Samuel Beckett observing cat, dog and parrot. 1964.
Photograph by Steve Schapiro.
While he was waiting for Godot
If I’m not mistaken, this was during the shooting of Beckett’s 1965 Film with none other than Buster Keaton. Yes, the title is Film. More here.
replace that pillow with my bosom please
a lot of feelings about the whole “is it or isn’t it okay to make rape jokes” debate
last week, i impulsively wrote a response about the whole daniel tosh bullshit as an opportunity to talk about rape culture, which ended up being shared over 600 times on facebook. shameless chose to close the comments pretty early on since they were really hateful and violent and centered around “what about the men” as opposed to actually addressing the questions i was raising (surprise surprise).
over the past few weeks, i’ve felt really worn down about dismissive and threatening comments i’ve received directly online, or ones i’ve read directed at others. so worn down that to the point when someone asked me how i felt about the responses published on jezebel or whichever mainstream feminist mouthpiece of the moment, i just started to cry. i’m too worn down to even bother reading them in full. i’m too worn down to see the holes and gaps and how frustrating it is that it even when i see some good work being done, it never feels like quite enough.
i’m exhausted, disgusted even, that we have to have these conversations. that people just don’t understand that violence against women isn’t this abstract concept we’re theorizing about, but actual physical, emotional and psychic violence enacted on the daily. then, sunday i actually felt physically ill after watching this video and reading a handful of the comments.
this isn’t about vilifying any one individual comedian, it’s about looking at how rape culture is so pervasive we don’t even see it anymore, we can’t even name it. about when we are outraged, and why.
what can we do to let people see that there should be a basic minimum of respect towards those they disagree with? that mocking them, manipulating them, and leaving hateful violent comments isn’t acceptable just because you are looking at a computer screen and not at a person’s face? what is it about the word “comedy” or “comedian” that leads fans to believe they are absolved of all their sins just because they make you laugh from time to time? what is it about fame, about people who have a public platform, that makes us so much more forgiving?
but back to rape culture and comedy, and how they often go hand in hand. it’s been stewing in my brain for a good week now…
and then i realized i summed up my feelings pretty effortlessly in a run-on sentence comment i left on bitch magazine’s blog. you know what? i don’t fucking care.
maybe if i were more into mainstream comedy i would care… but at the end of the day i’d rather get my laughs from awesome drag kings/queens, witty burlesque performers, impossibly canadian kate beaton comics, and slapstick silent films than bother to wade through all the garbage that is mainstream comedy.
there we go. i said it. i don’t give a shit. keep having your circle jerk conversations yourself in attempts to prove you’re not a “humourless feminist” or a shitty rape apologist, and i’ll keep spending my time and dollars on comedians i actually give a shit about and respect.
the thing i love almost the most about tsar being back on tumblr is that there is 100% more buster keaton on my dashboard.
also this gif pretty accurately reflects how i feel about life right now.
Reblogged for garconniere, though I bet she’s already seen this one.
tee hee hee you totally guessed right! but it makes me happy every time.
happy (one day belated) birthday, buster!