Thursday, February 24, 2011

Fuck You, Nathan Rabin

It should be noted that in a few weeks, I'll be giving up swearing for Lent, so I might as well get this out now.

Fuck you in the face, you hipster douchebag

Rabin's "Two Cheers for the Maligned Slacker Dude" is the most self-serving piece of tripe I've read this side of, well, The AV Club.  For starters, fuck him for thinking he understand what it means to be a 20-something.  Rabin is 35 years old.  He's in a completely different generation from the so-called "slackers" he's writing about.

Secondly, the difference between the Gen-X slacker and the New Slacker Rabin can't shut up about is that the New Slacker comes from a different economic situation.  Mark Zuckerberg didn't create/steal Facebook from the dorm of his state college, he started it from Harvard.  This generation of losers can afford to waste time on MFAs in lolcats because their helicopter parents will let them move back in with them.

And hey, what about slacker broads?  What about those of us who are putting off marriage and children in the face of our mothers asking when we're going to get hitched, or our sisters and friends who've already had babies?  Why not?  Rabin knows as much about being a woman as he does about being a 20-something--i.e nothing. 

Worse, I hate being praised for the so-called courage of my creativity.  I don't need you to pat me on the back, Rabin.  I lost my job and we're heating our place with space heaters and wool sweaters because we can't afford fuel oil and we don't qualify for any government subsity programs.  I chose to major in creative writing, I chose to go to grad school for the same thing. It's my fault that I'm cold, but damn it if I'm not busting my ass to send out submissions, write another novel (the first two were universally rejected) write spec scripts with my awesome partner Matthew (a badass Gen-Xer who could hand Rabin his ass) and make my degree work for me.  Hell, this blog was started as a grad school project.  I don't need a handjob from Nathan Rabin any more than I need anyone's pity.

I didn't go into writing to be brave.  I didn't go into it to make money.  I went into writing because 1) I didn't get into theater school and 2) Because I love writing.  I love writing enough to risk being cold and hungry and miserable for it.  Having some of that Harlan Cobin money would be nice, but it's not my sole reason for putting pen to paper.  There are easier things I could do for cash, like escort work. 

For a really lovely piece of writing on Nathan Rabin, check out Daryl "Fucking" Hall's Profiles in Coverage, which features a picture of Rabin looking like David Cross' wang in a novelty colored condom from the punchbow in the RA office.

 And finally, to apologize for all this rage and for yesterday's picture of Snooki, here is a picture of my kitten, Bosco, with his tongue sticking out.  Yes, those are my mix CDs on the floor behind him.

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