Derrick -- Please make me write more. Please make me write more.
"Every writer I know has trouble writing" - Joseph Heller
Summer is thankfully gone and fall is finally here, and unless you’ve been living under a massive rock these last few days distressed because your precious summer filled with happiness and sand everywhere is officially over, you’ve might’ve noticed the net was set a blaze again over the weekend with the leaking of more female celebrity nude photos, and the way these recent secret snapshots have been leaking the past month, the change of seasons won’t be stopping them from acting as if they are a punctured bottle of Smartwater mixed with nasty Blueberry-acai Emergen-C in your work bag potentially ruining everything in it. The stars of Round 2 of “The Fappening” consist of my favorite perfectly-round-shaped head Hayden Panettiere, newly-wedded Gabrielle Union, Rihanna’s redux and Kanye West’s queen Kim Kardashian. However, the true star of stars, or more like the real MVP of this round of leaks is the British-born bombshell Emily Ratajkowski. The supermodel is mostly known for prancing around topless in the controversial Blurred Lines music video last year. She’s also risen to notable fame for her jaw-dropping photo spreads where she sometimes has clothes on and sometimes she doesn’t. In a world where Kate Upton is considered the LeBron James of modeling, Emily truly is Kevin Durant, with all the potential of being better. While Emily and her impending arrival on the big screen in the coming weeks and months, beginning with Gone Girl, I feel her work on the small screen will be remembered centuries from now.
I know this is entire leaking of celebrity women and their very private photos is a disgusting act, a felonious invasion of their privacy, which they by no means deserve to experience along with the everyday battle women face for equality in the world, and the perpetrator(s) should be punished, however, let’s do the unthinkable and impossible by attempting to look on a brighter side of things for a change. Can we appreciate the female body of already-adored women, and, as Amanda Marcotte says, encourage and celebrate the fun of taking nude photos? While we’re at it, Emily’s very own (pre-leak) views on nudity shouldn’t be ignored, either. “The female body is a beautiful thing,” she told Ocean Drive Magazine last month, “… it should be embraced and celebrated, and there’s nothing wrong with being comfortable in your own skin.” 100% agree, I recall Kanye’s cover art for his critically-acclaimed My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy being pixelated for it’s mild nudity because retailers weren’t thrilled about placing its untouched original art on shelves. For some reason, and Emily agrees with me, America and our beloved culture hasn’t gotten used to nudity, whether there is some sort of nudity of human flesh or in a painting, it’s viewed in a negative manner and beckons massive amounts of outcry, especially if it’s women compared to us men. “We’re at an interesting time where women have been told to take the pill is cool, to sleep with whomever you want, or wear what you want,” she says, “but if you’re naked it can be offensive or sexiest in some way.” She continues, “that’s the last step our culture needs to deal with. We have this culture where men, especially, watching pornography, but then offended by a classic nude portrait or photograph, and I’ve never felt that way.” Much reason to believe why she advocates in nude spreads like the incredible shoot she did with Treats Art Magazine, as opposed to the aforementioned Upton who’s never posed nude. Emily is on record for stating nudity should be welcomed more than it is, however, it’s not known if her beliefs have wavered now that all of the Internet see her in an more in-depth light, yet, we should still be appreciative, finding light in this dangerously dark cave known all over the country as “The Fappening.” Let’s add some sort of positivity to an already very, very negative subject and situation. Emily’s nude photos obviously weren’t meant for my eyes, nor the guy in the corner of Starbucks who looked them up, or even the girl on the bus who was on Twitter when she first saw them and just so happens to be a lesbian. As ridiculous as it sounds, let’s attempt to appreciate and celebrate the rawness of nudity of the female body with these photos in a respectful manner, better than we’re known to be accustomed to in this country even under the awful circumstances they come with. If not, then simply stop reading and close the tab because you won’t like the rest of this. I believe Emily being one of the many victims, with her belief on nudity and greater good for its deserved appreciation, can represent a possible paradigm shift, or at least the start of it.
