Batman vs Superman: Yawn of Justice

Batman vs Superman is actually the story of two dudes who can’t communicate at all.

The biggest problem in the plot of this mildly spoiler review is that both Batman and Superman are 10000000% guilty of hubris and neither of them admit it.
I went into Batman vs Superman (or vice versa) Dawn of Justice with the same level of meh as I approach most things that have been spoiled in every trailer, preview and sneak peek that a major movie can offer…which is to say I was passive aggressive teenage girl ambivalent to everything going on.
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The movie opens recreating the events of Man of Steel where instead of seeing handsome Henry Cavill we see WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON Ben Affleck’s Bruce Wayne driving through Metropolis with his woes (and the apocalypse raining down on him and his brand friendly Jeep). From that moment, 18 months ago, Bruceman er Batman is completely team “Fuck this guy”. For reasons not one person on the writing team for this movie can explain or cared to explore, Batman is reactivated across town in Gotham and wages a one man war, tearing through the streets of Gotham like a toddler mid temper trantrum. He doesn’t cause chaos in Metropolis, where the problem ACTUALLY is, but instead just beats mercilessly on petty thugs and crooks. The Daily Planet runs a piece on some asshole with a branding fetish leaving bat brands on the low lives of Gotham in thinly explained attempts to suss out the kinda racist sounding White Portuguese drug cartel and this is how you want to introduce the two leads? I end it with a question mark because I wasn’t even sure if this was an episode of The Wire, Breaking Bad or something else involved drug runners with cool names and thusly confused as to why Batwayne was so obsessed with figuring out who WP was/is because meanwhile here’s Superman doing Superman things like bailing cats out of trees, rescuing Russian Cosmonauts from explosions and otherwise being a god on Earth. Batwayne is every flavor of salty because he immediately zeroes in on SuperKent to figure out why he’s so hunky and dreamy. I mean…why he writes puff pieces on assholes in longjohns.
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Cut to bizarre party somewhere in wherever where Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman (she’s in the movie, did I forget to mention this?) are at a party but the punchline is the dialogue is garbage.
The dialogue is bad.
It’s REALLY a screenwriting 101 script written by casual Wikipedia enthusiast that was then passed off to someone else to polish and instead of actually proofing, they just post-it noted lines in before handing it to someone else and the only things that were filmed were the post-it scenes. The GLUE of a Post-It is what’s holding this mess together and even that isn’t doing much of anything.
Batwayne gets one upped by Wonder whatever her name is and he’s all beguiled and sad. SuperKent is confused because he only has heart boners for Lois Lane who’s given even LESS than Wonder Woman to work with the in terms of whatever post-it plots they came up with for this movie.
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The movie works best if we’re talking about the actual assembly of the JLA versus the grumbling mumbling hulking bros who just can’t get their shit together. The idea that Batman would actively want to beat the shit out of Superman because of damages and loss sustained during Man of Steel is cool and one man doing it is also cool but if he felt he was such a major threat, watching Batman recruit a batch other -snicker- metahumans to understand them and get them on the side of good would be a much more engaging movie than the one we wound up with.
Anyway more talking happens and some fun cameos occur that actually riled up the crowd I was with (we my have been drinking) and that made me want THAT movie, the one I made up with all my action figures and in my head that I hoped Hollywood would rip off. It never happens and that’s where the burden of what DC is doing becomes apparent. The writers (I’m being a savage and saying it was atleast ten people trying their best to mansplain years of nerd lore) tried to do what Marvel has done with four movies in one movie and it shows, good GOD does it show. It’s most apparent with how they’ve glossed over the rest of the league, wink and nods to each member in what is tantamount to a Veronica Mars tribute scene.
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The third act is cobbled together as complete 100% fan service to those poor fools who still think DC as a brand and entity respects them and I for one low key am pleased before I realize that I honestly could give a flying fuck about who wins the Batman vs Superman debate; the one who loses is the rest of us. How?! Man of Steel. We all lost by seeing that grim piece of shit overthought hunk of shit. We got a fantastic opportunity to tell the tale of a man stuck with being a god and spent it grim darkly trying to understand Kal-El’s beef with the world. Superman is an alien, an immigrant and we never in any permutation of him felt that loneliness and need to belong, to be respected; we have only ever gotten his god amongst men perspective. Conversely, Bruce Wayne is the little orphan shitshow that could. They are men burdened with being men who want to save a broken world but on their terms. In short, there’s not real risk choosing Batman or Superman; they’re not the dudes you want but the options you have. It’s basically like the 2016 elections so…
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Then, there’s Wonder Woman.
In the Synderverse she’s every humorless woman any basic fuckboy has told to smile; she hates everyone and would gladly squeeze the last breath from their lungs if it meant one less useless cretin in the world.

