly stressed about not being able to just relax and enjoy myself. This, as many neurotic and/or driven people know, is a vicious cycle.”

Theses on the feminist novel (Roxane Gay, Dissent, set.-dez. 2014): sobre feminismo, literatura, parâmetros e definições.
“Feminism concerns the equality of women. When I say equality, I mean that women should be able to move through the world with the same ease as men. Women should be able to live in a society where their bodies are not legislated. They should be able to live their lives free from the threat of sexual violence. And when we consider the needs of women, it is imperative to also consider the other identities a woman inhabits. Feminism cannot merely be about gender; it must also be about equality in the fields of race and ethnicity, ability, sexuality, spirituality, class, and the many other markers of who we are.”

IT HAPPENED TO ME: I’ve Been Forced Out Of My Home And Am Living In Constant Fear Because Of Relentless Death Threats From Gamergate (Brianna Wu, xoJane, 16 out. 2014): sobre o gamergate e a misoginia no meio dos videogames.
“Gamergate, I have one message for you so listen up. When you take your last dying breath, I want you to know this. It was an absolute pleasure knocking you on your ass for the fine women in this field.”

Bullish life: When men are too emotional to have a ration argument (Jen Dziura, The Gloss, 2012): sobre o mito de que mulheres são excessivamente emocionais.
“I wish to dispel the notion that women are “more emotional.” I don’t think we are. I think that the emotions women stereotypically express are what men call “emotions,” and the emotions that men typically express are somehow considered by men to be something else. This is incorrect. Anger? EMOTION. Hate? EMOTION. Resorting to violence? EMOTIONAL OUTBURST. An irrational need to be correct when all the evidence is against you? Pretty sure that’s an emotion. Resorting to shouting really loudly when you don’t like the other person’s point of view? That’s called “being too emotional to engage in a rational discussion.””

The sexual (and racial) politics of nerd culture: a dialogue (Priya Alika Elias & Ezekiel Kweku, The Toast, 30 set. 2014): sobre Revenge of the nerds, misoginia, racismo e cultura nerd.
“For so long, certain things have been the domain of geek guys: gaming, comics, so on. And with a lowering of the barriers to entry, women may enter. That stresses geek guys out, because for so long the idea was, “let me pick you up by telling you about these things.” But now girls know that Wonder Woman’s first appearance was in such-and-such year, in this issue. In any case, the manufactured outrage nerds have about fake geek girls is entirely disproportionate to the perceived offense. But that’s typical of nerds: they overreact.”

#WhyBuffyStayed: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Riley, and the Cycle of Abuse (Samantha Field, The Mary Sue, 7 out. 2014): sobre Buffy e o que nos mantém em relações abusivas.
“He refuses to respect her boundaries, forcing a conversation Buffy makes clear she does not want to have. He manhandles her, grabbing her and using physical force to compel her attention multiple times. He blames her for Dracula’s attack in the season five premiere (considering the historical connection between vampirism and sex, the “Dracula” episode serves as a metaphor for sexual assault) and admits to wanting revenge on her for “letting” Dracula bite her. He superficially acknowledges becoming a thrall was his fault, but nonetheless shifts responsibility for his actions onto Buffy—if she’d just expended the effort to convince him of her love, he wouldn’t have done it. Then he then outlines all of the ways that she could have “proved” her love for him. Finally, he hands her an ultimatum: unless she “gives [him] a reason to stay,” he’s leaving that night. This is what an abuser does. They accuse and vilify their partner in a dedicated effort to justify their betrayals. They victim blame, they slut shame, they center on their emotions and what they feel they deserve. They use force – physical, verbal, or otherwise – to get what they want.”

