rosa_acicularis: (cybermen)
So there comes a time in every fan's life when she (or, occasionally, he) must ask herself the difficult questions -- questions like, "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" and "Do I OTP or multi-ship?"

Because in fandom, as in life, labels are very, very important. If not for labels, how would we know who to judge? If we did not judge, who would we argue bitterly with over meaningless minutiae? The very foundations of our fandom civilization would crumble, or burn, or be crushed by the sudden impact of a metaphorical meteor, and then what would we do?

We would be extinct, my friends. We would die, and in the distant future bored school children would be forced to study terms like "FTW" and "TL;DR" as remnants of a long dead language, and elaborately-coiffed television preachers would claim that our bones were planted in the earth by God Himself as a (really rather idiotic) test for the faithful.

Basically, it would be bad.

but seriously, folks. )
rosa_acicularis: (sycorax rhapsody)
Day Five: A Show You Hate.

Like most people, I really don't bother with shows I dislike long enough to actually hate them. The Bachelor, on the other hand, draws me in once every few years through a combination of circumstance and masochistic fascination. I've had a number of roommates over the years -- in high school, college, and after -- who were devoted to the show, and it sucked me in even as it infuriated me.

I probably don't need to explain to anyone on my flist why this show is disgusting. I hate any reality show that relies on the cat fight for so much of its drama, that misogynist's wet dream that reassures its audience that 1) competition between women always devolves into childish, bitchy tantrums, and 2) it's okay to look down on, slut-shame, and hate women because women hate each other. And all of this heartbreak and emotion and tears, over a man these women hardly know! The show invites you to ridicule even the nicest and most sympathetic of these women (because while they deliberately cast the crazies to incite drama and the aforementioned cat fights, they also include just enough sane, intelligent, likable women to make the crazies stand out), because that's the not-so-secret appeal of most reality TV -- to make the viewer feel superior to the people they're watching. I watch The Bachelor and I think, "Well, I'll never wear a bikini on national television, but at least I'm not a romantically desperate psycho-bitch slut." I hate that voice in my head. I hate it, and I hate that this brings out in me a latent sexism (and thus, a latent self-hatred) that I find so horrific in others.

I swear to god, women are better than this. Women are better than this, men are better than this, and love is better than this. We have to be.
rosa_acicularis: (LoM umbrella)
I have become fiercely discerning in my fan fic reading of late. When I first started in the DW fandom all those many months ago (I had never seen a episode of Doctor Who until this past January. This is almost inconceivable to me now.)  I read almost anything I could get my grubby little hands on.  Now, one reference to someone's "chocolate brown orbs" (meaning, ahem, eyes) and I am out of there.

Which is harsh and terribly judgmental of me (and maybe just the teeniest bit hypocritical) but sometimes life is just too precious and fleeting to read something in which Rose has the vocabulary of a particularly slow nine-year-old and has to constantly ask the Doctor what that big ol' word means, because any word in the English language of more than two syllables won't fit inside her gorgeous, goddess-like little head.


rosa_acicularis: (Default)

September 2012

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