If You Have To Do “Black Friday,” We’ve Got A Better Way

A “Buy This, Not That” article.

 

Some words and phrases lose their meaning over time. Sometimes that’s through actual physical repetition—try saying the word “surreptitiously” 20 times and see if it still sounds like English at the end. Other times it is because the word themselves become less precise, or stop meaning what they used to mean. Words like “metrosexual” or “mansplain” lost their meaning over time because they were being used to describe things that didn’t fit, or because people misused them, or just because people are weird. I feel like “Black Friday” has joined that category.

Black Friday used to mean three things:

  1. Getting up at 4 AM the day after Thanksgiving to shop for cheap things that you really want.
  2. A singular day of sales.
  3. Newscasters showing footage of seething masses of frantic humans losing their goddamn minds in a Target.

And now it means… not those things. Well, it still means the last thing. I don’t know what newscasters would do without footage of Black Friday “riots.” They might have to actually report the news. Heaven forbid.

But the meaning of Black Friday has started to change dramatically.

The onset of e-commerce meant that we spread into Cyber Monday. Then the fear of big businesses encouraged Small Business Saturday. And then nonprofits were like “we want in on this action” and started Giving Tuesday. Then the day itself started to stretch. First it was starting at midnight on Thanksgiving. Then…. six PM on Thanksgiving? Then pretty much all of Thanksgiving. And now the sales are just basically all of November. Just this evening, I got an ad for a “pre-Black Friday” sale at Office Depot. Office Depot.

And the “cheap things that you really want” thing changed as well. Black Friday sales are often “sales” in the way that garage sales are “sales”: they are opportunities to get rid of shit that the owners don’t want and hope you are stupid enough to take. It’s a way to empty out stock before the heart of Christmas shopping.  And the “cheap” thing is a lie these days, too. Oftentimes the “sale” is the same price that the object already is, but with a new label on it. Last time I partook in Black Friday, I was very pleased to get a copy of Apples to Apples for $15. The next week I saw it in the store for… $10. The hell.

So all of that adds up to one thing: Black Friday is bullshit. It is extra bullshit now, because of that aforementioned time creep. Because capitalism is always gonna capitalism, low-wage workers are being forced to leave their Thanksgiving celebrations early, or miss their Thanksgiving celebrations entirely, so that people who don’t realize that the internet exists can get $5 off of a flat-screen TV. It is bullshit.

So don’t do it. Don’t go out on Black Friday. Don’t give more money to Bezos or the Waltons. Instead, if you want to spend money, buy things from smaller artisans and creators. Like the ones I’m about to show you!

Each of these artists has either made something that is hanging up in my house at this very moment, or was recommended to me by a friend. So they all are beloved by people with excellent taste. Also, all images are the copyrighted property of their creators — I’m just borrowing them temporarily to show you all how cool they are.

And heads up: their sites or shops are hyperlinked in their names.

 

Meghan Rowswell

I’m not 100% sure that there is an art style that Meghan Rowswell doesn’t do. She makes gorgeous ikebana arrangements, crazy cool egg decoration things, textile sculptures, and collages. She honestly does more than that, but if I keep listing her accomplishments, I’m going to start feeling lame about my lack thereof. So instead I’ll just show you one of my favorite pieces, a collage she did. Her site doesn’t have anything currently on sale, but I have it on good authority that if you e-mail her you can totally work out a commission. (This “good authority” comes from having, you know, done that.)

 

The Latest Kate

The Latest Kate is an artist who makes really adorable posters of animals with encouraging sayings on them. LOOK AT THIS MAJESTIC SPACE DEER. The space deer is reminding you that you’re a badass. Thank you, space deer. I am, in fact, a badass.

 

 

CarnivalSix

I need to have about sixteen more children in my life than I do, because I need to buy all of them these adorable fairytale prints from CarnivalSix. They’re all really cute interpretations of classic stories, with key quotes from the story featured as part of the story. The genius behind CarnivalSix, Laurel Shelley-Reuss, is also the co-creator of a fantastic RPG-based comic called The Handbook of Heroes. It also has a Patreon. (Hint, hint.)