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So basically I’m in love.
She’s actually the reason to see this. With almost no dialogue, Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman is probably the best part of this 2 hour therapy session. She stares a lot, analyses and disappears. When she appears, the theater erupts. I look forward to the one time I pay for this movie to experience that euphoria. The masses demand a woman who doesn’t give a fuck; that solves a problem and shrugs when everyone else is completely flummoxed.
Remember in IronMan 2 when Black Widow was completely down played? Same problem. Many a think piece is being written about how women in these movies are completely bypassed (merchandise and actual focal point) so really, it’s done and over with but honestly…
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The final sequence happens exactly as you would expect a video game or a great weed fueled story to go. Fast, mad cut scenes, bright lights, fan service and of course hero shit. There are no stakes raised, no sense of loss or gain in this as you watch it, just a lot of “cool” or “they should’ve cleaned that up more in post” and “that’s it?!” There’s no sense of ramped up world building that follows movies like this, just the simple nod and “I saw that it was ok” and then onto the next one.
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When the movie ended, my nerd cohorts all puzzled over where to go and if we should keep drinking; no one was bothered by the movie, there was a sad sense of acceptance. We knew it would blow but we didn’t expect to ALL be devastated by how truly bland a movie it was. It just washes over you in a wave of sad feelings.
As I walked out and had a drink with a coworker we spent more time arguing how good Marvel was at these movies than DC and a MAJOR conclusion was met; DC banks heavily on the name recognition while Marvel wants to seduce into their world and keep you there for as long as possible. Superman vs Batman only holds the door open long enough for you to walk in, have your ass smacked by the swinging door and by then you’ve already lost time and money to whatever is happening.
There’s no investment in your delight or engagement, just simple shrugging and plot holes. It’s terrible that the Snyderverse/Nolanverse is grim tones and too much reality for people to handle; the joy of these properties is that there is someone out there watching for us and protecting us from ourselves and the things that endanger us all. There’s no mirth or joy in this universe which is why it’s funny to think the heroes are so dark while the team on Suicide Squad clearly snorted alot of cocaine in Scarface’s Miami and candy coated the most violent batch of lunatics. Juxtaposing these two worlds adds to the other issue that weighs down this movie; neither the villains or the heroes seem to be aware of either’s existence. That’s terrible. You’re telling me that Superman was unaware of the Joker gang running the streets of Gotham before the Batman finished him? Superman had to know there was fuckery abounding. For your audience to walk out completely wigging out and confused by what they just watched…that kind of reaction can spell the end times for comic book properties as audiences reach a sympathy level of nope when it comes to how much you can ask a non comic book reader to suspend their belief in things.

Truth be told, the movie will make a shit ton of money and for that, we should be sad because there’s no reason for subpar movies to make that kind of bank and still be considered good. We deserve much better than what we’re getting with this second round of Bat/Sup movies but ultimately the fandom will split; they’ll pick another comic book franchise to get behind that won’t treat them like they’re stupid.

