Author Archives: Danny McCarthy

Celebrity Sunday, Politics, pop culture

WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING: VALENTIME-TO-GO

Okay, so if you live under a rock—PLEASE LET ME JOIN YOU. I CAN’T HANDLE THE PRESSURES OF MODERN SOCIETY—then you might not know what’s been happening this weekend. And luckily for you—PLEASE I’M JUST A CHILD—I have the scoop—literally, my mother brought me up an ice cream scooper from my house this weekend—on what the hippest, hoppest happenings are.

 

WHAT’S HAPPENING RN:

 

1). Formation: No surprise, but I listened to “Formation” more and discussed it with people. I even discussed it a little with my mother, which involves a lot of avoiding talking about the Illuminati and me not playing her the song because I refuse to witness my mother hearing anything about Red Lobster.

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Source: Danny McCarthy

2). I’m a target for the Illuminati: I downloaded Tidal to get “Formation.” And I might be paranoid, but I gave them access to my Facebook to sign in—because I’m too lazy to type out a username and password. I’m afraid that Queen Bey will see that I tweeted about Kanye on SNL last night, so frankly I have a limited time left. They’re not going to kill me, but I feel like they’re going to very Kirstie Alley to my Leah Remini.

Even though I love Beyoncé, I’m concerned that my outspokenness on the Illuminati will make me soon disappear. In all likelihood, they’ll just take away my phone. BUT I WOULD RATHER THEY TAKE AWAY MY FREEDOM THAN MY PHONE.

3). The GOP Debate: As a pop cultural junkie, advocate, altar boy and anthropologist, I’m obviously drawn to messy, scandalous situations, and right now, the presidential race is more appealing to me than the Twitter beef between Yolanda Foster and Lisa Rinna about the most recent episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I’m actually alternating between listening to Kanye’s new album and watching last night’s GOP debate.

The GOP candidates seem to me like the biggest pack of Mean Girls. When they discuss Justice Scalia’s recent death, they are all of the opinion that Republicans need to block Obama from nominating anyone, because they’re afraid of losing a conservative majority on the Supreme Court. But like isn’t that so shady? This is how we end up with a fucked-up country and a heavily polarized government, because the parties are so consumed with getting their way that they completely forget to do what’s actually good for the country. And not directly undermining the President would be good for the country.

And I was about to type, “But that’s none of my business,” but it literally is my business. It’s our business. We’re going to be stuck with this country a lot longer than the old men on that stage.

But “let’s dispel with this fiction” that the GOP does what it’s doing. Omg, am I making a political dig? I’m so smart.

4). SNL slaying the game: I thought that SNL was actually really funny this year. And the short about Beyoncé was so on-point, it’s scary. Because conservative white people who were outraged by Beyoncé were just essentially outraged by her crime of being “black on TV.” Yes, I think there were definitely homages to Black Power, but I think that people are afraid of Beyonce actually utilizing her incredibly powerful platform to be political, strong and unapologetic.

Also, their cold open with Hillary and Jeb was funny and kind of cringey, but in a good way. I miss SNL’s portrayal of Donald Trump by Darrell Hammond. I need to figure out a way to make Hammond playing Trump saying “Yuuuuge” as a phone ringtone.

5). I changed the background on my phone: First it was John Krasinski shirtless because HE’S SO HOT I’M GONNA CRY and now it’s a picture of fries. And I actually Googled “fries” and sifted through the results before arriving at the perfect picture of fries.

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Source: Danny McCarthy

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Source: Danny McCarthy

6). Valentine’s Day: I only thought about dying alone once. Okay, twice. And my family and I accidentally went to the single most romantic Valentine’s Day restaurant in Boston, where I annihilated a crème brulee. No regrets.

7). CRUCIAL NEWS: I NEED SOMEONE TO TELL ME IF KIM KARDASHIAN WEST’S HAIR IS DYED OR NOT; OR I WILL LOSE MY MIND. At first, when I saw the photo of her, alongside her sisters, at the Yeezy season 3 show, I assumed it was a wig. It looked amazing, but it looked like a wig. But I was so happy to see her out and about that I didn’t do my proper research, which I regret. Then I was looking on Kylie’s Snapchat and I saw her in her now-classic braids—not personally a fan, but not what we’re discussing right now—and she was still in her platinum hair and you could see the faint shadow of dark roots mingling with bleach. So what is the truth? How was I not aware of this? Who—of my staff—is to blame? Answer: all of them. I love Kim’s platinum moments, and I hope that this lasts a little longer than the last one.

 

8). King Kylie: Kylie Jenner is making Snapchat masterpieces. I missed her last one a few weeks ago, but if you scurry to tonight’s, it’s veritable cinema. Kim is doing a better job acting than her Drop Dead Diva appearance + “Jam” song combined. She says “staff” more times than a Planned Parenthood employee (staff, STAPH, get it? Amiright?). And although it was supposed to be satiric, I fully believe that Kim takes selfies with an entire entourage of photographers, music guys, light guys, and possibly a hype man (it was quite the group, I can’t be sure). It’s a love story to rival Titantic. Do we have a new director on our hands? A Va-Jay-Jay Abrams? Omg, you have to admit that that’s a hilarious pun.

