Couldn’t resist sharing this:
[via fucked in park slope]
When will bloggers get their Woodward and Bernstein, some heroes to make this whole thing seem cool, dangerous and meaningful (that is, cool outside the twitosphere, because twitter cool and blog famous are still pale reflections of their real world counterparts)?. I remember reading an essay in the Washington Post around the time of Deep Throat’s outing reflecting on the nature of being a reporter in the late 70s when, the author said, it was still possible to go to a bar, tell a girl you were a reporter for the Post and have her come home with you for the night into your alluringly dangerous den of police scanner crackle and fire-hazard piles of notebooks. The thoughts of the kind of whiskey bottle-strewn hovel a girl would envision in this scenario today typically prevent me from dropping the “reporter” word until second or third date (if I can afford such a thing).
We’ve got to be close, right? Because right now, the closest thing to a blogging world sex hero is this guy:
Female bloggers, of course, have had much more success in this field of coming off as hot-by-profession, because they’ve already had someone who was brilliant and sassy, and understood the real power of how a blog can slice through the musty blather of the old media sphere:
Related: I would hereby like to start the campaign to draft Ana Marie Cox to play Oracle (aka Barbara Gordon) in the next Batman movie.
I don’t know if she’s ever acted before, but it’s a perfect stylistic fit (skip all the Batgirl parts which, though cool, wouldn’t be as much an asset to the franchise as the introduction of the paraplegic computer whiz). She can actually accurately cover the tech appeal angle, and she can probably kick some ass when necessary, a fact I do not know for certain but would be willing to offer up Tucker Carlson as a test dummy to find out for sure.
Are you listening to me, Christopher Nolan? No, of course not, because no one pays attenttion to the undersexed bloggers. Yet.
Bah. Just dye January Jones’ hair red. Bam. There’s your Oracle.