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I hope that Marvel, still humbled by missteps, take this into account when it comes to Captain America: Civil War as that movie hinges entirely on the fandom in both the MCU and comic book universe to really think about who they’ve aligned themselves with because that’s the real problem; Team Cap or Team Iron.

What I Learned – October 16th

This week’s edition is super deluxe with photos, overworking, heart eyes emojis and flames. I loiter in the Javitz Center for New York Comic Con, spend some cash flexing, pull off a few Hail Mary shoots battle a cold and win.

Friday

Day one of New York Comic Con starts with me basically getting wide eyed and overwhelmed. I bought these tickets back in May and here we are, deep in the heart of fall, walking around in a place that I’ve come to know quite well. The show gets bigger every year and this year, by some small miracle, isn’t as crowded. The reason is simple, The Walking Dead have a massive event at MSG and half the thirst traps are there and not at the con.We hit a panel on horror books and during the conversation, she puts her head on my shoulder and I don’t know it’s just…it’s the bees knees.

basically im schmidt

I wind up buying some t-shirts early because, while everyone knows Sunday is the shopping day, I know the shirts in my size will sell out fast. I wind up with an SSR shirt from Marvel, an Agent Carter shirt designed for We Love Fine along with a We Love Fine Toothless tee for Waffle.  I drift back and we head out…but first…I buy my first ever Comic Con branded tee. I need more tees like I need holes in my head. I race to Artist Alley where the delightful Ant Lucia signs my copy of Bombshells #2; I miss Marguerite Bennett and forget to bring my Robbi Rodriquez books but there’s always another day. I pick up and get a signed Kevin Wada Catwoman.

I adore that man and want to be friends.

Saturday

It’s day two of New York Comic Con and Waffle and I are on a tear. So far, we’ve hit early morning panels for ABC Family (soon to be Freeform) screening and panel for Shadowhunters.It’s just as you imagined; attractive teens in impossible situations winning and looking attractive doing it. I’m glad I bring my telephoto lens today, despite the incredibly heavy bag and wind up taking some great photos. Followed by that, we watch some of panel for The Chronicles of Shannara and I take a good photos of Manu Bennett and marvel at the fact that Terry Brooks and Mercedes Lackey basically birthed my love of fantasy. Afterwards, super cool Shadowhunter gear in tow, we wind up on the show floor where I basically go completely batshit insane and pick up shirts and loot crates and Marvel Collector Corps boxes. It’s like reverse Christmas but for me.

We sit in on a pilot screening of a series called Containment…which makes us scream FOUR TO SIX FEET every few minutes because viruses and ew.

It’s funny to think how Waffle and I have fallen into an easy rhythm and maybe it’s because I’m slightly delirious from weird sleep habits but it feels like we’re starting over in a strange way.

I could also be making shit up because I’m an idealist and still believe. We get Five Guys for dinner and I stare at her like she’s the most miraculous thing ever. She is.

I have another one of those weird sense dreams and wind up thinking the universe is working in my favor.

basically the whole weekend

Sunday

The finale. I hit Artist Alley early and get Valentine De Landro’s signature on Bitch Planet one, Marguerite on Bombshells #2, Phil Noto on my Black Widow TB,  miss out on Terry Dodson for Princess Leia 1, miss Stacey Lee for Silk 1, and Azceta for Outcast one but it’s okay because I can’t keep running around Artist Alley and leave Waffle with the kids. So we hit the floor and split up; I get another set of Marvel boxes, miss out on the Funko NYCC exclusive tickets for a Pop Game of Thrones Iron Throne, wind up getting a Jack Skellington with Vampire Teddy from Waffle, get an Ant Man Collector Box (meh it’s okay) Hit one panel that I really wanted to go to, The Women of Marvel and am deeply inspired to do more. I believe I’ll be there soon. I’ve always wanted to work there to be honest and I think it’s the fact that I’m so close to things that I want that I believe I can have them, they are mine and that they are due to me.

there’s a reason why I like this guy

Monday

I end up at work wearing the Wonder Woman cap I picked up and pretend to be atleast fifty percent more powerful than my usual 25 percent so I’m actually running at 75%. Fires are everywhere and I have to run out for a shoot on location with animals.