9). Making Waves: Is what I can’t call this one, because Kanye’s new album is actually called The Life of Pablo. I’ve started listening to it, and I like it, and I’m getting dragged into the deep, swirling black hole that is Tidal. Also, on a completely unrelated note:

10). Einstein (Not the bagels): I’m not too knowledgeable about this, but somehow Einstein was proved right about his theory of space and time being interwoven concerning gravitational waves. A billion years ago, two black holes knocked into each other, causing a ripple effect that has shot across the universe and has finally been picked up by scientists. So basically, Einstein is…well…an Einstein, but we all knew that. It’s actually really cool.

Whew, this was a big one. Hopefully you’re all caught up with things. How are things with you? Good? That’s good. Tell your mom I said hi. Kk. Cool.

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Source: Danny McCarthy

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Politics

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE PRIMARY

On Tuesday in the New Hampshire primary, Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump emerged victorious for their respective parties. Trump won 35.3% of the vote, with John Kasich following behind with 15.8% and Ted Cruz with 11.7%. Sanders won 60.4% of the vote, with Hillary getting 38.0%.

I was originally pro-Hillary, but as Bernie has risen in the polls and I have learned more about him and his politics, I have begun to research him and his politics, and I find that I agree with him on a lot of issues. And I think it was actually Bernie who said it best when, at the end of the Democratic debate against Hillary, he said that either he or Hillary would make a better choice for the country than a Republican. And I don’t even necessarily agree with that, but I do agree with his respect and general classiness towards Hillary and towards the entire presidential race. If he won the nomination, I would be sad because I support Hillary, but I wouldn’t be distraught.

A few weeks before the election, I went to a local bus station in Boston and interviewed New Hampshire residents about the upcoming primary. I asked them primarily why they thought Donald Trump was so popular, and whether or not that popularity would translate into votes in the election.

The answers were interesting. He was popular because of name recognition—The Apprentice—because of his strong opinions about border control and ISIS. Because he wasn’t a pushover. Because he wasn’t a career politician.

(Also this a total side note, but why is it bad if the President is a career politician? I know that the government can be corrupt sometimes, but in general, I want to believe that the people who dedicate their lives to civil service are doing it out of a desire to be helpful to their country. So what if someone has spent their career in politics? Shouldn’t they be well-versed in politics if they’re going to be, like, the head person in politics? I need someone to explain to me why that would be a bad thing.)

Most people laughed—uncomfortably—and said that while he was popular, they hoped that he wouldn’t gain votes in the election. As a journalist, I don’t think I’m supposed to have any sort of opinion, but I’m a bad journalist and a good human, and it makes me distinctly uncomfortable to know that Trump has the majority vote in New Hampshire.

I will be the first to admit that I don’t know everything about politics. I probably know 15% of what there is to know, but as a millennial coming to age in America in 2016, it’s fucking terrifying to think that a celebrity bully could garner the majority in any state. And that’s what Trump is; he’s a bully. He’s a bulldozing, immature, graceless bully, who’s used to getting what he wants.

Personally, I look at a few categories to see what I need to know about a candidate: civil rights, tax reform, gun control, abortion and drugs. As of October 2015, Trump would move to defund Planned Parenthood. Only a few months previous, he said that in general, he supported Planned Parenthood, but that abortions needed to stop. In a few short months, he went from qualifying to outright damning.

On same-sex marriage, Trump says it’s fine “for now.” But that, frankly, threatening statement is almost more terrifying than an outright damnation of same-sex marriage. At least with people who outright oppose it, I know where they stand. With Trump’s “for now,” I have the feeling that like a villain in a movie series, it’ll rear its head in the near future and come back with a vengeance.

I find it scary that I can live in a country where the leading presidential candidate for his party can propose to take away basic human rights—that we just got—and that that is not an immediate deal-breaker. How would people react if Trump tried to re-segregate schools? Or take away women’s votes? By threatening to take away one group’s civil liberties, it shadows over everyone’s civil liberties. Because when Trump threatens same-sex marriage, he challenges the idea that these basic human rights are up for negotiation.

It’s a common fact that to run for president, candidates often become more radical and more of an outlier than they would normally. And so it’s not necessarily surprising that the far-left option—Sanders—and the far-right option—Trump—gained the votes in New Hampshire. What is surprising is that we are allowing Trump to gain strength and momentum.

I want two nominees who are respectful and strong in their opinions and classy. I want nominees who respect the general population, who protect my civil liberty and who have my best interest at heart. I wouldn’t be comfortable if Trump gained the nomination. I would be afraid. What country has a leader who is banned from entering other countries—like the UK and Canada? What country has a leader who proposes banning an entire religious group, branding them as terrorists? What country has a leader who labels an entire population entering the country as rapists, criminals, and terrorists?

By engaging in hate-speech and fear mongering, Trump proves that he is not in this race for the interest of the people. I want nominees who, if they get into office, I wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen to me, or my friends, or my peers. I want a President who, even if we have differing politics, I can trust to protect me on the most basic levels. We shouldn’t live under the threat of something happening to us. And this isn’t just worrisome for same-sex couples, or Muslims, or Mexicans. This affects all of us. Because who our President is says who our country is. We can’t have a country that casts doubt and aspersions onto vast swaths of its population. We can’t have a country that threatens to take away the most basic, human rights.