The careless language of sexual violence (Roxane Gay, The Rumpus, 10 mar. 2014): sobre a forma como falamos sobre estupro e como isso constrói a cultura de estupro.
“As I write any of these stories, I wonder if I am being gratuitous. I want to get it right. How do you get this sort of thing right? How do you write violence authentically without making it exploitative? There are times when I worry I am contributing to the kind of cultural numbness that would allow an article like the one in the Times to be written and published, that allows rape to be such rich fodder for popular culture and entertainment. We cannot separate violence in fiction from violence in the world no matter how hard we try. As Laura Tanner notes in her book Intimate Violence, “the act of reading a representation of violence is defined by the reader’s suspension between the semiotic and the real, between a representation and the material dynamics of violence which it evokes, reflects, or transforms.” She also goes on to say that, “The distance and detachment of a reader who must leave his or her body behind in order to enter imaginatively into the scene of violence make it possible for representations of violence to obscure the material dynamics of bodily violation, erasing not only the victim’s body but his or her pain.” The way we currently represent rape, in books, in newspapers, on television, on the silver screen, often allows us to ignore the material realities of rape, the impact of rape, the meaning of rape.”

‘Til dead do us part (Haley Mlotek, The Hairpin, 3 out. 2014): sobre Gone Girl.
“Amy is not a role model, not some sort of feminist icon, and the answer to this particular kind of gender imbalance is not to make more movies where women kill men (although I know there’s a ticket buying population, just is case any big time movie execs are reading this). But what the movie really highlights, and I think even more so than the book, is that Amy has spent her whole life living someone else’s story: first as a character in her parent’s books, as the right kind of sexually available woman (as described in her infamous “Cool Girl” monologue, a testament to Gillian Flynn’s incredible ability to pinpoint a certain kind of anti-feminist feminist screed directed at other women as well as the patriarchal culture that creates those women), as the right kind of girlfriend, and it’s her role as the right kind of wife that does finally undo her. Marriage is, for a certain kind of viable women in a certain kind of culture, presented as the last stop for your own relevancy. Your marital status becomes a symbol of virtue, of value, at the same time it removes you from the pool of women ethically and morally available for fucking.”

Pretty unnecessary (Lindsay King-Miller, Bitch Magazine, 2014): sobre a importância colocada na beleza.
“If we insist on the primacy of beauty, doesn’t that give the word “ugly” even more power to cause us harm? For years now, fat-positive activists have insisted that the word “fat” is morally neutral; that if you don’t need to be thin to be considered a worthwhile or complete person, then “fat” isn’t an insult, just a descriptor. Similarly, the answer to an oppressive and arbitrary beauty standard should not be to insist that everyone is beautiful, any more than the cure to weight stigma is to declare that everyone is thin. It is to resist and counter the notion that thin and beautiful are the only acceptable things to be.”

American horror in New Orleans (C.W. Cannon, The Rumpus, 29 jun. 2014): sobre medo, terror, New Orleans, raça e história.
“It’s not that New Orleans or the south is unique in the interconnection between suffering and sublimated aesthetic enjoyment. As Walter Benjamin put it a hundred years ago, “There is no document of civilization that is not also a document of barbarism” (Benjamin, Illuminations, 256). It’s just that Americans have designated the south, perhaps especially New Orleans, as the anti-Jerusalem of American sin, therefore American horror. The problem with being from New Orleans is that there isn’t sufficient emotional distance to enjoy it.”

Pretty Little Liars and TV’s girl problem (Dylan Leahy, xoJane, 25 nov. 2014): sobre a maravilha que é Pretty Little Liars.
“PLL explores this theme by filling every frame, every scene with confusion and fear. The world of the show is a fever dream of the process of growing up as a teenage girl. Your secrets have the ability to tear you, your friends, your family, apart. Every man is a potential predator, a problem that only becomes worse once you fall in love with one. And, in the world of teen girls, the only thing more dangerous than men is other teen girls. They’re the most powerful players in the game.”