YES.

Only, it doesn’t work out that way because communication breakdown.

Consolation prize?

Co-worker got Doughnuttery and them donuts are tasty as fuck.

Tuesday

The hits keep on coming as we steamroll through a news day, I run some budgets and I basically start preparing for the gross inevitability of the cold I’ve been fighting to finally win. I start preparing for a shoot on Wednesday in a designer store and realize, I basically do alot and that’s pretty cool.I spend the last two days talking non-stop to Waffle who’s on vacation.

mood forever

Wednesday:

I start early  and wind up in Little Italy covering the pre-launch of a store called Noah. The founder was the creative director for Supreme and I wind up staring at really nice things and listening to a super chill dude talk about how kids are smarter than we give them credit for, it just looks like they’re doing stupid shit because we have old people eyes.

still get off my lawn

I wind up back in the office where we have to prepare for another field shoot, I may have a celebrity in one room but rap time is a real thing. Go figure.

I leave late and wind up Midtown Comics like, four days ago I wasn’t at Comic Con and pick up a bunch of titles to begin the madness next year.

I get home, take a cough syrup bath and knock out.

Thursday

Imagine the longest day.

Now extend it.

So we were basically doing one thing and then wound up doing three things and I’ve gotta tell you, it was elegant as fuck to watch me, Tits McGee running up and down the hall with gear to move from one studio to the other because sometimes interns aren’t the smartest creatures on the production planet.

I was an intern once but I also knew a) when to act, b) act like I knew what I was doing c) get out of the way of the people who knew what they were doing. There’s nothing more heartbreakingly tragic than an intern who doesn’t have basic common sense or the ability to act like they know what the fuck is going on. If you’re someone who’s looking to get an internship, or start working on things, you need to just take a few deep breaths and get your head in the game. You’ve got to make sure you can fake it til you make it, okay?

It’s just really irksome when you basically just blink a lot and watch people running around to build a set and you’re just…there…

Anyways, it gets done and I have to drink more cough syrup to continue my bumpy road back to 75% operational level so I trudge off from work well after my appointed time to leave and get home just as Grey’s Anatomy ends. Tumblr, you never cease to amaze me because them recaps…girl…let me tell you…Callie…you….you’re dating a girl named Penny and you bring her to mutual friend dinner like…off the rip? Naw. You can’t do that.

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Also, SHONDA HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO MEREDITH I MEAN THAT’S SOME COLD BLOODED SHIT RIGHT THERE ALSO ARIZONA YOU NEED TO GET HER BACK BECAUSE TRUE LOVE AND ALL THAT AND I HAVE ALOT OF FEELINGS SOMEONE SEND HELP.

Friday

Sorta low key sorta chilled but still wound up doing work because that’s what I do. I get the car and play Uber for Waffle. I pull up, blaring some music (that new Demi Lovato ain’t bad) and I hand over the aux cable…which she sets fire to. It takes everything in me to not mash my face into her neck and just be like, let me love you all over again.

We wind up at Target where she basically takes advantage of my Uberness and picked up a few things. Again, I may just live in crazyville in my head and basically had heart emojis but I did see a lot of blushing. My internal monolog sounds like this:

Irony being what it is, we wind up seeing two people who we worked with who basically knew we were a thing..or at least had suspicions…and their reactions were amazing. It’s been quite some time since we’ve been spotted in the wild and of course it happens when we’re in the place that started it, not to mention that it was in full view of people who are probably still whispering and wondering if we’re together. I keep having these strange super sensory dreams and they’re all connected and it feels like the will of the universe is finally working in my favor.

