And so is the fact that I like her. My apparent new career as Hillary Clinton’s self-appointed Anger Translator is a weird choice, maybe even a self-destructive choice, but honestly, ask yourself: How long would you make it, if people treated you the way you treat Hillary Clinton? Would you not just be furious, by now? Would you not have reached levels of blood-vessel popping, shit-losing rage, or despair? Because the fact that she’s dealt with it at all, and kept her shit together, is admirable.
I’m currently reading a lot about the way teenagers use social media, partly for my thesis, and partly based on fascination. One of the aspects that interest me in this context is the connection of speech/voice and space in relation to the new possibilities of the internet.
I just finished danah boyd’s great new book It’s Complicated, an in-depth study of kids’ social media use.Teenagers are increasingly isolated by “overprotecting” parents. As danah boyd argues, a result is that physical space where young people can just hang out with peers is vanishing, and the social media platforms give them an alternate space to socialize.
There is also an argument to be made that thanks to social media, “youth as a protected space” is evaporating, it is changing everyone’s self-consciousness. Sady Doyle discusses this aspect in a recent article at In These Times, and points out that young women aren’t “unarmed” in the “social media wars.” Young women are often uniquely equipped to handle the different pressures; for them, the Internet is home turf, they don’t know a world without it. Social media does have good things to offer, creating pro-girl resources like Rookie Mag, Scarleteen, and numerous tumblrs.
Somehow, Wes Anderson has become the Niles Crane of contemporary cinema. He’s transformed himself from an oddball perfectionist into a snooty, pompous fussbudget. Though he still arranges gorgeous color palettes, striking geometric frames, and era-blending visions that are part French New Wave, part Vogue photo shoot, when he sticks his characters into those shots, he barely even lets them move. Human flesh and noise and body language—the stuff that most of us are used to thinking of as “drama,” and the reason we refer to films colloquially as “movies”—have become unwelcome intrusions in Wes Anderson’s relentlessly pretty and static universe.
Sady Doyle takes Wes Anderson’s new movie the Grand Budapest Hotel apart. I haven’t seen it (yet) but I feel like it’s spoiled by Doyle’s valid commentary if I do see it at some point. (Including actual spoilers)
I don’t have a real problem with that, but you might want to proceed to the full article with caution.