“As a kid I would sometimes scream "I hate you!" to my parents at the top of my lungs. The trigger for this varied. Maybe they had broken the news to me that a playdate needed to be rescheduled, or maybe my television privileges had been revoked until I did my home-work. I probably said it, too, when they sat me down to review our new holiday itinerary during the first year of their divorce. Of course, I didn't mean that I hated them literally. To be honest, I don't think I knew what I meant. Maybe it was the preternatural entitlement that is found in only children, but I think it was something else: "Hate" was the only shorthand I had to express such big and indescribable feelings. Because I couldn't yet say "I am feeling something so profound and complex, the scope of which my burgeoning emotional vocabulary does not contain the words to describe, but if you'll be so kind as to give me space to process these emotions, I will accurately diagnose what is happening to me, I just said, "I hate you” instead. The closest approximation.
I wonder if a similar phenomenon was happening when this constant barrage of digital negativity came my way at such a fast rate. That in its relentlessness it became impossible to distinguish the level of severity of each comment or message. Perhaps, like my gestating mind in childhood, my developing digital mind didn't know how to process such a huge volume of criticism. So, instead of calling the folder on my desktop the "WIDE SPECTRUM OF DIGITAL NEGATIVITY THAT RANGES FROM MILD GRIEVANCE TO LITERAL DEATH THREATS OH AND ALSO TOTALLY JUSTIFIED CRITICISM, ALL OF WHICH COME FROM INDIVIDUAL HUMANS WITH THEIR OWN UNIQUE BACKSTORIES AND EXPERIENCES FOLDER,” I instead simply called it the HATE FOLDER, which got the job done much quicker.
-Dylan Marron, Conversations with People Who Hate Me
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I've been listening to Conversations With People Who Hate Me (which is SO FASCINATING, and has actually given me hope re: talking to my dad about some stuff) instead of watching 4x01, but I'm going to catch up today. ❤
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J. A. Jance and Dylan Marron: Conversations on the 'Net
I actually was quite enamored by the "crazy" idea I had of reading 50/50 fiction and nonfiction, and I figured one way to do it was to pair books together. The first of this experiment is Edge of Evil, by J. A. Jance in 2006, and Conversations with People Who Hate Me by Dylan Marron in 2022, and it wasn’t on purpose so I’m glad it worked out. The best feature of Edge of Evil is Ali Reynolds blog, CutLoose, about having been fired from her newcaster position for younger talent, and then divorced for a younger mistress. Ali gets opinions and threats from all sorts of people, and feels genuine connection to some of them. She works through the mystery of whether her friend committed suicide on a dangerous road or was run off and who by, while strangers watch her and send her encouraging and discouraging emails. After some red herrings the ending surprised me, but more in the way of me not recognizing the name due to skimming too much. Like I said, the blogs are the best part, but there were a lot of other parts. Dylan Marron doesn’t blog because video killed the radio-star: he’s an actor, so he does podcasts, short-form video, and proformance art. His memoir is named after his podcast, and it’s the story of his career leading up to the podcast, and all the triumphs and tribulations of it. Yeah I don’t really have essay or anything... I could just soapbox about how service workers are treated, since Dylan Marron learned a ‘valuable lesson’ at a vegan restaurant and Ali Reynolds helped her parents with their diner while her father was in the hospital, but it would only make us both crabby.
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I just started listening to “conversations with people who hate me” and I love Dylan marron so much like such a girl boss how is he such a good guy and so good at having conversations with different people
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today, my coworkers’ refusal to see me as a man put one of our patients in a position where they felt unsafe for the third time. i’ve been at this job for less than two months total. i don’t even care about getting misgendered anymore, i just want the people we’re supposed to be taking care of to feel comfortable around me.
i work at a hospital where we have to supervise our patients in a lot of vulnerable situations. there are safeguarding rules in place for certain things that male employees aren’t allowed to be present for when it comes to female patients. and yet, the people training me and telling me what to do have repeatedly put me in situations where i’ve been forced to do things that the female patients aren’t comfortable with me doing. and because they have repeatedly failed to teach me the rules for doing my job as a man, i have no way of knowing when i’m crossing one of those lines unless one of the patients tells me.
i’ve had to watch a victim of SA stare at me in abject terror as my coworkers asked her to strip naked with me still in the room. it took several minutes for her to even be able to speak enough to ask if i could leave the room. i found out after that she broke down crying the moment i walked out. my biggest regret is that i didn’t realize what was happening fast enough to leave before she ever had to say something, because she shouldn’t have had to say it. i never should’ve been allowed in the room in the first place, because that’s not something male employees are supposed to be present for. but i didn’t know that yet, because i was training and i thought surely, they wouldn’t train me to do something that directly violated their own safeguarding rules. that moment was the first time, and it’s haunted me ever since, but it wasn’t the last time. not only did it happen for the third time today — it almost happened for the fourth, and would have if someone hadn’t spoken up to say they should pick someone else. i care for these people so deeply, it’s why i took this job, and i’m so tired of hearing the fear in their voices when they have to ask me not to do something i never should’ve been told to do.
i’m very used to the personal discomfort of being misgendered. i willingly deal with it a lot at work as well as in other situations, not because i’m in the closet (at this point in my medical transition that would be impossible), but because it’s such a frequent occurrence with my coworkers that we would never get anything done if i took the time to correct them every time. but to see it get to the point of causing such visceral discomfort in other people? people i’m supposed to be taking care of and keeping safe? that’s something else entirely, and i’m fucking exhausted.
and after all of that, some of them still look at me like i have two heads when they tell me what to do and i say “i can’t do that, only female employees can” because i’m learning now. clearly i’m already seen as a man by our patients, but my coworkers would still rather put them in an unsafe situation than just train me as a man.
