It’s easy to roll your eyes at trolling—to say “don’t read the comments” and dismiss trolls as just a bunch of haters. But let’s talk about trolling for what it really is: disruptive behavior that seeks reinforce power over marginalized communities. The power issues that motivate trolling become especially obvious when you talk to fat-acceptance activists about their work online.
An anti-street harassment protester in Kathmandu this week. Photo via Activista Nepal.
Marching down a dark street in Kathmandu, Nepal, on Monday evening, dozens of people came together for one common cause: more street lamps.
“We demand proper policy related to public services that will ensure women and girls' safety in public spaces,” recalled Moti Lama, the National Coordinator of Activista Nepal, one of the participating groups. “We flashed placards and torches [flashlights] in the rally to demand proper street lighting system in the public spaces.”
My own belief is that Twitter and other social media allow feminism to grow in crucial ways. These platforms do away with the gatekeepers of media, creating a platform where people whose voices are often left out of the discussion can be heard loud and clear. That discourse forces those of us whose voices have always been accepted have to ask ourselves hard questions that we never would have considered before. The truly toxic era for feminism was one in which only middle-class, white voices were heard—which may be the time Goldberg is referring to when she writes wistfully of the "insouciant, freewheeling place" that Twitter used to be.
The allegations against Woody Allen have often been discussed—Farrow's brother Ronan succinctly pointed out how the abuse was left out of Allen's Cecil B. DeMille lifetime achievement award highlight reel this year—but this is the first time that Farrow has published her story.
Since the beginning of January, Whole Foods has been screaming it from their Facebook pages, corporate blog, news affiliates, and tastefully designed signage: “Collards are the new kale!” While at first glance this just seems like a flash-in-the-pan and downright lazy line of ad copy, its casual, trend-focused language raised red flags among some people.
Two bearded ladies take a stroll at a Louisiana steampunk festival. Photo credit: infrogmation, via Creative Commons.
During the quarter century since novelist K.W. Jeter playfully invented the term “steampunk,” the neo-Victorian movement has grown into a full-blown literary genre and an energetic subculture. Steampunk is airships and corsets and bizarre glowing weapons. It’s gears and top hats and goggles and mechanical butlers. It’s no-nonsense pistol-toting female scientists and the oppressive cultural restraints that tries to shape them into proper ladies.
Ashley Wagner is a two-time national champion who missed qualifying for the 2010 Olympic team by a hair, a story that was emphasized by the background commentary in this year's Nationals. Her nerves were apparent at the Nationals, and her long program seemed irrevocably marred by two falls. But Wagner was a lock for the Olympic team for one crucial reason—what NBC, the network broadcasting the Olympics, needs more than champion skaters is a good story.