 

Emily McDowell

Emily McDowell creates a variety of products, including cards, mugs, and stationary. My favorites are her cards, which are quite outside your average Hallmark, in that they admit that sympathy cards are a fruitless attempt to make people feel better when they can’t be made to feel better. Or give genuine congratulations for a new baby.

 

 

Tea and Absinthe

Tea and Absinthe makes tea, teaware, and other drinkware. It’s all pretty fantastic, but my favorite is this dapper octopus mixer. He has a hat.

 

Kevin Eslinger

Kevin Eslinger makes original art as well as fanart. Because I’m a geek, I’m especially fond of the fanart, especially his splatter-style of fanart. Like this amazing splatter Venom, which seems to really capture all of the messy “WTF-ness” of Venom.

 

Karen Hallion

Hi, my name is Elle, and I’m an addict. It’s been… well like one month since I bought a Karen Hallion piece. I have a problem. Karen Hallion is at the perfect intersection for me of fanart, feminism, art nouveau, and general fun. I have So Many Karen Hallion prints. Like, All. All the Prints. It’s a problem. I’m running out of wall. But one that I definitely have is this one, because it is AMAZING. It is art noveau Spider-Gwen. ART NOVEAU SPIDER-GWEN.

 

Flying Frog Illustration

Flying Frog Illustration does really gorgeous watercolors, both originals and fanart. I have a few of their pieces, but my absolute favorite has to be this piece of the Endless from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. I’m already a sucker for these characters, especially all together like this, but what I’m blown away by is the color and complexity. Most fanart I’ve seen of the Endless tends towards the minimalist, and this is anything but. This is the Endless as seen by Delirium, and I love it.

 

Megan Lara

So the art nouveau thing… it’s happening again. Megan Lara has great original art and fanart, but the pieces that I collect the most are her art nouveau depictions of badass female characters. It is really hard to choose a favorite—Peggy Carter, Princess Leia, and Wonder Woman all hang in their art nouveau glory on my wall. But the centerpiece of my collection has to be this amazing depiction of Shuri. The colors and the details are just so epic, and Shuri herself is so fantastic.

 

C Wilson Art

C Wilson Art specializes in fanart combined with classic styles, like amazing military portraits of Star Wars characters. My absolute favorite, however, has to be this “Creation of Adam” parody starring Cthulhu and the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I love it so, so much. So much.

 

 

Leanne Huynh

Leanne Huynh does a lot of amazing original art as well as fanart, and it’s really hard to pick a favorite. But I will probably have to go with this piece of a baby Eeyore, because it is basically the only thing in the world that can make my ovaries clench like I want a child. I don’t actually want a child, I just want to give a child this adorable picture of baby Eeyore. It is that cute.

 

 

MJ Erickson

MJ Erickson does fanart, original art, and also makes pins. Most of the pieces that I actually own aren’t currently up on her site, but I dug through the interwebs to find my favorite, this print of Valkyrie raining down holy hell. Look at this piece. Look closelier. Look more closelier. It’s freaking amazing. And even cooler, Valkyrie herself, Tessa Thompson, saw the pic and gave it her seal of approval.

 

Atomic Pixies

I mentioned that I like art nouveau, right? Well guess what, here is more! Atomic Pixies does really cute art nouveau pop culture pieces. They have an entire series of RuPaul’s Drag Race contestants in art nouveau style and with one of their famous catchphrases. I wanna collect them all, like Pokémon cards.

 

Chrissie Zullo

Chrissie Zullo also does both original art and fanart (sensing another trend?) She has lots of way cool pieces, but the one that I have hanging up in my kitchen is the best, in my opinion—a coffin-shaped pic of a vampire bobby soxer at a death-themed soda fountain. Like, how do you even come up with that? And look at how adorable she is, drinking that refreshing bottle of blood! She has the bat equivalent of a poodle skirt! What’s not to love?

 

Twilight Garden Shop

Twilight Garden Shop makes artisan bath products that look very scrumptious. Literally. Like I would totally be tempted to eat this soap. It’s like what happens when a geode and taffy have a baby.

 

Sweet Pickles’ Designs

Sweet Pickles’ Designs makes pet accessories that are just too adorable. Like this adorable spooky pet bow tie.