And so as the primaries continue and the race gets tighter, I suppose my plea is this. Educate yourselves on the candidates. Educate yourselves on who they are, what they stand for. Separate yourself from the hate-speech, the fear mongering, and the emotional tugs at “a greater America.” Acknowledge that candidates, any candidates, will use things like ISIS and marijuana and gun control and hide behind bluster and savage words and strong promises. Separate the magic from the material. Seek the truth, and make smart decisions.

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Life, Rambles

WHAT A JOKE OF A POST

So I didn’t write a second blog post on Sunday (my typical writing day) and I was really busy today, and also I’m a rag. A complete and utter rag—wrung clean of ideas.

So I guess instead of not posting, and missing out and being old and bitter and full of regret, I would just post a little smidge.

I find gum really weird. Like, who thought of making a non-edible, tacky, plastic-y material that makes your breath smell good? It’s the same reason why I think that cologne is weird: who smelled something and then went, “I’m gonna rub this on my body.”

Valentine’s Day is coming, and I’m FULL OF LOVE but mostly for John Krasinski and Texas Toast, so I’m really excited to celebrate in my own way—binging on pictures of John and eating a lot of toast.

Omg I literally have no ideas. Omg. The other day someone asked me how I always have material for blog posts, and I answered: “Um cause I’m always living,” so apparently I must be a ghost today because I have nothing.

I’ve really been enjoying this gif and have been using it in multiple instances.

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Source: WordPress

Also I got a haircut today—“Why?” my mom asked; and I responded with “MIND YA BUSINESS” (No, that’s not true)—and my hairdresser complimented my boldness on wearing a light-wash denim, and we promptly discussed New York City and Beyoncé in the Super Bowl Halftime Show. It was probably the most meaningful conversation I’ve had all week.

Also I made the most epic lunch today. Usually I sleep so late that I brunch it out and make eggs, but today I had breakfast, then class, then the gym, and then I had a decent chunk of time before my next thing, and I was hungry, so I really went all out. I did a toasted ham-and-chorizo sandwich and as a side (i.e. another entrée) sautéed kale and peppers with a fried egg. I was so full and it was so good.

It was one of those lunches where you’re like “Omg” like Rachael Ray when she eats a total bitchin’ brunch on $40 A Day. That kind of exaggerated, “OMG STOP FOOD IS SO GOOD” face.

Wow okay I need to be done. I need to watch a movie. Or more realistically, YouTube videos. Bye.

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Celebrity Sunday, pop culture

THINGS THAT ARE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW

Do you ever have one of those weekends where suddenly it’s Sunday night, you’re lying on the floor of your apartment on a blue shag carpet, and you’re realizing that the most culturally significant moments of the past weekend involved eating food, and that you can name exactly what you ate but not any other thing that happened? No? Never mind.

I was overwhelmed and amazed and pleased at the response my last post—read here if you would like—but the response was so explosive that now I am the literal definition of “deer in headlights.”

And since I didn’t do adequate planning—due to the “deer in headlights” (or the “when the kitchen lights come on as you’re sitting on the counter eating chocolate ice cream out of the carton”) aspect of these last few days—I’m giving you, in lieu of a specific spotlight on what’s happening celebrity-wise, a sort of “What You Should Care About Right Now” list. You’re welcome (?).

WHAT’S HAPPENING RN:

1). The Super Bowl: No comment, except that I essentially view the Super Bowl as a three-part musical—football, BEYONCE, football—and I will, until I die, refer to the field as a “stage” and football players as “Beyoncé’s warm-up act” because I think that is hilarious. But, if you care, it’s the Panthers versus the Broncos. I’m assuming that I’ll just get the low-down from my mother, the Queen and a total Sporty Spice, tomorrow, since she is watching the game.

2). BEYONCE: Beyoncé released a new music video, “Formation,” out of nowhere, and my eyes were not ready for the Instagram stills that she put up when the video came out. I’ve watched the video, and I have a few things to say. Blue Ivy is so big now, it’s crazy! I love the whole “back to my roots in Givenchy” vibe, as well as her braids. I like the synchronized dancers, and the “I Slay” mentality. I also will be incorporating “Always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper” into my daily life.

3). BEYONCE, part dieux: I just need to make her more than one point. She’s so great. I can already tell that I will be awkwardly and inappropriately dancing to this song in a club/my shower, someday very soon. Also I’m craving Red Lobster.

4). This quiz about which Kardashian-Jenner you are: Necessary, and culturally relevant. I got Khloe. Obviously.

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Source: Danny McCarthy

5). Kocktails: I’ve been binging on Snooki a lot lately and she was on the third episode of Kocktails with Khloe. This was the least cringe-worthy episode of the show, so while I will not be watching consistently, I will at least be checking up to see who the guests are to see if it’s worth me having very tense shoulders for forty minutes.

6). This video from Mic: The music video of Coldplay and Beyoncé (BEYONCE) has been criticized for cultural appropriation, and this video from Mic does a really excellent job of differentiating between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation. Basically, appropriation occurs when one borrows recklessly from another culture without understanding the historical significance behind what they are borrowing. So for instance, Chris Martin (referred to in my mind as “Gwyneth Paltrow’s ex-husband”) being followed by a crowd of adoring Indian children might seem weird on the surface, but when you consider that less than 100 years ago, the British Empire was oppressing and ruling over India—which inspired Gandhi to rise up and call for Indian independence against the British Empire—the image becomes almost horrifically self-indulgent and inappropriate. It’s well done and succinct, so watch it!

