A documentary on Kathleen Hanna called The Punk Singer.
Posts tagged can i get a fuck yeah?
Lol at people who are excited about the the new Captain America movie and talking about how they are big fans of Captain America, yet have no clue as to who Winter Soldier even is. Lol indeed.
You do not have to read all the Cap comics back to the 60s to be a fan of Captain America. You do not even have to read the most recent comics to be a fan of Captain America.
If you like Captain America, you are a fan of Captain America.
Some people love the movies but don’t read comics for a lot of reasons. Maybe they have trouble with the formatting, or prefer to read text instead of the mixed medium that comics is. Or maybe they want to remain unspoiled about the identity of the Winter Soldier. It doesn’t matter. There is no right or wrong way to be a fan of a thing.
When you sit there and “Lol” at people who don’t know as much as you do about a thing, you’re really just making yourself seem arrogant and rude and dismissive of all the awesome new people that may just be starting to like something, and have a whole road of discovery ahead of them.
You could reach out and make new friends by going “Oh, you don’t know who Winter Soldier is? LET ME TELL YOU THIS COOL THING.” Instead, you’ve chosen to laugh at people and make fun of other fans.
So instead, I’m going to Lol at entitled fanboys who think that they’re the only kind of fan worth the time.
I think this all goes back to the idea of what fannish pursuits are considered worthy - knowing a lot of facts and statistics and history about a character, for example, is lauded as the mark of a “big fan,” while making fanart or writing fanfic or just posting pictures and talking about how much you love a character because of X, Y, or Z is considered “posing” or “pathetic.”
It’s a very gendered dichotomy, to be sure, but it’s also a very stupid one. The sports fan who goes to every home game and sits up in the bleachers and doesn’t actually know the names of everybody on the team, much less the stats — who might not even know some details of how the game is played — isn’t a worse fan than the one who reads and carefully cuts out all articles pertaining to their team and memorizes every play they’ve ever made. And claiming otherwise is nonsensical.
Besides, I’ve noticed that the goalpost is always moved, anyway. For example, I’m a fan of the Lord of the Rings, but I’ve made sure never to mention it to my cousin’s husband, because he’s also a fan, and he has in the past actually tried to quiz me on trivia. When he sneered that I probably didn’t even know what the Maiar were and it turned out I knew, more or less, he then made fun of me because I thought it was spelled with a “y.” So grounds for holding me “not a real fan” were my ability to spell. And… for what? We could have both talked about Middle Earth, he could’ve showed me his awesome collection of old LOTR role-playing stuff (my cousin later showed me, because she’s a kind soul). But I failed an arbitrary test that meant the whole topic was off-limits — and even now when I see him at holidays, he’s careful to bring up the new movies and mention that I only like the new movies because some of the actors are hot. Which - I mean, everyone following this tumblr knows my feelings about that, but I actually do love Middle Earth.
But weirdly, I’ve found a certain amount of pushback from the other side of it, too, which is almost as discouraging. A few weeks ago I was discussing a fic I was working on, and because of the truly insane amount of research I did, I knew all this detailed stuff about the subject (I can’t even remember specifically what it was — dwarf languages, maybe?) and I was going on and on about it, really enthused about all this stuff I’d learned, and my friend just turned to me and said flatly, “You know way too much about this.” It wasn’t said with any meanness behind it, I don’t think, but I’ve been careful not to talk about the research I’ve been doing into fic ever since, because this kind of judgmental attitude is, for me, almost as painful. Because it implies that to get invested in the ones and zeros and facts and histories of a world in order to tell a better story is a waste of time. Write fic? Fine. But researching it to death because you want to write a good fic? That crosses some kind of line.
I guess it’s just that I never know where those lines are, as a fan. On the one hand you get people deciding what you should know and be able to recall perfectly in order to sit with the fans at their fan table, but on the other you can’t reveal you know too much unless you want to only sit at that table and nowhere else. I use this analogy because damn, it feels a lot like junior high.
Elevating one way to be a fan and mocking another doesn’t prompt the “wrong” types of fans to become “right” types of fans - and for the most part, it doesn’t even drive people out of the fandom so you can have it all to yourself. It just makes fans want to avoid talking to you about the thing they’re fannish about in the first place. It isolates you and marks you as one of the bad apples in a good barrel.
And if that’s your goal - if you want as few people talking to you as possible, because you’re so unpleasant about the things they love that they’d rather avoid you altogether? Then… go for it, I guess.
Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?
You know that I do.
Trailer for Marvel’s The Black Widow, coming soon
[Open with Natasha Romanoff seated in Director Fury’s office. Fury pushes a file across the desk to Romanoff. She picks up the file and opens it, revealing a blurry picture of a teenage girl.]