 

That’s just a sampling of my very favorites. I encourage you all to show them love (and by love, I mean both praise them and give them money). But there are also literally thousands and millions more artists out there who could use your support and admiration. And you can give it to them without even fully waking from your turkey coma, without making some poor person making $8.00 an hour venture into the cold to get screamed at by someone who has officially spent way too much time with their family and has to take it out on someone, and without making any mega billionaires any more ridiculously wealthy. So win-win, right?

Signed: Feminist Fury

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Featured image shows a storefront from the inside with two naked mannequins looking out. The glass has “50% off” posters stuck to it. It was taken by Kecko and is released under a CC-BY-2.0 license.

Get Past Your Magikarp Phase, Or Internalized Misogyny and Pumpkin Spice Lattes

 

Author’s note: Apologies for the two week hiatus. Richard and I both had some Life Stuff happening. This week you are probably expecting me to talk about the Kavanaugh nomination, or Les Moonves, or that Jian Ghomeshi bullshit, or why Ralph Norman should be punched in the face, or the newest evidence of extensive molestation in the Catholic church, or that guy who kidnapped a woman and assaulted her and is getting no jail time, or the assholes who are blaming Ariana Grande for Mac Miller’s death, but literally all of those things make me so angry that I make a sound that I am pretty sure only my dog can hear. So in order to save my blood pressure and her ears, I’m turning my attention elsewhere this week. I’m calling my past self out and defending pumpkin spice lattes. So buckle up.

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I’ve mentioned before that feminism is a process as much as it is an identity (or, you know, a noun). We are all the products of our culture and of our education, and there is always more learning and growing that a person can do. The feminist I am now is vastly different from the feminist I was even five years ago. (For one thing, I’m even angrier! I wouldn’t have thought that was possible five years ago.) If you’re a nerd like I am, it can be useful to look at the journey like you’re a Pokémon. You’re continually gaining experience, learning new skills, and even getting items to help you along the way. And while you’re on the journey, you feel like you’re pretty awesome at what you’re doing at all times. And then once you hit Celadon City (yes that’s a Pokémon Red reference, I’m old, shut up) you look back at yourself at think, “Holy shit what was wrong with me?” Because while you might be a rocking Gyrados now, you had a few really, really unfortunate Magikarp phases. For a lot of cis female feminists (including myself) that Magikarp phase is also known as “internalized misogyny.”

For basically as long as I can remember, I have found myself at odds with a lot of the dictates of traditional femininity. If I had to describe myself from basically age 6 to… now… I would probably use “smart, large, angry, and awkward.” I was the tallest person in my grade for most of my elementary education, and shot past the size for most of the “cute” clothes other girls were wearing at an early age. When other girls were having tea parties, I was wandering around forests, and learning how to fend off mountain lions in a way that skipped straight to the most disturbing possible option. Most of my friends were boys, and despite my best efforts, I never seemed to fit in well with girls. (The closest I got was when I was used as a bodyguard for the popular girls during our collective “boys have cooties” phase. It’s good to be needed?) While I still did a lot of the things that all the other girls were doing—playing with Barbies, listening to Spice Girls, hanging NSYNC posters on my wall—there seemed to be some kind of fundamental divide between me and other girls, one that I couldn’t bridge no matter how hard I tried.

So I stopped trying, and started hating instead. I entered a prolonged “not like other girls” phase. I decided to formulate my own identity, my own special status, and my own worth, by how different I was from other girls, and by how much I could disdain the girls who alternately bullied and mystified me.

I decided I abhorred the color pink. I closed my eyes whenever I passed the violently pink Victoria’s Secret store in the mall, forcing my mother to take my hand and lead me safely past it before I would deign to open my eyes. I bought long sleeved tees from the boys’ section because they were more “hardcore.” I convinced myself that I liked wrestling and South Park, because that’s what the boys liked. (I didn’t, and I didn’t at the time, though I like it a lot better now.) I wrote poems that mocked girls as airheads. I declared an absolutely unnecessary vendetta against Leonardo DiCaprio, simply because all of the girls in my class were swooning over him. (To be fair, I’m still way more sad when the poor people in steerage die than when Jack sinks unnecessarily into the ocean.) I idolized fictional characters like Daria from Daria, and Kat from 10 Things I Hate About You, fellow smart girls who disdained the “normal” girls and were odd and quirky (and somehow still ended up with the guy). I bragged about having mostly male friends, and talked about how much “drama” other girls were. I also bragged about how I didn’t wear makeup, and could get ready for school in five minutes flat. In short, I did everything I could to prove that I was “not like other girls,” because in my roiling mix of anger, jealousy, and frustration, I misidentified the source of my problem. (Again, to be fair, I hadn’t learned words like “patriarchy” when I was twelve.)

