Yeah… I don’t know. I kind of hate-recap it. I don’t hate it that much, but I just… I feel like I knew those people in high school, and I hated them in high school, and now they have a TV show. And I’m just like, good for you. You got a show. But then you’ve got the whole culture of “It’s un-feminist to criticize another woman, we should all just be happy that a woman is on television and leave it at that. You guys are just jealous.” So if you say anything that’s critical or against this, you’re automatically painted with that brush. But being a woman doesn’t mean that you’re absolved of any and all criticism — you can still fuck up, and still need to be called out.
But I think that the problem is that people really do identify with Lena Dunham, and so they feel that rightful criticisms of her are somehow a criticism of them — which it often is. I see a lot of the same middle-class, white feminists defending her because, to them, she is finally a chance to see themselves in a more unique, real role on television. She really is doing it for them. But it leaves so many people out of the conversation, and to paint Girls as finally being a story for everyone is so unfair.
I think that having to admit the things that Lena Dunham is doing or saying wrong also means looking at those things in yourself, and no one wants to do that. So it’s easier to defend her in saying that, if you criticize her, it’s because you have a problem with women. It’s the painless way out. And yes, a lot of people have gone in on her, but that’s because for months leading up to the show, they hyped it up so much as the show that was going to change everything. And personally speaking, I don’t think it’s lived up to any of its expectations. I don’t think that it’s nearly as funny as people have been saying, or as different. But again, it’s not a criticism you can make because it is “un-feminist” to make any judgments on it.
But just look at the marketing they do — a 45-dollar set of promotional nail polish, one for each girl on the show. You’re supposed to buy those as a fan. Who the fuck buys 45-dollar nail polish? And they did, like, free blowouts at this really nice salon. Who are they marketing this to? Like, this is not for me. Whoever this was directed to, it is absolutely not me. You are clearly targeting a certain type of person — they know what they are doing. And that’s fine, you have your demographic. But then don’t fucking turn around and tell me how universal your show is and how it’s speaking for everyone. Because it’s not, and you know it.
[TW: Sexual Assault]
His lips crushed mine, stopping my protest. He kissed me angrily, roughly, his other hand gripping tight around the back of my neck, making escape impossible. I shoved against his chest with all my strength, but he didn’t even seem to notice. His mouth was soft, despite the anger, his lips molding to mine in a warm, unfamiliar way.
I grabbed at his face, trying to push it away, failing again. He seemed to notice this time, though, and it aggravated him. His lips forced mine open, and I could feel his hot breath in my mouth.
Acting on instinct, I let my hands drop to my side, and shut down. I opened my eyes and didn’t fight, didn’t feel… just waited for him to stop.
Twilight: Eclipse p. 331 (Bella and Jacob’s first kiss)
This is rape culture.
Young women are taught to think of this passage - which describes sexual assault - as erotic. Young men are taught to force their will on young women, regardless of any (non)verbal cues, because sex is conquest and women are objects - not something to be done between two consenting individuals because it’s pleasurable for both people.
The most frightening thing about this excerpt is that many survivors of sexual assault who have disclosed to me describe stories that sound exactly like this one.
tumblr user clockward submitted this to us. read at your leisure.
The lines before that:
He still had my chin—his fingers holding too tight, till it hurt—and I saw the resolve form abruptly in his eyes.
“N—-” I started to object, but it was too late.
And after he assaulted her she punched him in the face but due to his “super human strength” she broke her hand, said “Don’t touche me!” and then:
“Just let me drive you home,” Jacob insisted. Unbelievably, he had the nerve to wrap his arm around my waist.
I jerked away from him.
When he got in the driver’s side, he was whistling.
AND THEN while he was driving:
“…There is so much I can give you that he can’t. I’ll bet he couldn’t even kiss you like that—-because he would hurt you. I would never, never hurt you, Bella.”
I held up my injured hand.
He sighed. “That wasn’t my fault. You should have known better.”
He grinned over at me. “You kissed me back.”
I gasped, unthinkingly balling my hands up into fists again, hissing when my broken hand reacted.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I did not.”
“I think I can tell the difference.”
“Obviously you can’t——that was not kissing back, that was trying to get you the hell off me, you idiot.”
He laughed a low, throaty laugh. “Touchy. Almost overly defensive, I would say.
I took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with him; he would twist anything I said.
Then when she gets home, to where her father, Charlie, the police officer, is:
“Why did she hit you?”
“Because I kissed her,” Jacob said, unashamed.
“Good for you, kid,” Charlie congratulated him.