[Spamming in its entirety because it’s probably closer-to-the-bone true than stuff like Meryl Streep’s protestations of ignorance.]
So, uh, yeah. We need to talk about Harvey.
I was there, for a big part of it. From, what, 1994 to the early 2000s? Something like that. Certainly The Golden Age. The “PULP FICTION”, “SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE”, “CLERKS”, “SWINGERS”, “SCREAM”, “GOOD WILL HUNTING”, “ENGLISH PATIENT”, “LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL” years…
Harvey and Bob made my first two movies. Then they signed me to an overall deal. Then they bought that horror script of mine about the Ten Plagues. For a lot of money. Also bought that werewolf-biker script. That no one else liked but was my personal favorite. They were going to publish my novel. They anointed me. Made it so other studios thought I was the real deal. They gave me my career.
I was barely 30. I was sure I had struck gold. They loved me, these two brothers, who had reinvented cinema. And who were fun and tough and didn’t give an East Coast fuck about all the slick pricks out in L.A.
And those glory days in Tribeca? The old cramped offices? That wonderful gang of executives and assistants? All the filmmakers who were doing repeat business? The brothers wanted to create a “family of film”. And they did just that… We looked forward to having meetings there. Meetings that would turn into plans that would turn into raucous nights out on the town. Simply put: OG Miramax was a blast.
So, yeah, I was there. And let me tell you one thing. Let’s be perfectly clear about one thing:
We know you think you know our culture. But you don’t know the half of it.
Jalisco, Mexico
Oaxaca, Mexico
Chiapas, Mexico
Yucatan, Mexico
Guerrero, Mexico
Veracruz, Mexico
And that’s still not even the half of it.
Look at those colors! I’ve been to Mexico, but I only went to the touristy part of the Yucatan where I stayed at an all inclusive where I could get any kind of food but Mexican.
Antique quilt Drunkard’s Path (fan pattern variation) – hand pieced, hand quilted flour sack fabrics c. 1935
This is the kind of quilt my aunts made as I was growing up and were all over my grandfather’s home. My first image when I think of quilts is patterns and fabrics like this.
The worst job in Hollywood right now isn’t damage control at The Weinstein Company. It’s publicity at DC/Warners.
The Justice League promotion junket is starting its rollout. Trailers, television appearances, etc. The movie’s got a lot riding on it – will it be able to build on the momentum of Wonder Woman or be more of the same darkly-lit confused murkiness from the earlier films? How will it fare against Thor: Ragnarok, its competition by proximity, and then against the canon of the MCU? Will it make the Superhero Movie Fatigue meme return in force? It’s a big deal.
But instead of simply trying to turn Gal Gadot’s SNL clips viral, the PR department is instead handling this:
Hollywood is very good at making stuff go away. It’s why we have a Harvey Weinstein problem in the first place. But there are some problems that can’t be made to magically disappear and, right now, at this very moment, Males Misbehaving Toward Women In Hollywood is magic-proof.
Momoa’s rape joke isn’t new news, but it’s relevant now in a way it wouldn’t have been up until last week. Remember Jeremy Renner and Chris Evans being dickish dudebros during the AoU junket? It was a tempest in a teapot, over in a flash. While Renner and Evans apologized (or ‘apologized’ in Renner’s case), there wasn’t even a consensus that they’d really needed to – women just can’t recognize a joke and obviously they’d been joking. Up until last week, Momoa had benefited by the same standards because he, too, had obviously been joking. Now… Now there is work to do to make sure Momoa’s Q-rating doesn’t dip too far that it can’t recover before next month. Gadot can’t be the only one movie-goers actually like.
(Affleck, as usual, is in a shitstorm of his own making. And Jennifer Garner doesn’t have to waste any more of her capital cleaning it up unless it touches their kids.)
If the last couple of days have done anything, they’ve highlighted how much more actresses have to put up with than unequal pay. And they have started to turn the spotlight from H Weinstein to all of the men, big shot and small fry, who have benefited from a system where their privilege was so thoroughly baked in that they didn’t even see it. Or, why so many never noticed any bad behavior that was probably happening in their proximity.
All of a sudden, deeds count as much as, if not more than, words. The internet never forgets, not con appearances that were filmed on a phone camera or outtakes of long-dead cable shows. And the women who’ve suffered don’t forget, either. “I have to be a feminist, I have daughters/sisters/female friends” doesn’t get your Ally Card punched anymore.
I’m honestly asking, if you never read anything else of mine, read this.
I suspect, and sure, I could be wrong, but I very highly suspect that I am not alone in being drawn to h/c in part because I’m kinky. I’m sure lots of people have different reasons for liking it. Hell, I have lots of reasons. I am more than just my sexual proclivities.
I know what it means to slowly figure out that you are “wrong.” That you want to hurt someone. That you want someone to hurt you. That you want both. (You’re not wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you. I also know how hard that is to believe. I’m heading to 40 and still working on it.)
And I know what it is to be part of a community *cough*fandom*cough*, that fetishizes kink while also harshly judging it. I know what it is like not knowing where a safe space or even a safe person might be.
Let me tell you a fact. Most of the women I’m friends with in the scene are submissive/masochists (s-types). The scene is highly heteronormative, and whether it is socialization or not, most women who are into kink are s-types who sleep with/desire men.
Let me tell you another fact: of all the female s-types I know, with the exception of one, all of them, literally ALL of them, have been involved in abusive relationships because, in the absence of knowing how to find what they actually want/need, in a world that tells them they are damaged and faulty for having these desires/compulsions, or at BEST tells them that responsible D-types look Like Christian Grey (who is obviously the way he is because he IS damaged and also, wow, no), female s-types will almost always take what they can get. And abusive assholes are a dime a dozen and always on the prowl.
Jews have a whole bunch of beliefs around tikkun olam, that is, repairing the world. One of them is if a person saves a life, that person saves the world. I, personally believe that goes to “smaller” things. Things like making sure people are fed, homed, safe.
I don’t have a big following. I never have, and I presume I never will. But people who enjoy h/c sometimes know me. And maybe they know other people who like h/c. And maybe there are people in that group, or people known to people in that group who are struggling with figuring out they’re kinky and might not have anyone to talk to, might not know how to play safely. Please, please see if they’re willing to talk to me. PM me with a sock puppet, have someone contact me as an intermediary, I don’t care. Just, if you don’t have anyone else safe to talk to, please, please talk to me. Please.
And to think everyone’s about to be praising him for his Aquaman role..
Jesus
Was wondering when folks were going to remember this bit of history
It’s honestly killing me that it took til 10/12/2017 for twitter to get ahold of this video from like 5 years ago, which I remember people bringing up again last year when he was cast for Aquaman and NO ONE IS ACKNOWLEDGING THE SLUR HE HAS IN HIS INSTAGRAM HANDLE like Momoa been trash, is trash, and looks like he will always be trash.
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