While the girls who confused and abused me were definitely part of the problem, they were the symptom, not the source. I wasn’t truly angry at girls. I was (in the words of one of my friends) angry about girls. I was angry about gender norms, and the patriarchy, and enforced, performative femininity. But it was way easier to hate and make fun of girls, and police the things they liked and didn’t like, than to understand that.

And I’m not the only one. In my piece about Ready Player One, I briefly discussed Lindsay Ellis’ video essay on Twilight, and the points she made about how we have extra disdain and hatred for the things that women (and especially teen girls) enjoy, and how it’s seen as a way for women and girls to gain respect to distance themselves from the “average” girl. I luckily eventually evolved. Or at least got more uh, EXP. I’ve tried to expunge phrases like “I don’t really ‘girl’ well” out of my vocabulary. I am a girl (actually, I am a motherfucking lady thank you very much) and therefore I “girl” just fine. I’ve started wearing dresses way more often. I’ve called a ceasefire on my war on the color pink. I wear bright red lipstick like a confident 18th-century harlot. I like to think I’ve gotten a lot better. But I still have slip-ups.

Which brings me to my second “Magikarp/Internalized misogyny” phase, and the one that I’m hopefully helping myself (and others!) overcome today: the discourse around the “basic bitch.” And of course, pumpkin spice lattes.

I don’t really remember how old I was when the phrase “basic bitch” began to enter the cultural consciousness, but it was probably a good deal after that when it entered my consciousness. I also don’t remember when pumpkin-spice lattes became so… hateable. But I remember leaning into the curve, hard, in my mid-twenties, long after I should have known better. College Humor has a video that pretty accurately sums up the “symptoms” of what was culturally known as “basic,” but in my own mind the phrase is inextricable from leggings-as-pants, Ugg boots, Pinterest, and the ultimate symbol, the pumpkin spice latte.

In my mid-twenties, I apparently hadn’t totally overcome my desire to make myself seem more special by putting down other women. I definitely described more than a few women as basic. And at the time, I didn’t mean it as a compliment. My only (weak) defense of it is that I associated “basic-ness” with a certain class and race consciousness, or rather unconsciousness. For me “basic” was pretty much inextricable from “Becky,” referring to upper-middle class white women who “didn’t see race” and would have kept drinking Starbucks even if the coffee beans were proven to be made from dried orphan tears. But that’s not what most people meant by “basic,” and it wasn’t even everything I meant by “basic.” Luckily, I went from “leaning in to the curve” to “super uncomfortable with the curve” pretty quickly. But it seems other people haven’t made the trip with me.

For whatever reason, I feel like the anti-pumpkin spice latte hate has gotten worse this year (prompting this article). It’s the middle of September, and I’ve already seen multiple articles and Facebook posts that are basically like, “Put down the pumpkin spice lattes and stop being happy about terrible things, IT ISN’T FALL YET YOU WHORES.” And we all just need to take a deep breath, calm down, and stop hating on things that are basic/hating on basic women who love pumpkin spice lattes.

Because if we are not intending it as a critique of willful ignorance (as in my former paltry defense) then we are expressing it as a critique of women. And not in the “women who don’t help other women” sense, but the “the thing you like is stupid because things girls like are stupid” sense. Because when we call someone or something basic, we are letting that word stand in for other words. “Bland,” maybe. “Inoffensive, but not my scene.” “Mainstream.” Most of all, “normal.” When we are calling someone or something basic, we are reliving our desperate desires to be seen as special, or set apart. For those of us who overcame our first Magikarp stage, we’re reliving our desire to be seen as “not like other girls.”

