Binch Press

The shocked gasp that rose from those children when I lifted a book up and Ripped it in two thrilled me a bit more than is probably okay. I then had to explain that these are old, cheap books, no one will want or buy them, they’re falling apart, etc. Reusing them for art is a kinder fate than throwing them straight in the trash.

A few of them ended up being delighted in the transgressive feeling of cutting up a book to use in art. If they remember anything from camp, it’ll probably be that moment

When an English teacher, or reader, taught or picked up 1984, it wasn’t with the intention they were going to love the protagonist. They picked it up with the intention of reading a whole story and trying to grasp the theme or catharsis from the story. If the protagonist was a *shitty* person it played into the the themes or the story, because it wasn’t about morally judging the book or *liking* or feeling attachment to the protagonist. Sometimes and often times, books were just about gaining another perspective. 

No one read Lolita expecting to endear, or like, or be inspired by Humbert. You are supposed to be upset by his behavior, you don’t read Lolita with the intention of being inspired. You read it to learn more about what the fuck is going on inside someone’s head when they behave like that. How children get sucked into abusive situations. Or read “The Great Gatsby” not because they want to fall in love with Gatsby or Nick, but to better understand and analyze the experience of the 1920s or destitution of the American Dream. 

A lot of internet and fandom culture has changed that though. When we say something like “I love the Great Gatsby” it comes with the idea or association that means you must *love* or relate to one of the characters. And maybe you do, but the first assumption is not longer about the quality of the work or themes, or cathartic impact-it’s about character admiration. And with that character admiration, in tumblr stan culture, or kin culture, or exalting characters with fanart/romance/so on you don’t just ‘admire’ or find that character ‘compelling’ it now translates to ‘you LOVE that character’ or you ‘DIRECTLY relate to that character.’ 

You can’t say “I love how Humbert is written, it’s so fascinating and dark”, without it directly translating you somehow relate to a child abuser or condone his actions. Taking in media has become an act of worship and connection. We no longer watch meant to just see the story as a whole, we watch expecting to connect to a character and if we offer them our “worship” as it’s become, as opposed to just attention or interest study as it traditionally was, it means we are condoning the character or saying we directly empathize with all their actions. 

I think that’s why there is often now so much fuss over *toxic* characters or not. Or whether that classical novel is showing good or bad things anymore. We’re treating the characters as people we should love or want to draw or write about. Sometimes a story is just about getting the the theme or catharsis or learning another perspective. We don’t NEED to like the character. Or we don’t HAVE to like a character to be impressed by how they’re written or intrigued by their behavior. 

what about "i'd live for you" romances? what about "i never thought i'd be worth the work it would take to piece myself together"?

Baby bears

My current roommate and I met on Tumblr. In the first three minutes I knew her I KNEW HER ADDRESS FROM HER ETSY. She only lived three miles down and one block over from me. Once we became friends, it took me literally fifteen minutes to drive to her house.

“Okay, but you guys are friends, roommates even, you love each other, what’s the problem?”

The problem is, this story doesn’t always have a happy ending.

The problem is, in another story I’m still 32, but she’s 15 instead of 43, and I’m an asshole.

The problem is, I am an adult. If a first meeting goes wrong, I have a car, a cell phone, and a tire iron in said car that I could defend myself with. What do you have?

The problem is, if you put identifying information out in the open, it could cross paths with someone who only lives 15 minutes away. And maybe they don’t care, and maybe they’re a chill person! That’s often the case.

But maybe they’re not.

“But I don’t put that kind of information—”

Listen. I’m gonna tell you I went to high school at General McLane and grew up by the cove. I’m going to mention that I HATED walking to my bus stop because it was out by the highway. At some point in our conversations, I mention that I’m walking down to the corner to get some ice cream.

Go onto Google and see how long it takes you to figure out, within a quarter-mile radius, where I grew up.

I can tell you how long it took me, using only the information I just provided you: two minutes. I looked up the school and got the address. That gave me the town name. I put that into Google Maps. I found Edinboro Lake and another body of water near it. Zoomed in on the streets near that second body of water, and boom. Cove Drive, right next to an ice cream shop, opening onto a highway.

You now have a radius of less than two blocks where I might have lived.

Do you feel a little less safe putting that information out there? You should. Because I didn’t use any special programs, any elite hacking knowledge. I used nothing but Google, the name of a high school, and two offhand conversational mentions, and in two minutes I’d narrowed it down to a single block. Go ahead—try it yourself.

And yes—I can do this for my roommate, too, even having never been to her hometown. All I need to know is the name of her town and a story about crossing the street and a neighbor’s yard to get to the Walmart.

Do not put this information out there, guys. 95% of people you will meet online are legit. Many are delightful.

Which is a bonus reminder: You never know what useful, even critical information someone already knows that could also help them find you.

KEEP PERSONAL INFORMATION PERSONAL.

But if I still lived in that house? I would have just handed them the metaphorical keys. (That’s why I picked a house I moved out of in 2004.) I assume they’re a cool person or they wouldn’t be screaming desperately with me about it. But what if they weren’t?