Fury: New assignment, Agent Romanoff. Target is codename Monica Chang.
[Cut to Monica Chang running along a road.]
Fury: [voiceover] We don’t know her real name. We don’t know that she ever had a real name.
[Cut to Chang hiding in a barn.]
Fury: [continued voiceover] Two days ago she escaped from a secret Russian training facility.
Romanoff: A Red Room.
[Cut to two armed men entering the barn. Chang disarms them and knocks them unconscious. Cut to Fury.]
Fury: Possibly the last one in operation. Your assignment is to find the girl and shut down the Red Room. But you’re not the only one after her.
[Cut to Yelena Belova loading a magazine into a gun.]
Fury: Yelena Belova. She’s taken your title, agent. Calls herself the Black Widow.
[Cut to Renee Duval wrapping a chain around a man’s neck.]
Fury: Renee Duval. She’s got a reputation for being especially brutal. They’re both graduates of the Red Room program. Ever run into them?
[Romanoff touches the picture of Renee Duval in the file.]
Romanoff: Duval. We’ve met. Who will be going with me?
Fury: You can have anyone you want. But I thought you’d want this all to yourself.
[Romanoff closes the file and nods.]
[Cut to Romanoff in a long trench coat and hat, walking along a city street at night. A figure steps out of the shadows behind Romanoff. Close up to reveal Yelena Belova’s face. She smiles.]
[Cut to black. The title The Black Widow appears. Fade out.]
A remake of an old gifset I made.
Jamie Chung as Monica Chang, Gemma Arterton as Renee Duval, Holly Valance as Yelena Belova.
Fandom is focus. Fandom is obsession. Fandom is insatiable consumption. Fandom is sitting for hours in front of a TV screen a movie screen a computer screen with a comic book a novel on your lap. Fandom is eyestrain and carpal tunnel syndrome and not enough exercise and staying up way, way past your bedtime.
Fandom is people you don’t tell your mother you’re meeting. Fandom is people in the closet, people out and proud, people in costumes, people in T-shirts with slogans only fifty others would understand. Fandom is a loud dinner conversation scaring the waiter and every table nearby.
Fandom is you in Germany and me in the US and him in Australia and her in Japan. Fandom is a sofabed in New York, a roadtrip to Oxnard, a friend behind a face in London. Fandom talks past timezones and accents and backgrounds. Fandom is conversation. Communication. Contact.
Fandom is drama. Fandom is melodrama. Fandom is high school. Fandom is Snacky’s law and Godwin’s law and Murphy’s law. Fandom is smarter than you. Fandom is stupider than you. Fandom is five arguments over and over and over again. Fandom is the first time you’ve ever had them.
Fandom is female. Fandom is male. Fandom lets female play at being male. Fandom bends gender, straight, gay, prude, promiscuous. Fandom is fantasy. Fandom doesn’t care about norms or taboos or boundaries. Fandom cares too much about norms and taboos and boundaries. Fandom is not real life. Fandom is closer than real life. Fandom knows what you’re really like in the bedroom. Fandom is how you would never, could never be in the bedroom.
Fandom is shipping, never shipping, het, slash, gen, none of the above, more than the above. Fandom is love for characters you didn’t create. Fandom is recreating the characters you didn’t create. Fandom is appropriation, subversion, dissention. Fandom is adoration, extrapolation, imitation. Fandom is dissection, criticism, interpretation. Fandom is changing, experimenting, attempting.
Fandom is creating. Fandom is drawing, painting, vidding: nine seasons in four minutes of love. Fandom is words, language, authoring. Fandom is essays, stories, betas, parodies, filks, zines, usenet posts, blog posts, message board posts, emails, chats, petitions, wank, concrit, feedback, recs. Fandom is writing for the first time since you were twelve. Fandom is finally calling yourself a writer.
Fandom is signal and response. Fandom is a stranger moving you to tears, anger, laughter. Fandom is you moving a stranger to speak.
Fandom is distraction. Fandom is endangering your job, your grades, your relationships, your bank account. Fandom gets no work done. Fandom is too much work. Fandom was/is just a phase. Fandom could never be just a phase. Fandom is where you found a friend, a sister, a kindred spirit. Fandom is where you found a talent, a love, a reason.
Fandom is where you found yourself.
This was once the most common representation of female bodies. The rolls of fat and pudgy bellies existed along with thick thighs and broad hips. Some of those bodies were slim, some were chubby, some were fat, but they weren’t stretched out and smoothed out in Photoshop. They acted like bodies do, they looked real and believable. We lost that somewhere along the way, when people in the fashion business started wiping out any inconvenient fold, making us think they don’t exist and to have them is a blasphemy. Maybe it’s about time we remember they are perfectly normal and everyone has them, sometimes or all the time, no matter skinny or fat.