7). Paris Geller is confirmed to be in the revival of Gilmore Girls: This might be the most important revival of history and my life, so I’m excited that one of the key players will be returning.

8). Gloria Steinem, Bernie Sanders, and Hillary Clinton: I might go into this in deeper depth—omg am I political??—but basically Gloria Steinem, noted feminist and author, said that young women are gravitating towards Bernie Sanders to impress boys and are shying away from Clinton. She later apologized, because…obviously, but it’s still relevant. Also Bernie and Hillary had a Democratic debate this week on who was actually deserving of the term “progressive.” Things got heated. Watch this Late Night with Seth Meyers clip to get a deeper look—but not funnier, because I’m the funniest—at what went on.

This has been “What’s Happening RN.” I’m your host, Danny McCarthy. Good night, and good luck out there.

Psst. Aren’t I so official?

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Life

HOLD ON AND REACH OUT, BECAUSE YOU MATTER

As I’m writing this, my hands are shaking. Part of it is the jitters of caffeine, but part of it is what I’m about to say. I’ve debated for a really long time if I should officially disclose this information about myself, or if it didn’t need to be disclosed.

I’ve alluded to it, or directly referenced it, in past blogs, but I don’t know how much my readers realize that those little asides are not wit, but reality.

A few weeks ago, I reached my one-year anniversary on antidepressants. I suffer from depression and depression-based anxiety, and have for as long as I can remember. But it only has become really unbearable twice in my life: when I was coming out of the closet at fifteen, and when I began college. The spring of my freshman year into the fall of my sophomore year of college, I was a complete and absolute wreck. And in January of 2015, I decided to officially seek out medication, because my living situation had become completely unbearable.

All of this has been going on for years, but that’s not really why I’m writing this. I had considered writing this for my one-year anniversary as a happy, “Yay, look at what I have accomplished” celebratory kind of post. But I cannot write that now.

In the last two weeks, two students, sophomores, from my alma mater high school have committed suicide. And now I don’t write this post for me, but for them and for others considering suicide. And as the community of my high school, current students and alumni and teachers and parents come together, I think that to not write out what I’m feeling would be to let this pass by.

I won’t go into the nitty-gritty of my own journey, because that still feels too personal for me to discuss. But I think to say nothing would be an incredible disservice to people who are suffering, and would be absolutely selfish on my part.

I don’t think people realize my history with depression, because I am usually perky and witty and laughing. I do not follow the typical attributes of a depressive; I am active, highly productive, and outgoing. I call it being a “high-functioning depressive.” And that personality fools a lot of people, which I typically like. But it also means that I look like I have my shit together. I don’t. I don’t think anyone who struggles with mental illness really does. We are all just trying to be our best self, every day. And it’s hard. And it’s tiring.

And I didn’t think that the deaths of those two sophomores, whom I have never met, would affect me like it has. And originally, it didn’t. But it sunk into my bones, underneath my skin. Because when I was fifteen, I was those boys. I was depressed. I was desperate. I was lost. I was drowning.

I remember distinctly sitting in a guidance counselor’s office at sixteen, choking on unshed tears because I could feel my chest was caving in. I was drowning in my depression. And when my depression resurged at eighteen, I also considered suicide. Not in an active, “this is how I’ll do it” kind of way. It was passive. It was, “I wish I didn’t have to wake up.” It was the desperate desire to escape my own body. It was mathematical. A car can only go so far on a finite number of gasoline. A body can only go so long on a certain amount of life. And I was tired of running on fumes.

But both times my depression has been back-breakingly, inescapably traumatic, I made the bravest decision I think anyone struggling can make. I reached out. I asked for a hand. I asked someone to help stop me from drowning.

And so I urge you to do what some people cannot. I urge you to reach out. Find someone. Find anyone. Open up the gates. Let someone in. Depression is a beast that makes you think you are alone. It tricks you into thinking that no one cares, that death is easier. More appealing. But that’s not true. Reach out. Go to a therapist. Go to a parent. Go to an adult. Go to a friend. Go to a counselor. Find someone to help you because you are infinitely important. You are important because your fight and clinging to life is what helps me cling when I feel like letting go.

You are important because you are a part of us. You are a part of me. And I need you. I need you to live because I want you to live. If you are suffering, reach out. Find me. Find someone like me. Let me help you. Let me find you support. I feel like if I didn’t say anything now, if I let this pass by without a word, I would be betraying those who still fight. I would be betraying fifteen-year-old me, who curled in a ball on his bedroom floor, sobbing into himself. I would be betraying eighteen-year-old me, who wanted so desperately to sink into sleep and never wake up.

I am okay now because I found help. I got up and searched. For me, my answer was antidepressants. It might not be for everyone. But it might be. Life will never be easy, especially for someone with mental illness. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful and worthwhile. Fight for it. Fight for that breath of air that gives you hope to keep swimming. Keep swimming. Help me. Let me help you.

