Broke-ass hoes, broke-ass hoes, broke-ass hoes, broke-ass hoes

Attending a private liberal arts college made me hate feminists for a while. That's the opposite of what's supposed to happen, isn't it? You're supposed to become deeply ensconced in women's issues, go vegetarian and develop an in intense love of short-haired indie rock chicks while protesting endlessly the use of the word "chick" to describe WOMEN because I am a WOMAN and I will not allow myself to be DENIGRATED by the heteronormative, chauvinistic corporate automaton and be told that I am a helpless baby bird that subsists on PREMASTICATED CORN NIBLETS and possesses no control over my UTERINE. CONTENTS.



People at private liberal arts colleges actually talk like that (well, sort of.) Which raises the question, if you're not a bird, why are you so fucking shrill?

Don't get me wrong, the women who devoted most of their time to the campus feminist group tended to be nice, reasonable people on a regular basis. I just couldn't listen to them talk about feminist issues because after a while, my ears would start to bleed mysteriously. Which is not something I'm proud of. I wanted to fit in. I wanted to learn about the raping penis and modern ways to hate it. I wanted to give my vagina a big cuddly hug. Unfortunately, my arms just weren't long enough, and confusion gave way to resentment. I retreated to the frat house to shake shake shake it to the dulcet tones of "Ass 'n' Titties" by DJ Assault.

But in Spring Term 2008, something amazing happened. Our own Kid Combustible pointed me to the blog Jezebel, and I've been obsessively refreshing the page ever since. The magic of Jezebel is that the site sells itself as "Celebrity, Sex, Fashion For Women. Without Airbrushing." Essentially, it's a pop culture blog that happens to be pro-women. Even better, it's a pop culture blog that I consistently agree with (and that doesn't happen often.) And they're feminists, so I guess that makes me a feminist too.

So. What's the point of this diatribe? Mostly, I've been galvanized by Jezebel's recent coverage of the Sarah Palin debacle. (That's not a Jezebel article, but it should be read nonetheless for reference.) Anyway, they dared to ask the question that has been on my mind since we first heard of Tina Fey's horrible evil twin: why does Sarah Palin blind normal, reasonable women with rage? Personally, I think it's because her spokesman is named Tucker Bounds. What the hell is up with that. Also, I have a hard time enjoying the company of people who are cool with torturing wolves with helicopters and then shooting them to death. Doesn't anyone collect bottlecaps anymore?

And if you're badass enough to aggressively interrogate lupine beasts from the skies, do you need a guy named Tucker Bounds to man your spokes?

But seriously folks. The pros did a good job of explaining why exactly I react so violently to the mere thought of Sarah Palin. And by react violently, I mean I could get pretty into an episode of CSI wherein the team investigates charred remains found in a deserted Alaskan woodland near a business that rents helicopters and AK-47s to wolves and librarians who are fired for allowing people to take out banned books.

I'm just saying, that episode of CSI sounds rather engaging. Think about it, CBS!!

Enough hate, though. The point of this post is to declare my love for Jezebel. For the aforementioned reasons, and also because they introduced me to the video series Target: Women with Sarah Haskins, which in turn led me to one of my favorite shows (albeit one that I can only watch online) InfoMania. Thanks, guys!

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Stuff Hipsters Like: How To Fake Having Read The Infinite Jest

It could be argued that David Foster Wallace's The Infinite Jest is the new Ulysses--at least, in terms of its idolization by cool literary types. At its publication in 1996, the novel met with ecstatic praise of its postmodern structure and language. Today, even the basest literature minor can reference The Infinite Jest off the cuff. If you can't, don't feel bad. Just know that this is why you can't get dates with girls who like Vampire Weekend.

You could read The Infinite Jest. However, it's 1078 indecipherable pages long (including almost a hundred pages of equally unreadable footnotes) and you probably have stuff to do. But don't despair! Here's a list of things you can do to pretend you actually tried.


1. Do your research. There are dozens of reviews of the book online, and the first thing you'll realize is that not even the intellectual bigwigs have any idea what it's about. (This will prove useful later on.) However, reading the reviews will help you get a feel for some basic plot points and the names of the characters. Hint: the main character is called Hal Incandenza.

2. Page through a copy at the local bookstore. No need to buy the thing. Just open it up if you get the chance. Only then will you truly understand what a horrendous slog it is. Also, how the book is structured. Taking a quick look at the structure will give you a few good talking points. Hints: it's separated into mini-chapters, some of which are labeled with a year to suggest time changes.

3. Read or Sparknotes Henry IV instead. When somebody mentions Infinite Jest, launch into a discussion of one of its influences, no matter how obscure. In fact, link it to something completely unrelated that you know about and discuss that. This got me into Hampshire College.

4. Drop some catchphrases. Find a way to work the following into everyday conversation: "howling fantods", "Year of the Trial-Size Dove Bar", "I believe Hobbes is just Rousseau in a dark mirror." Don't understand what those phrases mean? Neither does anyone else.

5. Make shit up. The Infinite Jest is too long for anyone to memorize. Not even David Foster Wallace knows everything that happens in it. Therefore, if you come up with your own subplot, nobody will know. This step is a lot easier if you know the characters' names, but there are so many digressions that any random composite of names will probably produce a character from the novel. If you follow the simple formula: character name + dismal situation in a preapocalyptic future + drug use, you're golden. Mention a word with the suffix "textuality", i.e., intertextuality, metatextuality, for even more points.

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