I have a great job, a chance to really grow and evolve and then there’s this. It’s been the longest strangest most bizarre week of the year and I’m here for all of it. There’s something about October that is filled with magic. It’s not the pumpkins or spiced lattes or even the fucking season change, it’s just the way the universe and I have worked over the past few years. Waffle and I got together on Halloween, my favorite time of year and since then I get a little wistful for that moment when a spark became a fire and we just burned bright. I like the idea of the phoenix. I like the idea of doing it all over again, better, stronger, braver.

I sneak pictures while we’re at, of all romantic places, Buffalo Wild Wings and make strange small talk about futures while trying to not stare at each other. There’s only a small table between us but it’s a million miles and a dozen people in the entirety of the restaurant but we’re just there and it felt like it was going to be alright.

We are the same people, scarred and changed by whatever it is that people go through and we’re still bumping into each other the way you do when you’re home in the dark. It’s strange and familiar and it’s comforting, scary but it makes things bearable when you know that there’s a light right there that you can flip any time and see the person standing there, just as confused as you are as to why it took so long to find that in the first place.

On the drive home, she takes over the AUX and we’re laughing and joking and just being in the moment and I swear I wanted to kiss her and I think she would’ve let me. I tested the waters with a well time joke about her smile and the blush…

total sidebar, this movie was the first one to accurately describe what it is when you see a girl and just get stupid faced

I drop her off and tell her I’ll text her when I’m home and wind up blurting out love you and she smirked and nodded.

wedding vows forever

So I guess you could say this week was one for the record books.

Now universe, do your thing.

 

May The Dork Be With You

Truly in the great pantheon of nerdom, there is no greater turbo pun besides the beloved It’s Gonna Be May than May The 4th.

Star Wars was released in 1977 and here we are, decades later, still making “That’s no moon, that’s your momma” jokes and gargling like Wookies in the morning. Did George Lucas, the all-father of the universe anticipate this level of absolute nerd? Nope. Not at all. He had the foresight to retain global and domestic rights for the films (before selling to Disney who now owns everyone’s chlidhood FYI) and copyright the term DROID but this level of celebration?

Nope.

According to the official Star Wars page:

One of the earliest known records of “May the 4th” used in popular culture is in 1979, as described here by author Alan Arnold while he was chronicling the making of The Empire Strikes Back for Lucasfilm:

Friday, May 4

“Margaret Thatcher has won the election and become Britain’s first woman prime minister. To celebrate their victory her party took a half page of advertising space in the London Evening News. This message, referring to the day of victory, was ‘May the Fourth Be With You, Maggie. Congratulations,’ further proof of the extent to which Star Wars has influenced us all.”

Once the Internet allowed Star Wars fans around the world to connect with one another, May the 4th soon became a grassroots tradition each year, with fans online and offline proclaiming it “Star Wars Day.”

While the idea of May the 4th did not start with Lucasfilm, the film company that created Star Wars has fully embraced the spirit of fandom that makes the day so special. StarWars.com as well as the official Star Wars social media channels (hashtag #StarWarsDay) help spread the word and showcase fan activity. More and more official partners have offered sales, giveaways and exclusives, and have hosted parties and other activities to mark the day.

May the 4th kicks off a season of celebration, particularly since the month of May has always been important to Star Warsfans. The six live-action movies of the Star Wars saga debuted in May (starting with the original Star Wars on May 25, 1977). The month of May includes George Lucas’ birthday (May 14, 1944), and has been the traditional start date of the popular Star Wars Weekends at Walt Disney World Resort.

With the exciting launch of a new trilogy of movies beginning with Star Wars: The Force Awakens coming in the near future, this day to celebrate the saga and its amazing fans is certain to become even bigger each year.”

It’s become a holiday of sorts with bigger and better things happening every year.