And for the boys who committed suicide, I am sorry that there was no one that you felt could hear your voice. I’m sorry. And I hurt for you, and I hurt for your families. I hope that they find solace, or some peace or some release for their pain.

And for anyone who is struggling, there are an infinite numbers of sources. Go to your guidance counselor, if you’re in high school. Go to your health center, if you’re in college. Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. You are loved and cherished and you will be grieved over if you leave. Hold on. Call for help. It’s there. I promise. You won’t be like this forever. Please hold on.

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Life

THINKING OF YOU

Okay, so before I begin this blog, I just met someone who reads my blog who I’ve never met before. This hasn’t actually happened before; I’ve only known people who I didn’t expect to read my blog (Let us all remember the guy who wanted to keep the fact that he liked my writing a secret). Suddenly I’ve become less Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and a lot more Sally Field’s “You like me! You really like me!” And so I want everyone to know that I am no longer a washed-out star. I’m a TALENT.

I’m in a weird, amped up mood when I’m writing this (spoiler alert, I’m writing this on a Sunday), so I think I’ll take this post slow and chill.

I’ve been doing this thing recently that makes me feel like an adult. But not an adult in the scary, overwhelming way. But in the warm, fuzzy “I’m mature” way. I’ve been texting people when I’ve been thinking of them.

I’m a little (a lot) bit of a creep, so I find that I’m sometimes thinking about someone and wondering how they are. So, the other day, I was in Pavement—a coffeehouse on campus—which holds a lot of memories of a very special friend. So I decided I would text her. Not text her to say anything in particular, just to tell her that I was thinking of her and wishing her good vibes. I didn’t text to get a response particularly, or any sort of “pat on the back” for being thoughtful. I just wanted her to know that I was in our place and that I missed her.

And it felt so nice, and the response was so pleasant, that I started doing it more and more. I think that it’s really nice to tell someone that you’ve been thinking of them, and I know that if the roles were reversed, I would be tickled pink to know that someone’s thinking of me. But I am, as we’ve established long ago, more than my fair share of conceited.

Some people had the “lol what are you doing” response, but most people were into it. And I realized that, once I started doing it more, that a lot of people had similar responses. I think that we think of each other a lot more than we let on. And we’re more considerate than we pretend to be, for fear of being seen as “weird” or “intrusive.”

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Source: Danny McCarthy, human trashbag

And when I think about it more, the reasoning behind it becomes more clear and more dear. We all love to feel special, and I like making people feel special. Or, more realistically, letting them know that they’re special. And it’s such a small thing and only takes a few seconds, but it really makes someone’s (and your) day. Simply enough, it feels nice to be nice. And I don’t think we always realize how good it feels to be in someone’s thoughts.

The reason it makes me feel old (in a good way) is because I feel like adults reach out to each other for no reason but to say hi. Like, sometimes my friends and I will text in our group chat to see who’s around, but rarely do I text someone just to say I’m thinking of them. It feels almost too intimate, like I’m admitting that I care, or that I’m sentimental.

So I suppose the point of this post is this: try reaching out to someone for no other reason other than to make them feel special. It might be a text like mine (“Thinking of you”) or a cute little compliment or a saucy gif, but try to reach out and expect nothing in return. Don’t initiate a conversation to rear it around to yourself. Just be nice. It’s like eating celery: it’s easy to do, burns calories, and leaves you feeling better than before (albeit maybe a little hungrier).

Also since I know that all of you are practically always thinking about me, feel free to shoot some compliments my way. Was this entire blog just a large ruse to get people to be nice to me? Possibly. Will I be successful? Hopefully. Am I the center of my universe? Without a doubt. I am the sun, and y’all are the east (is that the line?). Make us Romeo and Juliet, minus the family drama and eventual double-deaths.

I don’t want to end on that vaguely morbid note, so I’ll end here. Being nice without any altruistic motives feels like a juice cleanse. It cleans out all the negative and replaces it with positive. It leaves you feeling better than before, healthier, purer. Being kind is as restorative to you as it is to the recipient.

This is me, Danny McCarthy, America’s treasure, signing off!

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Celebrity Sunday, pop culture

OH JE(YE)EZ

An in-depth dissection of what went down on Wednesday.

I triaged to the triad of the Kanye West-Wiz Khalifa-Amber Rose mess (suck my ass, Shelby)—

Side bar: I don’t actually know the real meaning of “triage” but that’s not gonna stop me from triaging—

And I’m not going to do a full rundown of the entire history of the triangle, because Sam Stryker from BuzzFeed already did that and he probably did it better than me, so I’m just going to highlight the best moments.

Okay, so if you were living under a rock—or under The Rock, amiright ladies—then you might not know what went down on Wednesday. But mama’s here to tell you. I’m mama, for reference.

First, for references:

Kanye dated Amber Rose before marrying Kim Kardashian, and Amber Rose has a child with Wiz Khalifa. Amber’s former friend is Kim Kardashian, and her current best friend is Blac Chyna, who has a child with Tyga who is currently dating Kylie Jenner, and Blac Chyna has recently begun a relationship with Rob Kardashian. Khloe Kardashian has had major beef with Blac Chyna over Kylie Jenner, and recently tweeted some shady things about “not going against the fambily (Caroline Manzo voice)” that could be interpreted about Rob and Chyna’s new relationship. Okay, are we all good?