The parable of the unjust judge or: Fear of a nigger nation (Ezekiel Kweku, The Toast, 25 nov. 2014): sobre Michael Brown, raça, medo e violência.
“And this, ultimately, is the logic of respectability politics. That respectability politics is the narrative of the oppressor digested and regurgitated by the oppressed is obvious. But we shouldn’t dismiss it without understanding its allure and durability: it reframes the terms of power, restoring agency into black hands. For the black upper class, it is the parable that allows them to rationalize their privilege as a sign of their own worthiness, while simultaneously giving them cover to righteously withdraw concern from the plight of the less fortunate of their race. It’s no coincidence that the black people advocating for blacks to somehow be cleansed of their blackness by bathing in the waters of post-racial healing are many of the same complaining that “we” don’t pay attention to “black on black crime”. For the black middle class, respectability becomes an aspirational fable, a promise that they, too can be free of racism if they become successful enough to transcend their race. For the black underclass, it becomes a morality tale that explains their own destruction. Respectability politics is a false narrative, but it maintains its power because, like so many powerful lies, it sits adjacent to the truth and set slightly askew: they are looking for a way to turn you into a nigger, and if necessary, they will find one. You will never leave a body pure enough to not be judged complicit in its own destruction.”

Why I don’t gender people (s.e. smith, This ain’t livin’, 24 nov. 2014): sobre designações neutras de gênero.
“This may make me come off as a frothing at the mouth, PC-obsessed liberal. I’m okay with that. Because basic human decency never strikes me as a bad thing, and erring on the side of caution to protect people from harm seems entirely reasonable. I don’t want to hurt someone by erasing racial identity, disability status, or gender — nor do I want to harm someone by assuming something where it isn’t. If I was describing Anna Hamilton in an image, I’d call her a white disabled woman with a cane, because I know all of these things to be true. If I didn’t know her, I’d call her a light-skinned person with a cane. The same general description is conveyed, allowing someone to understand what the image depicts, but I haven’t unwittingly misdescribed the person — perhaps the person doesn’t ID as disabled, for example, or isn’t actually white.”

Eu escrevo como mulher, sim (Luisa Geisler, O Globo, 22 nov. 2014): sobre #leiamulheres2014 e o machismo do mercado editorial.
“Já me disseram que eu “escrevo como um homem”, como um aplauso. Ouvi isso, com tom de elogio sincero, um olhar de li-teu-livro-e-analisei-com-calma. Já ouvi: “não gosto de livros escritos por mulheres, mas gostei desse” ou “não achei que mulheres podiam escrever assim”. Elogios sinceros. Ninguém com uma mochila cheia de tabelas e planos para mandar as mulheres de volta para a cozinha. Meu favorito é “você não escreve como as outras mulheres”. “Na verdade, eu escrevo como mulher, sim. Você que é babaca mesmo”, é a resposta que tenho pronta.”

Hey mama (Kiese Laymon, Guernica, 17 mar. 2014): sobre raça, família e as políticas de respeitabilidade.
“Mama, you always say that. How am I supposed to hug myself?
You hug yourself by not allowing haters to distract you and by believing in yourself. You hug yourself by practicing the speech of respectability.
Oh, lord. Mama, some people theorize about the politics of respectability but the crazy thing is how that’s literally your theme music. How are you gonna sing your own theme music, though? I don’t care about the speech of respectability. Respectability ain’t got nothing to do with me.”

Nobody wants to be the girl on a diet (Lauren Bans, The Cut, 17 nov. 2014): sobre dietas, esforço e expectativas de beleza.
“So how do we win? We don’t. Rather, we choose. I just moved to a new city. I need to go out and make friends. Friends are made over wine. I’m not going to be the woman who suggests a CrossFit lunch date. Los Angeles has enough of those people. If dropping 15 pounds means canceling all future dinner dates, developing fake sudden-onset allergies to alcohol and gluten, and buying a food scale, I choose 15 pounds. And a new GP.”

