I admit, I didn’t watch the Oscars live. I wanted to, but the moment I rebooted my laptop I was instantly soaked by a social media frenzy—something about Seth MacFarlane and… a song about boobs! I wanted to see what the furor was about. Actually, what I really wanted was to catch the Oscars. But I couldn’t. An online replay of the entire ceremony was not to be found, but a song titled “We saw your boobs” was more ubiquitous than downloadable porn shots of actual boobs. So I listened to it and was at once in shock, thinking—what a catchy tune!!!
No, I really was shocked, mostly by the reaction to the song, particularly from critics whose observations I usually hold in high regard. Even one of my journalistic heroes, David Carr, referred to this Academy sanctioned stunt as “dudeism” and suggested “punching a whole in the theater to let some of that testosterone out.” Maybe he has a point. After all, when David Carr speaks, I usually shut up and listen.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Saturday, February 9, 2013
|Image Credit: Sony Reader Store|
"When the finalists for the (2011) National Book Award in Fiction were announced last month," wrote Ron Charles of The Washington Post, "I’m embarrassed to admit that I was among those critics grumbling about the obscurity of some of the authors.”
For a while, I struggled to make sense of that word. Obscurity sounded almost like an act of weather—a kind of fog that settled spontaneously on women of color and shrouded their writing.
Posted by Steven Volynets at 4:11 AM