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Source: @kanyewest

On Tuesday, Ye—‘Ye* (?)—announced that he was changing the name of his album to WAVES. First of all, I enjoy it. But then Wiz tweeted at him basically saying that he didn’t like the name change and that Kanye should “hit this kk” and get back to his roots. Apparently “kk” is code for that sweet dank kush—marijuana—as well as me when I’m trying to be salty over text, but Kanye took it as a slight dig at his wifey, Kim Kardashian West.

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Source: @wizkhalifa

That, clearly, didn’t go over well. Over a series of more than seventeen tweets, Kanye proceeded to wreck all over Wiz, insulting his music, his pants (?), his slim frame, and—and this is important—Amber Rose, Wiz’s ex. And since it wouldn’t be Kanye if Kanye wasn’t promoting Kanye, Kanye also made the tweets a backdoor brag for himself, claiming that though he wasn’t “tall and skinny” he was still the greatest artist that ever lived and is the pinnacle of music creation. Maybe that’s not so much of a backdoor brag as it is a full-out BRAAAAAAAAG.

So the fourth tweet is where things get interesting. Kanye says, “You let a stripper trap you.” The “stripper” in question is Amber Rose, a mutual ex of both Kanye and Wiz. Kanye dated Amber first, and then when they broke up, Amber and Wiz got together, eventually having a son, Sebastian Taylor Thomaz (which is straight up such a cute name). Kanye went on to marry Kim, and have two children: North and Saint.

Kanye has disparaged Amber in the past, claiming that he had to take “thirty showers” after being with Amber before he could be with Kim, and has taunted Wiz saying that Amber “trapped” Wiz for 18 years with their son, and that he basically “owned” Wiz and Amber’s son and made him happen.

Ouch. And ew.

Now, we all know that Kanye is a complete egomaniac and has said on multiple occasions that the biggest crime of human history is that he will never get to see himself live. I disagree, but let’s not split hairs. But his comments on Twitter—which he has since deleted—contain such a heavy misogyny and double-standard that it’s painful.

Amber Rose seems to be shaded by past men in her life, to the point where they’re practically obsessed with her. Her past as a stripper and her outspoken sexuality are demonized by Wiz and Kanye, but she refuses to bend, appearing at the 2015 VMAs with Blac Chyna wearing dresses covered in misogynistic slurs, and hosting the Slut Walk soon after. So, she’s basically amazing and refers to herself as “Muva” in the third person on Twitter.

Amber hit back against Kanye by saying that she was hurt by his words and wouldn’t ever attack him like he’s attacked her, because regardless of where they are now, they were once in love. She’s so dope. But she’s also not taking shit, so she entered the dialogue with this iconic tweet:

“Awww @kanyewest are u mad I’m not around to play in ur asshole anymore? #FingersInTheBootyAssBitch (pointer finger emoji).”

AND THE WORLD JUST STOPPED.

AMBER ALERT. She’s throwing down.

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Source: Wifflegif

And later on the Allegedly podcast, Amber said that she would never talk shit about Kanye’s kids because A) she’s classy, and B) they’re kids. She’s disgusted that Kanye would talk about her son, but she’s not surprised. And are any of us surprised?

It was Tyler Oakley who said that if you hate someone, then why would you give them promo? And Kanye West has been essentially giving promo to Amber for years. He calls her a slut and a stripper and tries to demolish her, but they dated for over two years. They went around the world together. His anger towards her is curious and interesting, and it goes beyond just a nasty break-up.

Kanye West employs a dangerous double-standard, lauding his wife Kim and demonizing his ex Amber. But how can you do that? How can you do that? How can you have a wife and a daughter whom you praise and cherish and completely trash on someone else’s mother, someone else’s daughter? You can’t. You shouldn’t.

How can you slut-shame when you have seen firsthand people do the same to your wife and watched her go through that? How can you witness that and then turn around and completely shame another woman?

Kanye’s misogyny is dangerous, because it employs the stereotype that owning your sexuality makes you a slut, and being married makes you virtuous. I love Kim and the entire Kardashian clan, but how different are they from Amber? All are strong, independent, capable women who own their sexuality. But Amber is slut-shamed and shunned whereas we applaud Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, and Kylie.

You don’t have to love everyone, but you should always respect them. And Kanye’s treatment of Amber shows that to him, respect for women is circumstantial. That if you’re on his bad side, you’re a whore and a bitch and a slut. But if you’re on his good side, you are virtuous and noteworthy. But how easy is it to slip from side to side? Answer: very easy.

Kanye is teaching the world that however much he loves and honors the women in his life, he is still a misogynist because he relies on sexist, misogynistic and derogatory language to tear down a woman for her sexuality and her independence. His rhetoric is damaging for his listeners, his daughter, and his family, because he is perpetuating slut-shaming. Like bro, can we not? Can we absolutely abstain from slut-shaming?

Muva Amber doesn’t need my help in defending herself, so I won’t go into all of her amazing attributes. But I will say this. She is strong, and she defends herself. And she refuses to be ashamed or stoop to low levels. She has respect for Kanye when he doesn’t have respect for her, and that is such a hard thing to remain on the high road when some asshole is slinging mud at you from below.

