A famous screenwriter once tweeted, “If you don’t have a bad guy in your story, you just have a dirty piece of paper.”
Jesus had Satan, the evil sins of man and the Romans. Luke had Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine and the stormtroopers. Kirk had Kahn, the Klingons and his own ego. Each story always conveyed a sense of dread and foreboding, personified by an all-powerful entity seething with rage and malevolence. Keep Reading
So Harvey Weinstein is in the firing line for multiple claims of sexual harassment by many people. By women who have experienced encroaching encounters with the film producer, and many men who claim to have witnessed the same.
And I’m putting my money where my mouth is after my last article about Casey Affleck, as this time around there has been evidence of Harvey’s alleged crudity released to the media: Keep Reading
I find that my relationships tended to always be one-sided. Either my ex-girlfriends, any of them, would be hormonal, raging lunatics with paranoid schizophrenia and multiple personality disorders ranging from “delightful” to “get me strawberries in winter”.
Or, controversially, very good people that required I look up now and again from my phone.
Thankfully, I’ve grown up now and in the loving embrace of a partner that, a. takes delight in seeing me venture into a debris of silliness and b. encourages myself in all my cheer and melancholy to welcome her along with me.
We’re a fun bunch, especially and specifically with each other, and less importantly with other people who take heart in knowing that we will leave the room a little lighter but vexing in uninformaty.
“What, you’ve only fought once in a year?” That’s right, yes we have.
This may take you into a mind ethic you didn’t need, but sex between us is not a chore. Not for me, at least. I was expected, even required, to perform both in the art of sex but even in it’s preparation. Foreplay, as you no doubt are aware, is not an addendum in the dating contract, but a requirement blaring at you with sirens and bells.
And before, it was as extrenuous a duty as putting the kettle on in the morning.
But now, it’s as fun an activity to pursue as hiking. Yes, in both I’m climbing and someone’s grunting, but now you get to stay put and watching Star Trek together in the doggy-style position, a feat no human should die without trying.
And the art of dry humping is so lost today. We take it for granted because it doesn’t sound as romantic or enticing as candles in a bath and aromatherapy pulsating through the air. No, dry humping starts the show and gets the fireworks going, right before the crescendo and the throngs exit left.
I have strived to remain neutral in this world of men and women, my body slowly decompressing into a fested mush of chocolate and coffee (the two staple diets of a procrastinator), unfit to join those that think that visiting Rocque Gym is as important as using a toilet to pee. But now, instead of complying with the multitudes, I’ve found my ideal partner.
A woman that makes sense of the insular world I live in, a companion with her own subtle quirks that make me fall in love with her again, over and over. She’s a blessed angel, a perfect hegemony of form and flavour. Without her, chocolate and coffee might as well be the MTV music channel…with no music.
So your boss wants to know 7 things about South Africa, but is completely too afraid to ask.
And we’re talking relevant questions by the water-cooler in case he looks stupid or worse. Like bankruptcy, divorce and gout.
Don’t fret though, here’s a fantastic list of alternative facts about South Africa you can pass along to your employer in the form of an anonymous Post-It note sitting underneath his mouse. Keep Reading
I’ve been thinking about all the internet junk we leave behind and how it amounts to digital pollution.
It’s like the garbage bags that float in the ocean or the space debris that orbits our planet. We create and leave behind so many email addresses, dating profiles and competition entries.
You know that every time you create a fake Facebook account to stalk your ex, someone out there has to switch on a server? A server that requires electricity, air conditioning and extra RAM, just because you need to see how happier she is without you?
We also forget the other possibility that with all this information we keep feeding into this beast could fill it up. What if one day we’re all signing up to a new form of social media and the Internet sends us all a message that says “insufficient space.”
And in voice we’ll all yell, “Awww fuck,” in so many languages.
