rgr-pop:

I. Because this song is straight-up about teen sex, which is great:

I feel delirious, come let’s get out of here
we’re so anonymous but it’s all coming clear

II. Because wat.png:

we’re headed for the sky,
and we’ll get lost in it

III. Because unrelenting narcissism and unapology forever:

all I want, all I want, all I want is everything

IV. Because there is seriously someone being paid to pen these lyrics, and it’s not even Victoria Justice:

all I want is everything
yes everything

V. Because hyperconsumption:

too much is not enough

VI. Because teen sex, again:

as long as it feels right, at least we know that we’re alive
all I want is everything yes everything
we don’t ever stop, let’s watch the sun come up

VII. Because there is a God, and he looks like this:

we’ll sleep when we’re dead ‘cause
halfway kinda sucks

VIII. And because wat.png x infinity, are these even lyrics:

it’s me and you, me and you no matter what
whoa oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh

i cannot get out of this bed, i have to get out of this bed, i need a manicure and i also need a keratin treatment and i wonder if i can get them for free or if i am finally too academic for that and i cannot bear to put on rain boots for two days in a row and i think i am just going to have to wear heels in the rain and i am into rgr’s passion for this song and video (this has definitely been posted before or else how would i know about it because tumblr is my main news source) and “halfway kinda sucks” is a good line and this is an inspiration post. 

3 May 2012 / Reblogged from rgr-pop with 6 notes / inspiration post 

24 Jan 2012 / Reblogged from womenasobjects with 89 notes / 90swoman inspiration post 

committing to my phd

today i got into the cultural studies association conference (presenting on tumblr, obvs), had my review of nyu’s ellen willis conference published in the journal of popular music studies, and had my essay on the readykeulous angry letters exhibit published in women & performance. the second essay is in the ampersand section, which i curated, and which has a really great piece by kathe burkhart on the influence of helene cixous on visual art and some of my favorite selections from joon lee’s lipstickeater

this probably sounds like #feministnarcissism, or even #pride but it isn’t. (i would fully admit it if it was and, like, take a picture of myself to underscore the point.) this is serendipitous timing and reminding myself, as i go back to new york, about what’s up. it’s kind of like in stealing home (omg that movie is so good i used to own it) when jody foster is like “you’re a ballplayer, that’s who you are” to mark whatever his name is except i’m doing it for myself although, now that i think of it, there was that great and important time, probably back in 2007 before i even knew i was going back to school, that joon referred to us as “grunge academics” and did it for me. 

super random bonus track

i was hungover the morning we were supposed to meet with charles aaron, who worked at sassy and spin in the 90s, but marisa and i did all of our interviews together, and so i dragged myself to his office on park avenue. thank god. it was by far one of the best interviews we did. charles just talked at us for, like, two hours, and dudes talking at me is normally the kind of thing that makes me batty, but he was totally weird, and weird is my weakness in almost all situations.

he was just riffing and at one point he told us, basically, that life sucks, and that at some point you realize that maybe you’ll get to do something cool every few years. i would have said wow, bummer, if there had been a pause. it wasn’t until a year or two later that i thought, wow, optimistic. because, like, what more can you ask for? if you get to do something really cool, or sorta cool, every few years—i mean, that’s pretty great. that’s something to look forward to. oh, i don’t know, i’m not that patient.  

charles, however, must be, and this is my favorite part of the story. we were doing this interview in what, to me, and my post-conde-nast sensibility, was a noticeably tiny office. and there was some sort of magazine insurrection soon after and the new boss moved two more people into the office with him. and if you have a tiny office and your new boss moves two more people into it, he wants you to quit. instead, charles just shared his office. i think maybe it took a few years, but there was another insurrection, and now he is in charge. 

maybe this story is urban media legend or maybe i made it up and it probably has more to say about me than about him. but the idea of just waiting people out? maybe for years? like, just waiting and waiting and having your very presence be the ultimate fuck you? just doing your thing and laughing on the inside? refusing to disappear—or, even better, refusing to care—is the best and most hilarious kind of, um, vengeance.