Y’know like a giant light up Millennium Falcon built in less than 20 parsecs (basically fuck you Kessel Run)

Star Wars is as banged up as the ships the films made famous. Sure, it’s battered, scraped, duct taped together but it’s your battered hunk of space junk and you’ll be damned if someone slanders it. That’s why May 4th, the mad up holiday about a made up bunch of people in a galaxy far far away is so much fun; it’s the hokey thing you wanted to believe in because it made the world you lived in seem better. The Force, Jedi, Sith, space pirates, bounty hunters, bun hair dos the whole thing just felt like a place that was real enough to feel welcoming but still made you wary of all the scum and villainy you see in the spaceport. Or the bus depot. While the world may not be perfect, the SW universe reflected that in a way that most movies don’t; where heroes, villains, outlaws and vandals are everyone’s favorite kind of people. Perhaps the most telling thing about the SW universe is that it endured two full generations with no signs of slowing down.

I was in seventh grade when they re-released the trilogy to theaters (with the blast ring that wasn’t in the original…so basically I unsaw what I had seen at the age of 7, the perfectly good explody Death Star, ring free) and was hooked. My mom saw it in it’s original release in ’77. Thought it was good and that was it. there you have two generations of viewers (one who just never let go)

I’m actually sitting in an office, all young professional n wotnot wearing a Star Wars t-shirt, Star Wars (Han and Chewie) vans and my New Era cap (which is respectfully off even though rules are pretty lean here) This morning, venerable Disney morning money maker Good Morning America previewed the cover of Vanity Fair featuring the first look at Episode VII: The Force Awakens. 

I hate mornings but honestly, I was up and eating a peanut butter sandwich and ugly crying at the sight.

Shot by famed photographer, Annie Leibowitz the cover and accompanying piece covers the super secretive process behind J.J. Abrams’ lensflare world we’re familiar with, characters we haven’t met and oh yeah, fucking X-WINGS BEING FLOWN BY CUBANS. Oscar Issac, on hot streak so hot (hot damn) he’s basically slowly cornering the sci-fi nerd market, one move at a time. (Sidebar, I’m excited he’s the second latino in space…Jimmy Smits was the first Puerto Rican. I’ve always wanted to go so I’d be like, third although, Smits’ Bail Organa was the adoptive father to Leia Organa so technically…Princess Leia is Puerto Rican) In any case…

The Star Wars team knows the power of their Star Wars, even going so far as to ensure any and all information related to what is going to be a bigger release than Marvel’s The Avengers: Age of Ultron (lengthy damned title) to maximize on complete and total nerd meltdown. Perhaps it speaks to the power of The Force that after so many years, so many missteps and Jar Jar Binks, the love is still there for the franchise started by a guy who basically took on a complicated dare.

Let that be a lesson to you all: If someone says that you can’t, do it.

May The Force Be With You.

Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens

Star Wars Fans rejoice! Principal photography has wrapped on Episode VII and the great minds behind one of the biggest franchises in the world unveiled the title to the next installment in the series.

 

Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens.

 

Wait.

 

What?

 

When we last saw our heroes, they were celebrating on Endor with the Ewoks (formerly cannibalistic teddy bears, seriously, they tried to eat Han Solo) Luke saw his father, Yoda and Obi Wan because he’d had too much punch and the saga seemed over. The good guys won, the Empire fell and everyone got turned up in the foreset.

 

Maybe that’s what they’re waking up from?

 

Can you imagine a Hangover style Star Wars movie?

 

EXT. DAY – FOREST OF ENDOR

We see the lush forest of ENDOR. Ewoks are tuckered out everywhere, the dying embers of their massive fires smoldering in the early daylight. One of them farts because even in a galaxy far far away farts are funny.

 

We see LUKE SKYWALKER doubled over, throwing up, HAN and LEIA nowhere to be seen.

 

He straightens up, avoiding stepping on their hosts as he walks around the forest floor, puzzled and queezy. He looks up at the sky, where the debris of the DEATH STAR looms.

 

Helluva night.