Tomorrow I wouldn’t mug you for your car, I’d mug you for your email address. The government will send out messages, “please delete your unwanted Twitter accounts. For only 1 Gig free, you can provide an African child with an untapped source of self-esteem issues, and the opportunity to achieve unsustainable relationships…online.”
Ok, so it’s not quite possible for the Internet to fill up. But what if the Cloud acts exactly like a Cloud? When it gets heavy with water, it begins to rain. What will The Cloud do? Will my computer burst open and out will Coe this huge avalanche of cat videos, blog posts and dick pics hitting you in the face?
My question is would you prefer a big picture of a dickpic hitting you in the face, or a picture of a huge dick hitting you in the face?
Casey Affleck has been slammed in the media and social commentary for winning an Oscar award, since he’s been accused of alleged sexually harassment by two employees.
He was accused of sexual harassment. Allegedly. Not proven or convicted.
In this post my girlfriend sent me by Sady Doyle, this voice of reason hosted by feminist-brandishing magazine Elle condones that “if the allegations are true, more and more women will be forced to work with Affleck despite the danger he poses to their physical safety and mental health“.
So she pre-empts with confirming that nobody has proven the allegations, but leads further with warning women off him regardless.
That is the male equivalent of slut-shaming and therefore sexist. Well done.
For those who argue that it isn’t the same thing…you’re right, men don’t suffer from slut-shaming, we’re applauded for being promiscuous. But women hardly suffer from being labelled “sexual harassers” either, and it happens to men too.
While women are being automatically derided as victims, men are automatically labelled as predators. Society says so, surely it must be true?
I’ve been accused of emotional abuse, a form of sexual harassment, by an ex-girlfriend recently. She posted on our comedian channels and on her own Facebook page that I was narcissistic, controlling and a sociopath.
I know I’m not any of those things, and I even showed these to my loving partner prior to the initial birth of our relationship. So far, things are completely strong between us and she finds me nothing but understanding and caring.
And, of course, nothing come of it since I’m not a celebrity winning awards or being celebrated for my first ever major accomplishment. No profit from it, I’m afraid, sorry.
Still, if I was, this would cloud it and show up to ruin the party. Even if it did reach anywhere, it would be with the comedy community, the people who provide me with the opportunities to perform as a comedian talking crap on stage about the “last 10% of my own fucks to give” or “my girlfriend starting playing my Xbox.”
So far though, it hasn’t. Everyone knew her and had their own opinion, and most of it wasn’t favourable. None of it came from me as I enjoyed her company and was sad she ended our relationship.
But to then, 2 years later, begin a slur-ranting phase about me without proof or provocation, it amounts to slander.
With Affleck’s case, it’s about two women that accuse him of making their working lives hell, and he eventually settled out of court. Mind you, Sady does bring up many proven examples (Mel Gibson, Roman Polanski, where’s Chris Brown), but argues his conviction without the facts being proven.
Here’s where I’d write Sady’s line a little more accurately.
If the allegations were proven to be true, Casey Affleck should pay restitution financially, therapy and rehabilitation, and even jailtime. He should also return his award as it was gained on the backs of those that suffered under him.
If the allegations were proven to be false however, we should forgive him and apologise to him for slandering his name after having worked so hard to achieve one of Hollywood’s highest awards.
Meanwhile, we will never know until the next time it MAY happen.
This isn’t a case to defend Casey against the naysayers that believe he did it (and oh boy, they do), because I have no idea. No one has come forth with proof showing Casey saying those words or being a dickhead.
He probably is a dickhead. Most people are. But until we prove his sexual harassment, we have to defend his rights to freedom of expression as much as we should to every woman, every child and every man that walks amongst us. just as much as we expect everyone else to do the same for us.
As for my case, I know what emotional abuse is though, I suffered it recently and glad I came out of it, but to slander in public with no proof means nothing, especially from me.
No, I’m calling the pitchfork-wielding villagers out for getting their facts straight and promoting hysteria. You’re not fake news, you’re being Fox News. Stop it.