Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Baddest Feminist On the Planet

Wait, grammatically that’s wrong. It should “worst.”

The thing about “Empowerment,” by which I mean the branded thing that the zeitgeist keeps trying to sell back to us at ever-increasing profit margins, is that it’s entirely without substance. You can’t go against it because it doesn’t mean anything. It’s an attempt at rebranding by the same places and groups that made us feel awful about ourselves in the first place, who have sold us this idea of femininity for years and who have now figured they can fool us by giving Malibu Stacy a new hat. Continue reading Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Baddest Feminist On the Planet

Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Why Yes, I Am Mad, Why Do You Ask, Bro?

Stories also used to teach that if you were good, for varying definitions of what “good” is, but essentially if you treated people right and tried to live by a code of respecting people, you’d get good things. Or at the very least, people who did bad would be punished. But if there’s anything adulthood has taught me it’s the opposite is the truth. The more you hurt and lie and cheat and hate, the better you do, and good is for suckers who haven’t learned how to work the system yet. Continue reading Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Why Yes, I Am Mad, Why Do You Ask, Bro?

Where’s My Freaking Revolution: How Not To Do Empowerment

The greater problem, though, is that WWE is trying to sell Ellsworth having to fight Asuka as somehow empowering for women. They went so far as to seriously compare their first one on one match on SDL to the Battle of the Sexes between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs. Which, yes, it was a woman fighting a man who acts like a sexist pig, but on the other hand no, not at all, this is actually insulting. Continue reading Where’s My Freaking Revolution: How Not To Do Empowerment

Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Bad Backlash. Very Bad Backlash.

Backlash was a bad show. Not the worst I’ve ever seen, not abysmal, but certainly bad. I got just enough entertainment out of it to feel like my $10 didn’t go to waste this month. But I’m always prepared for the May show or shows to be lackluster, it’s that period right after Wrestlemania where you realize the WWE has no idea what they’re doing. … Continue reading Where’s My Freaking Revolution: Bad Backlash. Very Bad Backlash.

Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: Wrestlemania 34

I don’t really know what to say about the show because it was so very different from the Royal Rumble. While the Rumble started my year out with such high hopes, Wrestlemania failed to capitalize on that. It isn’t even that I would say what transpired in New Orleans was bad, because on the whole it wasn’t. But almost worse than that is how, outside of two or three moments, it was forgettable. Continue reading Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: Wrestlemania 34

Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: *Gestures Wildly At the Wrestlemania Sign*

There was a point at the end of every college party I attended in my junior and senior years when we’d reached the dregs of the liquor. There was nothing left but a few shots of the good stuff and some half-finished mixers, but nothing that actually went together, and this one bottle of Goldschl├Ąger we just could not get rid of. That was the point where we’d resort to just throwing random things together in hopes it would be drinkable.

That’s sort of what the build to Fastlane felt like, especially with regards to the women’s matches. One of those matches was even a semi-random tag match that was announced on Twitter only days before the show. With that total lack of build and what felt like haphazard at best booking for the title match, there was every reason to expect Fastlane would be like our cocktail experiments: good elements combined in a terrible way.

But Fastlane was one of those combinations that managed to work out.

Continue reading “Where’s My FREAKING Revolution: *Gestures Wildly At the Wrestlemania Sign*”