We’re hating things for no reason other than the fact that multiple women performing “traditional” femininity like them. Leggings are comfortable, and we’re basically a couple steps away from returning to the “legging and tunic” days, which would make my inner fantasy nerd happy. Uggs are also comfortable. Pinterest is shiny and addictive. And pumpkin spice lattes are not totally my thing, but they are no worse than any other seasonal thing Starbucks pops out. To steal a quote from another friend, “Liking Doctor Who and craft beer does not make me inherently better than another girl who likes This is Us and pumpkin spice lattes.” These are preferences, not the moral judgments that we frame them as. Ironically, College Humor recently released a new video doing basically what I am doing here, and defending things that are “basic.”

And the things “basic” girls get made fun of are all just as average, and just as popular, as a lot of the things that guys like, but never get called “basic” for. How stereotypical is it for a guy to like cars, or sports? Or beer? But we don’t look at a pack of men shouting at a stadium and sloshing Budweiser and go, “Ugh, oh my god. Look at those basic bitches.” Because again, we’re unfairly angry about things that girls like, and we internalize a loooooot of misogyny.

So learn from my example. Make your Magikarp phases as short as possible. And for fuck’s sake, stop making fun of/using the phrase “basic bitches.”

Signed: Feminist Fury.

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Featured Image of two packets of Dunkin’ Donuts Pumpkin Spice coffee is by Mike Mozart and released under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic licence.

You Should Treat Robots Like People

It’s about you as much as about them.

 

Last week, Google unveiled a version of their digital assistant that can make voice calls to set up appointments for you. It’s so well done—even throwing in the odd “um” and “uh” to really complete the illusion—that some people can’t even tell that it’s a robot assistant calling and not a human one. I think that’s great.

But boy, some people don’t. In fact, the backlash was so severe that I heard Google is going to implement some kind of “this is a digital assistant calling” thing in the future, so that you’re not…what, accidentally nice to a robot?

“But you’re tricking people!” I hear you say. And in response I say: “So what?”

What, in all honesty, is the negative outcome of a robot “tricking you” into thinking it’s a human when it’s calling to book an appointment? All I can think of is “I might treat it like I treat a human,” and that doesn’t sound like much of a reason to me.

In fact, to me it sounds like you’d be an asshole to everybody if you could get away with it.

That’s the only way I can read these statements. If you’re upset at being tricked into thinking a random appointment scheduler is a human, it’s because you’d treat a robot differently. It’s pretty unlikely you’d treat it better (and if you would, well, you can probably ignore the rest of this), so you obviously see some sort of cost associated with being polite to people, and therefore try to avoid it whenever possible.

And boy does that sound like a lot of anti-atheist argumentation I’ve heard over the years.

It’s like this old chestnut: “If it weren’t for god, heaven, and hell, people would just do whatever they wanted!” When someone says that, to me it sounds like they’re saying “if nobody would punish me, I’d start doing things we generally consider immoral.” Meanwhile my atheist friends are all “there’s no evidence for the existence of any kind of deity, so uh, go wild, I guess.” And by “go wild” they usually mean “treat other people with decency because you’ve decided it’s the right thing to do, not because of the threat of punishment.”

And you know what? That’s not great. Because in this world—this real place where there’s no evidence of a deity and very few robots lurking about (yet)—here today there are a lot of people you can get away with being an asshole to. Especially if you’re white. Think “calling the cops on black people for going to Starbucks.”

If “I will act as poorly as I can get away with” is your go-to mentality, you’re going to be a pretty bad person.

So here’s what I want you to do. I want you to not care if it’s a robot or a human calling you. Instead, I want you to suck it up and treat anyone and anything who calls you up on the phone with simple, basic courtesy. And I want you to get used to it, too.

Because if you can’t, if it’s that hard for you to be polite, if your time is worth so much that the slight chance you might be wasting a tiny fraction of it on accidentally being nice to someone who you won’t get punished for being mean to, then you need all the practice you can get.

Because there are a lot of people out there you can get away with being a dick to, but you still shouldn’t.

Treat robots like people. Maybe it’ll give you the practice you need to treat people like people.

Signed: The Remixologist.

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Featured image of an old-school flip-phone transformed into a robot by Joe Wu, CC BY 2.0