There’s a robot asleep on a comet right now. In more important news, Kim Kardashian (Hannah Weverka, On the worn-out heels of Kerouac, 17 nov. 2014): sobre ódio entre garotas e cultura pop.
“When you’re a teenage girl who hates herself– which is to say, when you’re a teenage girl– you tend to divide other girls into two classes: friends and enemies. It’s almost as easy to find reasons to hate other girls as it is to find reasons to hate yourself. They’re shallow; they’re vain. They’re bitchy. They’re stupid. They’re airheads. They’re materialistic. They only listen to popular music. They only care about clothes and boys. They dress in fashionable clothes; they put on makeup, and they do it well. They probably go out on Friday nights and get drunk. They’re pretty. It’s the girly-girls, you know, the ones who buy the books with the curly pink writing, the ones who wear the dresses, the ones who like princesses. It’s all their fault.”

The beauty bridge (Jia Tolentino, The Hairpin, 10 fev. 2014): sobre sutiãs, beleza “real” e marketing.
“To suggest that there is moral value in accidental beauty because it is accidental is to insist on an essentialism that erases the real complexity of what performing beauty and gender and sexuality means to the millions of people who are invested, for tremendously different reasons, in doing so. Policing and fetishizing authenticity in female beauty is a distraction, a politically blind one when nearly half of transgender people in this country attempt suicide, 87% of LGBTQ homicide victims are people of color, and on and on and on. It is useless to either erase the labor of being beautiful or punish it. The search for the “real” under these definitions will always turn up an answer that is fundamentally meaningless, leaving beauty as the primary mover, chasing turtles all the way down.”

Self-care: in theory and practice (Fariha Roisin & Sara Black McCulloch, The Hairpin, 11 nov. 2014): sobre a importância de cuidar de si mesma.
“This column will be a way for women to talk about what they talk about when they put themselves first. There have been some pervading concepts of “me time”—like, treat yoself—but women, in general, feel guilty about taking time off. The women I admire and read are the women who taught me to sometimes be selfish; to stay me; to be me. Their words came at different moments when all I wanted to do was be someone else. Fariha and I will be talking to women and observing their self care/self love/self self routines. So, if a woman wants us to sit in as she watches a show and eats chips, well then so be it. If a woman wants us to slather on a facemask while we talk to her, then hell yes.”

Srsly (Sarah Mesle, LA Review of Books, 6 nov. 2014): sobre Texts from Jane Eyre.
“The niceness of most men I know makes the claim I am about to make somewhat difficult. But here it is: I am regularly kinda pissed at men. So often, in ways big and small, men suck. You’re not supposed to say that. Being categorically angry with men is unattractive, and it isn’t (given the basic human decency of most men) really fair. What’s worse, being angry isn’t effective. If you’re in the midst of dealing with a sucky man situation, expressing anger about sexism or structural inequality is the surest way to get yourself and your point of view relegated to the “crazy angry lady” category where your tone will be labeled shrill and your opinions summarily dismissed. This is the conundrum many women find themselves navigating: we regularly experience an anger we can only partially credit and only in certain contexts safely or successfully articulate. That anger needs to go somewhere. It needs different modes. It needs, often, satire.”

Sobre a mulher que vai (Bárbara Carneiro, The cactus tree, 23 fev. 2014): sobre mulheres e suas jornadas.
“Eu acredito que a representação está sempre em diálogo com a realidade e que, dessa maneira, uma cria a outra. Se não conhecemos representações de mulheres que vão para o mundo (inclusive em termos metafóricos, porque a coisa é muito mais ampla do que uma viagem) em busca de algo – que muitas vezes não sabem o que é; porque os heróis em geral se lançam em suas caçadas pelo e no desconhecido -, passamos a acreditar que, de fato, trata-se de uma escolha. Que é preciso escolher entre ser livre e ser amada. E isso é naturalizar uma condição. Se o teatro, a televisão, a literatura não falam de mulheres no papel de Ulisses, mas falam de mulheres no papel de Penélope, fica mais fácil pensar que às mulheres cabem ser Penélope, e não Ulisses. Caberia às mulheres o espaço privado, a costura, a espera e a castidade. Aos homens, o mar, o canto das sereias, a amizade com os deuses do Olimpo. Acaba sendo “normal”, portanto, que uma mulher que viaja assista ao fim de um relacionamento, porque é algo que foge da ordem.”