 

He hears HAN yelling for CHEWIE. He stumbles down the rickety steps from the treehouse, his shirt opened and pants falling down his knees.

 

HAN

Kid! You seen Chewie?

 

LUKE

(looking around)

Nope.

 

HAN

(fixing his clothes)

Oh man, CHEWIE! What the hell happened last night? These little hairballs can seriously party.

 

LUKE

Well, we did give them freedom from the Empire so…Where’s Leia?

 

HAN

(ignoring the question)

We have to find him.

 

LUKE

I’m sure he’s fine.

 

HAN

(Finally looking at Luke)

What happened to your face?

 

LUKE

What do you mean what happened to my face?

 

 

 

Naturally, the whole thing would de-evolve into a madcap quest around the galaxy to find a very drunk Chewbacca and Threepio stumbling around singing very vulgar Wookie bar songs while carrying Artoo like a mechanical keg. Maybe Lando Calrissian can be the Leslie Chow of it all.

 

We can all dream can’t we?

 

I’ll even recast everyone. Why not.

 

Episode VII opens December 2015

Iggy Azalea The Fappening and The Cloud

A lot can be said and has been said about Aussie rapper Iggy Azalea and whether you can live with her or live without her does not take away from the fact that she’s at the crosshairs of what seems to be scorned lover’s revenge.

Jefe Wine or Hefe Wine or grown man who still clings to waning rap dreams is a producer/ person who was involved in Iggy’s early development claims to have a tape featuring the starlet in what was believed to be a private moment. The story alters where her camp claims that she was underage while he claims that was not the case but let’s all agree that it’s gross and continue.

Whether she was under age, consenting or caught on camera for someone’s spank bank, she’s absolutely right in saying that anyone who wants to profit from the alleged sex tape currently being shopped around is in fact a sex offender. Taking to Twitter, the rapper reiterated that she doesn’t have a tape and anyone who tries to sell off whatever they’re claiming is her is wrong.

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From Iggy’s Twitter feed

Since the rant, she’s remained silent, letting her legal team handle the controversy while she promotes her latest single featuring Rita Ora, “Black Widow” and while she’s stayed mum, Hefe Wine (really, that’s his name) continues his media tour defending himself and his actions. Thankfully, no screen grabs have appeared so far and hopefully they will never see the light of day but the fact that the demand for celebrity skin has boomed, culminating with The Fappening. A few days before Iggygate, hackers managed to access sensitive photos of several actresses, including Jennifer Lawrence, in various stages of nekkid selfie, posting them onto online creep capitol 4Chan and Reddit for the world to see.

While CNN demanded to know just WHO 4Chan is (it’s just…it’s the part of the internet the internet wish didn’t exist) normal human beings responded correctly: WHO THE HELL WOULD DO THIS AND WHY DO YOU WANT TO SEE THESE PICTURES?!

It doesn’t matter who the hell 4Chan is, what matters is that there is a place that openly practices the wild violations and fuels the worst web habits out of people.

Mercifully, a massive investigation was launched to find out just who managed to compromise so many accounts and rightfully prosecute them. No one should make money from theft and the hope is that proper legislation is passed to prevent entities like Vivid Entertainment from profiting from stolen merchandise not to mention the fact that this is effectively a violation of these women’s personal and private photos, whatever they are. We care as a culture because they’re famous, this is what they signed up for but the fact is, the same way that Rate My Ex was the bane of average women’s existence is the same way incidents like The Fappening are for celebrities. We should take caution as a culture to be careful about who we share these moments with and where we send these pictures.

THE CLOUD IS NOT YOUR FRIEND.

