I just wanted to quickly mention the trailer for the new Judd Apatow movie, “This is 40.” Of course, we all know that Hollywood is guilty of all sorts of offenses all of the time, but it seems rare even…
Hi guys. As some of you, but not most of you, know – I read tarot. Not because I’m a creepy “let me tell you your future, child… oh yes, a tall, handsome man approaches…” – type (Jesus, at least…
Get out the ladies, ladies! It’s National Cleavage Day! And I, your resident humorless feminist fuddy-duddy, am here to poop all over it.
Belvedere has officially apologized for their rapey ad, and made a donation to RAINN. Which is… fine. But kind of always how these things go, right? Someone fucks up big time, and the fuck-up appears to be an institutional problem and not just one idiot running their mouth off, and then Outrage, and then a Statement that the fuck-up is Not What We Stand For, and then a donation to X organization. Here’s Belvedere’s statement:
It was surveys of two towns in Georgia that convinced Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta that the nation’s relentless campaign against childhood obesity wasn’t hitting hard enough: Georgia has the second highest rate of childhood obesity in the U.S., and parents in the towns surveyed seemed unaware of their kids’ obesity. So to promote their Strong4Life campaign, Children’s decided that a painfully blunt approach was necessary, and damn the consequences–even if those consequences involved putting sad, overweight children on billboards and TV ads to shame their parents into action.
If you’ve gotten someone’s attention by giving them policies to challenge and facts to debate, you’re doing something right. You’re putting yourself out there as a contender. You’re making yourself part of the conversation. Good for you! If you’ve gotten someone’s attention by putting a young Asian woman on a bicycle to pedal through rice fields in a sedge hat to the tune of a gong and a pentatonic scale, so she can smilingly criticize your opponent in broken English, it’s not because you’re a contender–it’s because you’re a racist asshole.
Last year, safe estimates were that 46 percent of Super Bowl viewers were women. With market research indicating that 1 in 5 watch just for the commercials, that’s more than 10 million women who have your undivided attention (not to mention of millions of men who actually, you know, like and respect women) as, once again, you devote millions of advertising dollars to naked chicks in front of wind machines.
Welcome to 2012’s Insulting, Demeaning, and Frankly Not- Terribly-Creative Super Bowl Ads (Tittys! Edition)
Do you ever feel like your skin has that unpleasant skin texture? Are you worried that your waist isn’t narrower than your head? Do you look at photos of yourself and think, “Oh, no, I look like myself!”? Have no fear–you stop looking like a human being and start looking like the walking incarnation of an unrealistic, unattainable beauty standard with Fotoshop by Adobe.
“This commercial isn’t real,” says faux-ad creator Jesse Rosten, “and neither are society’s standards of beauty.” (For the record, the whole “eat healthy and exercise” thing ain’t a slam-dunk either, Rosten. But your overall point is sound.)
[Transcript after the jump.]
This is a guest post by Jessica Mack
Last week, there was a new and interesting twist to the Leveson Inquiry – the ongoing public trial of the British Press following last year’s phone hacking scandal. A handful of women’s rights and rape prevention groups in the UK are insisting that the media’s portrayal of women – namely its accomplice in sexism, objectification, rape culture, and misogyny – be investigated as part of its general scumminess.
Though we generally notice the more egregious offenses, when a magazine cover barely resembles the celebrity it’s supposed to portray, we’re so jaded that we let it fly, much as we accept that a Picasso is going to kind of look just about person-esque.
Now scientists at Dartmouth can identify precisely how cubist a cover photo has become on a scale of 1 to 5.
Have you ever hit “pause” on your romantic comedy, set your Diet Dr. Pepper down on the coffee table (cautiously, so as not to smudge your nail polish), and said to your vacuous, tittering girlfriends, “This diet drink isn’t doing…
Hell yeah, she can look just as pretty as her less generously proportioned friends. She can also be as happy as a hit with a rollicking beat, and she can have a tummy and still look yummy. And those dresses…