Natalie & Me (Soraya Roberts, The Hairpin, 7 nov. 2014): sobre crescer com Natalie Portman.
“When I first saw Natalie, I recognized everything I could be: perfectly beautiful, perfectly talented, perfectly celebrated. At fourteen, I watched movies all the time, just like my dad and just like my grandmother. On the beach in the summer with the Mediterranean at my feet, I closed my eyes and went to the movies—even in paradise I couldn’t get them out of my head. I took drama classes and made my own film. But I had no talent. When I dropped acting, beauty remained. When I dropped that, Natalie did, a familiar idol, a paragon of my past desires. I no longer wanted those things but I criticized myself for not having them anyway, clinging to a familiar idol. For not being vegan or swimming every day or being beautiful enough to model for Dior. For not being well-read enough to adapt an Amos Oz novel or a Jonathan Safran Foer book. For not winning an Oscar and getting married and having a baby all within the same year. For not actually wanting all of those things.”

What I learned from growing up with Rory Gilmore (Hannah Steinkop Frank, Bitch Magazine, 7 nov. 2014): as lições de Gilmore Girls.
“Despite this setback, Rory not only went on to becoming the editor of the Yale Daily News, but Mitchum tells Rory a season later that he had always believed in her skills as a journalist. Instead of being affected by his words, this time, Rory shakes them off, knowing that they don’t matter. Seeing Rory fail made me realize that despite the pressure of college loans, parents, peers, and professors, it is okay to have setbacks and make mistakes and that even the words of people you admire should never affect how you value yourself.”

Editor’s letter: First person (Tavi Gevinson, Rookie, 1 dez. 2014): sobre mudar, se registrar e se descobrir.
“This year, I graduated from high school and moved out of my parents’ Midwestern home into a New York City apartment and started acting in a play every day, wondering, constantly, what it feels like to bring down that screen. This was for the sake of being onstage but also because I was trying to start my life: How does it feel to exist in a moment, connected to another human being and to the world, without thinking about what it signifies, what it’ll look like in memory?”

On kindness (Cord Jefferson, Matter, 2 nov. 2014): sobre doença, morte e bondade.
“The world takes from us relentlessly. It takes our friends and first loves. It takes our parents. It takes our faith. It takes our dignity. It takes our passion. It takes our health. It takes our honesty, and it takes our credulity. To lose so much and still hold onto yourself is perhaps the most complicated task human beings are asked to perform, which is why seeing it done with aplomb is as thrilling as looking at dinosaur bones or seeing a herd of elephants. It’s an honor to exist on Earth with these things.”

We need to stop waiting for permission to write (Sarah Galo, The Guardian, 9 dez. 2014): entrevista com Ayesha Siddiqi.
“What I’d recommend next is to find your women. Seek out and support, at all costs, women of color and put their testimony above all else. We have to go out of our way to support and value each other. Love is practice; you don’t gain expertise by never enacting it. Whether that’s liking a friend’s selfie, not withholding a compliment from another woman, or publicly supporting a woman who is being publicly piled on to. That just barely approaches equalising what we’re up against.”

Lolita não é uma história de amor (Amanda Venicio, Medium, 5 dez. 2014): sobre as interpretações errôneas de Lolita, e o perigo do narrador não confiável.
“O problema é que o romance é narrado pelo próprio Humbert Humbert. É o narrador quem controla a história, escolhendo o que será revelado e como. Quando lemos Lolita, estamos completamente à mercê de Humbert — assim como Dolores Haze. Os mais desatentos, ou mal-intencionados, tendem a concordar com o molestador, sem perceber que a narrativa a qual têm acesso é tendenciosa. Humbert faz questão de romancear seu relato com arroubos de lirismo calculados para fascinar o leitor.”

