You guys, I am not proud of myself about this, but I let the simmering low-level rage that's been my constant companion these last two years get the better of me. I sputtered and fumed and then the customer joined and we started talking about less interesting things like technology and workflows.
For men (well, straight white men) a smart comedy, that remains culturally relevant fourteen years later, written by a woman and about girls doesn't deserve to be called a classic. But those hoary old films by a narcissist and a straight up monster will always, no matter what we learn about the people they were, rest undisturbed atop their pedestals.
I have a theory about why I get so mad these days so easily: I think for the first 45ish years of my life I lived in that go along to get along space; I just kind of went with it that the women will bear the responsibility for making the men feel good, that what the women do will never be taken as seriously as what the men do, and that men will just always be the ones in charge.
And then, of course, Donald J Trump happened and I think I, along with most of the American female population, and thought:
...unsealed the rage spigot, and let it loose. This has left me with a rather large surfeit of rage.
Another thing happened: Jake Tapper was interviewed by America's boyfriends on Pod Save America post SmokeyEyegate (tm me) and he said that while he hadn't seen The Handmaid's Tale, come on, it's obvious Michelle Wolfe was making a joke about Sarah Huckabee Sanders' looks. I'm still mad about that. I can't stop being mad about that.
Ann Dowd is a brilliant character actress who is doing incredible work playing a character who is not just complicit in a deeply misogynist government, but also a true believer who is among its most effective enforcers. The analogy is clear to anyone with even a passing interest in the show. But to Jake Tapper, the only material fact about Ann Dowd is that he himself would not care to have sex with her. I am so offended on Ann Dowd's behalf!
You guys, this interview was a couple of weeks ago. I mean way too long and way too in passing for me to still be mad. But I'm still mad! I'm still so angry at how he pleased he was with himself, how confident he'd earned a brave boy cookie for his whole "I'm just being honest" shtick. And I'm angry that the Pod Save guys, who all knew it was crap, just let it pass without commenting.
And that may be who I'm maddest at, now that I think about it: the nice guys, the good guys, the guys who aren't horrible to women, and who even actually like women, are friends with women, but are also so deep in their own privilege (I'm sorry - I'm starting to hate that word too) that they fail to notice so much.
I'm sorry, I'm ranting.
I think I may start greeting my lady friends with "Hi! How's your rage these days?" I think I may start greeting my male friends with "Hi! You questioned any deep-seated assumptions yet today?"
And I write all this knowing that as a white, straight, cisgendered, able-bodied, middle-class woman, I'm operating at a pretty low difficulty setting. But so long as Donald Fucking Trump, who is the Platonic ideal of the terrible American male, is our president, I can't stop being mad.