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Dylan Marron's Conversations With People Who Hate Me is very interesting, but it's also stressing me out.
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With the rise of booktok/booktwt, there's been this weird movement against literary criticism. It's a bizarre phenomenon, but this uptick in condemnation of criticism is so stifling. I understand that with the rise of these platforms, many people are being reintroduced into the habit of reading, which is why at the base level, I understand why many 'popular' books on booktok tend to be cozier.
The argument always falls into the 'this book means too much to me' or 'let people enjoy things,' which is rhetoric I understand -- at least fundamentally. But reading and writing have always been conduits for criticism, healthy natural criticism. We grow as writers and readers because of criticism. It's just so frustrating to see arguments like "how could you not like this character they've been the x trauma," or "why read this book if you're not going to come out liking it," and it's like...why not. That has always been the point of reading. Having a character go through copious amounts of trauma does not always translate to a character that's well-crafted. Good worldbuilding doesn't always translate to having a good story, or having beautiful prose doesn't always translate into a good plot.
There is just so much that goes into writing a story other than being able to formulate tropable (is that a word lol) characters. Good ideas don't always translate into good stories. And engaging critically with the text you read is how we figure that out, how we make sure authors are giving us a good craft. Writing is a form of entertainment too, and just like we'd do a poorly crafted show, we should always be questioning the things we read, even if we enjoy those things.
It's just werd to see people argue that we shouldn't read literature unless we know for certain we are going to like it. Or seeing people not be able to stand honest criticism of the world they've fallen in love with. I love ASOIAF -- but boy oh boy are there a lot of problems in the story: racial undertones, questionable writing decisions, weird ness overall. I also think engaging critically helps us understand how an author's biases can inform what they write. Like, HP Lovecraft wrote eerie stories, he was also a raging racist. But we can argue that his fear of PoC, his antisemitism, and all of his weird fears informed a lot of what he was writing. His writing is so eerie because a lot of that fear comes from very real, nasty places. It's not to say we have to censor his works, but he influences a lot of horror today and those fears, that racial undertone, it is still very prevalent in horror movies today. That fear of the 'unknown,'
Gone with the Wind is an incredibly racist book. It's also a well-written book. I think a lot of people also like confine criticism to just a syntax/prose/technical level -- when in reality criticism should also be applied on an ideological level. Books that are well-written, well-plotted, etc., are also -- and should also -- be up for criticism. A book can be very well-written and also propagate harmful ideologies. I often read books that I know that (on an ideological level), I might not agree with. We can learn a lot from the books we read, even the ones we hate.
I just feel like we're getting to the point where people are just telling people to 'shut up and read' and making spaces for conversation a uniform experience. I don't want to be in a space where everyone agrees with the same point. Either people won't accept criticism of their favorite book, or they think criticism shouldn't be applied to books they think are well written. Reading invokes natural criticism -- so does writing. That's literally what writing is; asking questions, interrogating the world around you. It's why we have literary devices, techniques, and elements. It's never just taking the words being printed at face value.
You can identify with a character's trauma and still understand that their badly written. You can read a story, hate everything about it, and still like a character. As I stated a while back, I'm reading Fourth Wing; the book is terrible, but I like the main character. The worldbuilding is also terrible, but the author writes her PoC characters with respect. It's not hard to acknowledge one thing about the text, and still find enough to enjoy the book. And authors grow when we're honest about what worked and what didn't work. Shadow and Bone was very formulaic and derivative at points, but Six of Crows is much more inventive and inclusive. Veronica Roth's Carve the Mark had some weird racial problems, but Chosen Ones was a much better book in terms of representation. Percy Jackson is the same way. These writers grow, not just by virtue of time, but because they were critiqued and listened to that critique. C.S. Lewis and Tolkien always publically criticized each other's work. Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes had a legendary friendship and back and forth with one another's works which provides so much insight into the conversations black authors and creatives were having.
Writing has always been about asking questions; prodding here and there, critiquing. It has always been a conversation, a dialogue. I urge people to love what they read, and read what they love, but always ask questions, always understand different perspectives, and always keep your mind open. Please stop stifling and controlling the conversations about your favorite literature, and please understand that everyone will not come out with the same reading experience as you. It doesn't make their experience any less valid than yours.
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don't hug me i'm scared episode 6 electricity is really something when you're autistic, huh. yellow guy is made fun of all his life by his only friends and laughed at for being "stupid" when all he needed was a change of batteries but no one would listen to him and give him the accommodations he needed and deserved and when he finally did get new batteries and become more clearheaded his friends didn't like him any better. they stopped making fun of him, sure, but they didn't like that he was "smart" all of a sudden, because they'd gotten used to him being "the stupid one". and he looked in the mirror and saw his former self, and his reflection asked him, "have we gone wrong? they seem upset with us" because the truth is even if the way you are now is more comfortable for you, even if it doesn't hurt to think anymore, people will only ever like you if you're the Right Kind of autistic/adhd/traumatized/whatever. have we gone wrong? have we gone wrong? that's what you always ask yourself. "maybe they're not in charge of us anymore." "maybe they never were." and his reflection walks away, as if accepting that the others will think what they will think, and it won't matter, because yellow guy is his own person, no matter how difficult it is for him to articulate his thoughts, and he doesn't need their approval to think. "maybe they never were."
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