(no subject)
Glamour Magazine is more dangerous than marijuana, but only one is illegal. The wrong one.
For explanation, press
The National Center for Toxicological Research exposed 64 Rhesus monkeys to the equivalent of 6 joints of marijuana smoke per day, every day for one year. Over the course of that year, they showed no degeneration in brain function of any kind.
Glamour Magazine on the other hand will shortly be visiting my school. A film school in which my class of 65 has 11 girls. I preface with this due to the reason Glamour Magazine is visiting my school. The reason they are visiting, is to showcase 3 short films written by their readers and directed by women. I didn't want to go, just for the fact that I don't care much for most required screenings, especially if the guest artist isn't a cinematographer. However, upon reading the summaries sent to us, I really want to go. I want to go, not because I was touched by some woman's riveting story, but because I am desperately hoping that these women did something amazing with these shitty average women's magazine stories. If they didn't then I would like to take the opportunity to ask this woman to her face why she picked these stories. Three stories that emphasize in three different ways that you'll never lead a happy, successful life until you've got a man who gives your life meaning. Though I suppose the question really answers itself. What a counterintuitive industry, the womens magazine business is. A magazine designed by women that specializes in conveying to women that they're not pretty enough, smart enough, skinny enough, good enough to do anything by themselves. Now, as the only first choice female cinematographer, in a discipline where even a confidant, "I can do anything a man can do" woman such as myself feels the need to staple a penis to herself and start peeing on stuff to fit in, this, for lack of a better word, sucks. It's the cigarette companies putting out anti-smoking ads. They claim they want equality, and equal opportunities, but they publish "how to tell if you're man's cheating" (because why would he want to stay with you anyway? You're not a size 2 with double Ds like all our models.)
Of course, I do not, nor have I ever read this magazine (ok maybe once in the waiting room of the doctors office, but it was either that or Highlights and some kid with strep had drooled all over that one.) Though I may have qualms with its subject matter, I can't call for the destruction of the magazine itself, as no once forces me to read it. However, I am being forced to watch them claim to bridge the gender gap with my peers which, should my hypothesis prove correct, will undoubtedly be detrimental to my struggle for equality in the workforce.
For explanation, press
The National Center for Toxicological Research exposed 64 Rhesus monkeys to the equivalent of 6 joints of marijuana smoke per day, every day for one year. Over the course of that year, they showed no degeneration in brain function of any kind.
Glamour Magazine on the other hand will shortly be visiting my school. A film school in which my class of 65 has 11 girls. I preface with this due to the reason Glamour Magazine is visiting my school. The reason they are visiting, is to showcase 3 short films written by their readers and directed by women. I didn't want to go, just for the fact that I don't care much for most required screenings, especially if the guest artist isn't a cinematographer. However, upon reading the summaries sent to us, I really want to go. I want to go, not because I was touched by some woman's riveting story, but because I am desperately hoping that these women did something amazing with these shitty average women's magazine stories. If they didn't then I would like to take the opportunity to ask this woman to her face why she picked these stories. Three stories that emphasize in three different ways that you'll never lead a happy, successful life until you've got a man who gives your life meaning. Though I suppose the question really answers itself. What a counterintuitive industry, the womens magazine business is. A magazine designed by women that specializes in conveying to women that they're not pretty enough, smart enough, skinny enough, good enough to do anything by themselves. Now, as the only first choice female cinematographer, in a discipline where even a confidant, "I can do anything a man can do" woman such as myself feels the need to staple a penis to herself and start peeing on stuff to fit in, this, for lack of a better word, sucks. It's the cigarette companies putting out anti-smoking ads. They claim they want equality, and equal opportunities, but they publish "how to tell if you're man's cheating" (because why would he want to stay with you anyway? You're not a size 2 with double Ds like all our models.)
Of course, I do not, nor have I ever read this magazine (ok maybe once in the waiting room of the doctors office, but it was either that or Highlights and some kid with strep had drooled all over that one.) Though I may have qualms with its subject matter, I can't call for the destruction of the magazine itself, as no once forces me to read it. However, I am being forced to watch them claim to bridge the gender gap with my peers which, should my hypothesis prove correct, will undoubtedly be detrimental to my struggle for equality in the workforce.