So now you’re all caught up, and, frankly, you’re welcome. It was exhausting. I suppose what we’re supposed to do now is just watch and wait and see what happens. Either way, I don’t really anticipate anything beyond Amber owning it and Kanye just digging himself into a hole with a gold-plated shovel. Über-chic, but still tragic.

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Life, Rambles

HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH STRESS?

The title isn’t rhetorical or one of those self-help ads. I don’t have an answer, and I would really like someone to give me one. But I feel like it’s one of those annoying things where I have to “discover” my “answer” for myself. Just once I wish the hard questions in life, the ones that actually mattered, were the ones that I could copy someone’s answer. We live in a cruel world where I can cheat on a test—which I’ve only done once when I didn’t know the last kind of “volcano” in seventh grade—but no one can tell me how to find inner peace.

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I feel like I could laugh from how tightly wound I am. There must be something animalistic about it, the desire to let out some sort of loud howl—disguised as a laugh—when everything seems like a big ole bag of shit.

I also wish that I were stressed with big things. But instead it’s like a sandstorm; small, separately inconsequential nuisances that together can bury a car under a dune, or, more importantly, get in your mouth and you can’t really get rid of it. But it’s just been little things: I sent a paper to the wrong printer, and ended up late for a class that I’m always late for, and it’s beginning to get less charming when I walk in after the start. My buzzcut has stopped being G.I. Jane and started being G.I. Plain—nothing good rhymes with “Joe” so we all make sacrifices. I had to buy a domain. And then I had to cancel it. And then I had to buy another one. And cancel that one. And then buy a third one, and finally that stuck.

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And then just a bunch of other little things that, added together, make me want to do that charming and cute thing of punching a wall. Also the hallway outside of my apartment smells like cheese. And not in a good way. Or in a Gouda way. Am I right??

Maybe I’ll start meditation. I always try to say that I’ll start meditation, and then I do two minutes and think of something funny on YouTube, or I’ll get a text, or I’ll want to Tweet about meditating and all of a sudden my focus is broken and it’s twenty minutes of blue screens.

And I don’t like being stressed. I know that’s a total duh but for me it’s particularly negative. I find it so hard to write and be creative and focus when I’m stressed, and since that’s, like, ninety percent of what I do as a student and a writer and since I’m God’s gift to the world—very Kanye West of me (speaking of which, have you been following the Kanye-Wiz-Amber feud? So fascinating. I’m on Amber’s side.)—when my work suffers, the entire world suffers.

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And since I live alone, I don’t really have anyone to vent to at the moment when I’m feeling super stressed, and stressed-out Danny tends to be withdrawn Danny, or “tries to trip others” Danny, and that’s gonna land me in a whole heap of trouble on top of everything else.

So I guess what I’m saying is…any tips? Stress is hard, and I feel like it’s one of those things that we dismiss or try to minimize, like it’s such a little problem to have that we almost feel guilty admitting that we have it. But it’s big and weighty and it affects how you act and treat people.

Lastly, I don’t think I can stick behind Kocktails with Khloe any longer. I’ve made it through fifteen minutes of episode two, and it’s so painful that I’m jabbing fingers into my eyes because even that’s less awful.

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Maybe I should start snapping pencils as a way of release. Somehow that seems like the most depressing option, even more than binge-eating Oreos, which is what I’m on the road to doing.

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Essay, Inspirational

WHY POP CULTURE MATTERS

A large part of why I am often hesitant to label myself a “journalist” is due to the lack of representation that anything other than “hard news” gets in journalism classes. Professors act on the assumption that we all want to be helicoptering into Iraq, or walking the streets of a broken-down city to get a story of a struggling kid with a heart of gold. They act on the assumption that those kinds of stories, hard news and gritty, are the only of substance.

And while there is literally nothing wrong with that kind of reporting—we obviously need it—I’m tired of that being the primary. I was in a journalism class where the professor was discussing the skills we’ll need if we want to succeed. But those skills were only really marketable if I’m going to be pursuing a career as a Woodward and Bernstein “on the case” reporter. He demerited the importance of “first person narrative” and how it has no place as the first mode of storytelling.

But the kind of journalism I want to do—pop culture—relies on my voice and my narrative and the ability of an audience to trust me to be funny and knowledgeable and real. And I couldn’t maintain a straight face because, three years into it, I was tired. I was tired of feeling like I was dumb for wanting to talk about pop or that my career wouldn’t have as much value as if I was to follow a more traditional career path.

Not every journalist wants to write for the New York Times. Not every reporter wants to be going undercover, tailing a lead or spending hours into the night poring over ancient tomes. And that’s okay.

I love pop culture. I love dissecting it and discussing it and thinking about it. Because pop culture, of which celebrity culture and the “Stars: They’re Just Like Us” is only a very small part, is the representation of what people are thinking. And that’s as important as knowing what’s going on. I love people—from celebrity to politics to local news—and I love studying them. I love seeing what makes them passionate or angry or happy. I’m a pop cultural anthropologist.

And here’s why pop culture matters: because we can take individual celebrity instances and stretch them into a wider scope. Nicki Minaj calling out Miley Cyrus publicly at the 2015 VMAs pointed to the complex way that the media portrays black women. The world buys into the “Angry Black Woman” model and it plays out over and over, with Nicki, or with Amandla Stenberg. And the portrayal of Caitlyn Jenner as the leader of the trans community because of her white, priviledged, and cisnormative conventional beauty is a reflection of our desire to keep the status quo. Because trans people aren’t making her their leader. Cisgender people are looking to her because she is palatable.