We don’t understand it. It’s there, but it’s not and it saves all your stuff? What why? Why don’t you just plug in your laptop and download everything, save it in a lock folder and never look at it again. Simple. The Starz Saturday Premiere movie “Sex Tape” made light of the mysteries of The Cloud but I’ve spoken to IT specialists who are completely fucking confused by it. We don’t get it. No one understands how it works and if you say you do, you’re a dirty liar. Just go into your settings, do it right now (leave this tab open) and make sure you disable that thing NOW.

the one time no one wanted a sex tape

 

It’s not just women who send out sometimes questionable things, guys have sent out dick pics and the most that’s happened are “do you even lift bruh ?” jokes. Anthony Weiner, Geraldo, Tito Ortiz have all sent the unnecessary dick pic or shirtless fading masculinity photo that ultimately leaked and they died out on the wind just as quickly as they appeared. For men, it’s a showcase of their masculinity and it seemed almost culturally acceptable for these pictures to appear, because I don’t know about you but nothing says romance like a dick pic. Women on he other hand, have to have this alluring quality about their photos and they don’t ever fade away. Sure I can make a saggy pectoral joke about the guys, but the ladies are forever immortalized in that moment for just how hot they are and are reminded that they will never be that hot again. How we communicate our desires to one another has evolved, especially with how dependent we are on technology for these interactions. Sexting, Skype, Snapchat, we’ve developed a digital language of love that seems to getting bolder and bolder as time goes on. Just imagine when we have holograms.

Hey girl

There’s a sense of one upsmanship that occurs when it comes to letting someone know how you desire them, given how this generation is constantly on the go; we’re never in the same room but if we were, here’s what you should be looking forward to.

Women are subject to far more scrutiny when it comes to the level of sexual explicitness in the confines of their adult textual relationships. The question that comes up most often is, ‘why would she send that?’ We condition ourselves as women to censor our sexuality and the ones who own their sexuality are usually dragged out and shamed. She clearly misbehaved and the photos or video being shared are a direct result of that misbehavior, not the people who received them being irresponsible with them. The people who made something private public aren’t embarrassed as publicly as the subject. In the case of The Fappening, those photos were more than likely meant for the person whom they are involved with, not for the prying eyes of the public. They were taken and sent with trust and for hackers to think that we want to see that is where we as a culture are starting to go down the dark roads in terms of our respect for another human being’s privacy.

Yes, we love to look at other people, especially famous people, that’s what they’re there for and we forget that they are people who just got lucky with either their looks or talent or both. Many celebrities have bounced back and recovered from the scandal, made light of it and continued onward and upward and we’ve forgiven them for the indiscretion. The real problem is that we have yet to figure out just how to stop it from happening and how to stop making it news and wanting to see hot celebs being just like us; we have to be scandalized by it and want justice for that person who’s privacy was violated. We have to put ourselves in their designer shoes and imagine what it would be like to have ourselves plastered everywhere or sold without our permission to the highest bidder. If Kim and Kanye weren’t selling their wedding photos for less than 10 million why shouldn’t someone be able to profit from their own bodies? Remember when everyone went to Playboy when they wanted to show their bits? Those days are gone.

In Iggy’s case, that is straight up no bones about it violation. Whether she was a minor or consenting does not take away from the fact that someone wants to take that tape and make money. In the past, this tactic worked wonders for Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, launching their ‘careers’ in the face of public embarrassment but for every ‘success story’ there are millions of women digitally exploited around the world for the sake of entertainment. There are women who’ve had their privacy revoked by partners and people who claim to have their best interests at heart and ultimately stab them in the back by revealing the photos or videos. It’s not just the dissemination of illegally obtained photos and videos, think about the millions of children that could be in that traffic flow. If hackers can get into your phone and snag your naughty bits, what do you think could be happening to the pictures of kids? If it takes something as large scale as The Fappening to spark the government into truly investigating these cases of theft, then so be it. We can be accountable for ourselves and responsible with our technology but like anything, there are people who truly are up to no good and only want to unearth the things that we want buried or that aren’t meant for anyone else.

We complained about how a U2 album landed on our iTunes last week, we should be complaining about how people want to make money from private moments and stop saying it’s her fault.

 

I’m gonna live under a rock.