Yes. I decided that since it’s been a long time since I did any logic, I would brush up on my skills. So today I’m refreshing myself with the laws of application in Truth Trees. Considering I hated maths when I was in school, I really enjoy logic.
‘Fat’ is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her.
I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…
I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’
‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’
What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!
I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.
Nowadays the princesses all know kung fu, and yet they’re still the same princesses. They’re still love interests, still the one girl in a team of five boys, and they’re all kind of the same. They march on screen, punch someone to show how they don’t take no shit, throw around a couple of one-liners or forcibly kiss someone because getting consent is for wimps, and then with ladylike discretion they back out of the narrative’s way.
On the posters they’re posed way in the back of the shot behind the men, in the trailers they may pout or smile or kick things, but they remain silent. Their strength lets them, briefly, dominate bystanders but never dominate the plot. It’s an anodyne, a sop, a Trojan Horse - it’s there to distract and confuse you, so you forget to ask for more.
X Rebirth, while certainly very pretty, and incredibly vast in scope, is, in it’s current form, an utterly broken game. Besides the innumerable bugs and awful optimisation (it’s the only game my computer has ever failed to run smoothly on medium settings), the dialogue is horrendous, the menus are…
FUCK YEAH BITCHES I JUST GOT MY VOTING CARD IN DENMARK, WHO’SE READING TO VOTE IN THE LOCAL ELECTIONS? DAMN RIGHT IT’S ME, MONKEY FLIPPERS. I’M GONNA VOTE SO HARD YOU WON’T EVEN BELIEVE IT - YOU’LL BE ALL LIKE “HOLY SHIT THAT GUY JUST VOTED FOR HIS LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE I BETTER SPEND SOME TIME GETTING TO KNOW HIM BETTER AS A PERSON BECAUSE HE SEEMS TO HAVE A NUMBER OF DISPARATE AND INTERESTING PASSIONS”.
BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF JUST NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I DONT WANNA THIS IS BORING AND RISKY AND EXPENSIVE UUUGGGHHHH FUCKING SOULDESTROYING