Pop culture brings conversations of cultural appropriation, transgender politics, and gender equality into the public dialogue. And that’s important. And it’s important how we laud women like Jennifer Lawrence and Amy Schumer for being “real” while simultaneously shaming women by putting a size 10 model—below the national average for women’s sizing—on the forefront of the Calvin Klein “Plus Size Range.” And even the fact that we use language like “plus” to alienate woman and other them is mind-blowing.

Pop culture simultaneously shows how far we’ve come and how far we have still to go. It can be both serious and silly, stimulating and mindless. And that’s why it’s amazing. Because it is what we are talking about, what we think about. And if the day-to-day journalism of pop culture is as prevalent in our lives as hard-hitting news, why is it not represented in my journalism classes?

I just want to feel like my interest is valid. I want to be in a classroom where I can stand next to someone who wants to write about Middle Eastern conflict and I can say that I would rather discuss the career trajectory of Hollywood It-Girls or the media empire of the Kardashians. Like, wouldn’t that be so cool?

And on a large scale, wouldn’t it be so cool if we could all feel accepted and lauded for our career interests?

If you have an interest and a driving passion and it’s not hurting anybody and you want to pursue it, I want you to. I want to write about pop culture and write books about myself and review TV shows and live-tweet the red carpet of the Golden Globes. And that’s dope that I want to. Like, I’m not cooking cocaine in my kitchen. I just want to be weird and funny and make people laugh and think. I want to be someone’s “having a bad day so I’m gonna read this.” I want to be someone’s security blanket. I want to uplift and take our collective minds off the bad things and just, if even for a moment, laugh and cringe and be happy.

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And that’s as important and as valuable as being a New York Times reporter. Cue the Hailee Steinfeld “Love Myself” emotional collage.

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Review, Things I Like

REVIEW: KOCKTAILS WITH KHLOE

Grade: B-

I made a conscious effort to enjoy Kocktails With Khloe and even by repeating, “You like the Kardashians, you like the Kardashians,” I still kept checking the time left on the episode because it’s kind of a trainwreck.

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Kocktails doesn’t have a traditional camera set-up. It’s more of a hidden-in-the-walls, rigged to the ceiling situation, which feels about as intimate as watching someone in the locker room. Not that I’ve ever done that.

The guests come in through the front door—Kym Whitley, Brandi Glanville, and Aisha Tyler. And there’s a hot bartender who’s making custom drinks and his name is Sharone which is confusing to me but I’m not gonna pursue it.

Since the set is a “house” and the guests come through the front door, I have a few questions. Do they have coats? Where does the front door go to? Do they have to wipe their feet?

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The conversation is a little stilted and uncomfortable, and it’s mostly just Kym hitting on Sharone—who is married with kids—and Brandi Glanville refuses to talk about her ex-husband’s wife Leann Rimes. Brandi Glanville also makes me uncomfortable because she has total shark-eyes and I think she’s unpredictable, like she’s going to reach through the screen and grab my throat. Also later on she admitted to a threesome, so why can’t you give me the gossip about you and Leann?? Also they never even talk about how Brandi fell off a hoverboard. Literally stop avoiding all the things I care about.

Aisha Tyler is hands-down awesome—even when casually promoting her new range of alcohol (how koincidental)—and after a while, the awkwardness begins to dissipate. They do a lot of moving around—kitchen counter to couch to round table—so I want to go on the show just to get a major workout. And they play a lot of physical games—hop on one foot if you’ve ever…xyz or Brandi dancing like a ballerina as she admits to a threesome—and play “Would Or Wouldn’t Bang” which is only slightly more uncomfortable than watching a couple fight in the grocery store.

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It also feels a little bit forced in the “girl talk” sections when Khloe is forcibly cackling when talking about wanting to bang Michael Fassbender. Like I wanna bang him too, but ladeez please.

Also omg Kendall Jenner was there. I had literally forgotten that until just now because she looked so uncomfortable. I mean, her outfit was amazing, but you could tell that Khloe pulled some sort of IOU to get her there.

Snoop Dogg shows up, because…I’m not sure why. The only thing I knew is that he doesn’t smoke pot while he coaches boys’ baseball and that he had no idea he was in Straight Outta Compton until he was in the theater watching the movie and saw someone playing him.

Also I learned that when Khloe gets to drinking, she becomes Khlomoney. Which is uncomfortable.

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Some of the conversations are totally amazing—like Khloe talking about the double-standard of dating while separated, and Aisha and Kym talking about black women being represented in the media.

I think that the format leaves a lot to be desired, but that can always be reworked. Like, because it’s a talk show and it’s discussion-based, sometimes it can feel like it drags on. And I don’t think FYI wants me to be eighteen minutes in and feeling like it’s been forty minutes. With a little more structure—even though they “breaking the mold by changing up the late night format”—I think that Kocktails could actually be funny. Khloe is the most outspoken and doesn’t do that whole “whisper-talk” thing, so I think that she could really have a career out of interviewing people.

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