A particular kind of self-care: to a year of female friendships (Jenna Wortham, The Hairpin, 31 dez. 2013): sobre amizades entre mulheres.
“Falling head over heels in love with women was a habit I thought I’d thoroughly grown out of in middle school, when a group of about five girls and I color-coordinated our outfits and spent weekends and even some weeknights sprawled out in each others bedrooms. But rediscovering a special kind of female magic that is thick and all-encompassing, supportive and blunt in its realness that eventually gives way to a connection that goes beyond brunch once a month or obligatory catch-up drinks after work. This was real-deal friendship, the kind you probably don’t have time for after you partner up or have kids or both. It’s endless gchatting during the day that turns into texting after work and back to gchatting the following morning, falling asleep in each others beds, feeding each other dinner on Sundays, clutching each other for life in the ocean and at after parties, getting under each others’ skin and sometimes not being all that nice or friendly, but knowing they can handle it.”

How have you made yourself proud this year? (Jazmine Hughes, The Hairpin, 5 dez. 2014): um exercício em autoconfiança (no qual nos inspiramos para essa série do #verãodopoder na Capitolina).
“One question that did make me pause, however, was a retrospective one: “What are you proudest of doing in the last year? BRAG HERE.” I mean, sorry to be predictable, but my first instinct was to say: nothing. I’m not proud of anything, I don’t have anything to brag about, I did better than some but not as good as most, I should basically be hanging my head in shame. This is probably some distant relative of Imposter Syndrome; not just that you don’t feel like you belong anywhere, but that once you’ve been accepted and embraced, you don’t feel like it’s something to brag about. Like, I got some new job this past year?! I went on a book tour?? I spent a lot of time with women who I love and respect and prioritized their friendships over hiding in some dark work cave?!? These are things I should brag about, at least a little bit, or acknowledge that I worked hard for them and that I am proud of them, because humility and modesty is just code for “wait quietly until someone else tells you it’s ok to be proud” and fuck that noise.”

In praise of love: an interview with Amy Van Doran (Meredith Graves, The Hairpin, 5 nov. 2014): entrevista com Amy Van Doran, cupido profissonal.
“”You just do it,” she states plainly. “You fake it ‘til you make it, lovingly. But it’s a muscle, the more you do it, the easier it becomes. Maybe the first stranger you talk to, that’s gonna be a fuckin’ mess. It’s fine. The thing is, people know who they’re into. Even if you fuck up horribly, it’s romantic and charming if you like the person, so you can’t really go wrong. You’re just opening to possibility.””

The importance of angsty art (Jenny Zangh, Rookie, 11 abr. 2013): sobre arte “ruim” adolescente.
“The more English classes I took, the less pleasurable it became to read and write. I started to dread it. I started to take fewer risks. I started to become concerned with matters of taste. I started giving a shit what other people thought. It was like becoming a teenager all over again, a time when the more I understood about the world, the more fearful and timid I became. It was like when I wore a white crotchet sweater in sixth grade without a bra and my friends were all like, DAMN, I CAN SEE YOUR NIPPLES, and my awareness of my own body suddenly soared and I went from jumping around the playground without a worry to agonizing over getting dressed in the morning, because once I knew that the way we dress invites scrutiny, I could not forget it. The same with my writing—I couldn’t forget what I was learning, and the more I learned, the less free I felt.”

Tilda Swinton is in a world of her own (Zach Baron, GQ, dez. 2014): Tilda Swinton, mulher do ano.
“”I spent a lot of time thinking that I was some kind of foundling,” Tilda Swinton says, answering a better question than the one I asked. “That I had been a changeling, that I had been found under a bush somewhere, and that I couldn’t possibly be kin—but the more I live, the more I feel absolutely like I come out of my family. I’m a sort of strange natural progression.””