In an attempt to not sound like an incredibly perverted creep, Emily’s leaked photos quite frankly changed my life. Upon seeing them, I couldn’t stop thinking about them, I was amazed and a little flustered. I didn’t want to stop looking at them. Not just because she just so happens to be no. 2 (depending on the day) on my top 5 most adored women in my heart, but her general beauty is rather stunning no matter if she has layers of make-up on while at a party to celebrate a magazine cover, or in a tub with a cigarette between her perfectly plump lips (And I absolutely loath women who smoke) in the nude winding down. In 2014, nude photos are as common as TMZ cracking major sports stories, they’ve become a mainstay in the 18-45 demographic as The Simpsons have done my entire life. Nude photos are an art, like sarcasm, either you’re really good at it and it comes easy, or you’re not, and Emily is the former, while the rest of the ladies — compared to Emily’s genius — felt more of the latter. One thing I’ve learned during all this besides how strong my inner pervert can be sometimes: celebrities truly are normal people no matter what their famous for, and it shows in some photos. Us men always believed in our inner creep hearts and fantasies our favorite celebrities’ nude photos, if they were to ever get out, were like having a winning lottery ticket, but apparently, we’ve been proved wrong a bit. As normal people accustomed to seeing dolled-up sensational female celebrities looking their absolute best all the time, we tend to place them on a pedestal of ungodly-like stature in our minds like they aren’t capable replicating the common regularity with normal underrated flaws we see every day from our peers. Meagan Good, someone many of male have been lusting after for over 15 years since her role in Nickelodeon’s Cousin Skeeter, fell victim this past weekend, too, and left many disappointed when her’s were the nudes equivalent to the decade-prolonged Dr. Dre album, Detox. Apart of Emily’s earlier acting chops, she was on Nickelodeon’s iCarly for a couple of episodes, but males newly in love with her from those two episodes were lucky enough to see her skipping around music videos topless a few short years later compared to us with Good.
Emily shatterers all expectations and pseudo-competition, her’s were more like the Super Bowl or Wrestlemania of leaked nudes; I’d be lying if I didn’t say, in somehow a less hideous way as possible, I was hoping her’s would pop up eventually. She’s a phenomenal supermodel, and you can tell she takes her work home with her, it shows in those photos; can totally see why she dropped out of school at UCLA to further pursue modeling. As I was saying earlier, believe or not, there’s an art to nude photos—poses are crucial, facial expressions have to showcase confidence, rather than awkwardness, and what you’re willing to show/do, obviously, in photos are the key into a guys heart (and his iMessages and emails). As Marcotte says in her column, “A nude photo sent to a partner who is away on business can help remind them that the home fires are burning, keeping the relationship strong during absence.” I’m unfortunately not Emily’s boyfriend (still holding out hope just off the fact we’re both June babies of the 90s), but if she sent these photos to me, my house could be burning to the ground while I’m in it and I wouldn’t know it because I wouldn’t be able to unglue my eyes from my phone. Those type of photos can be the proper medicine for their designed destination. Sometimes, guys could be having a difficult day, a few properly-taken nudes at the right time can be the perfect digital digestion that could get the opposite sex through that difficult day, and Emily passes with flying colors and HDR unfiltered shots compared to her celebrity leaked photo alums, not to say this was a competition all these celebrity women secretly conjured up to see who’d prevailed, but Emily’s are lightyears ahead. She exhibits great simplicity mixed with impressive divine—whether it was an upright photo of herself in a mirror, countless upper body photos only baring her ‘Emily’ necklace or my favorite genuine not-taken-too-seriously iPad mirror photo that screams awkward but somehow isn’t; she has it all in her arsenal, and it’s exhibited in her photos, even the ones with bad focus doesn’t seem to amateur-y. It’s a zip file full of gold sitting in your finder. This entire leak is known on the Internet as “The Fappnening,” and I don’t believe any guy could bring themselves to doing so to any of them unless it’s Emily’s, mostly because of the amount of free porn on the Internet where it could resemble bodies of water on a world map if every inch of the net was mapped out like earth is. They’re that great. This all sounds immensely stupid and crazy, but I can’t help it, Emily’s nudes had me acting out as if she sent them to me, and I couldn’t get them off my mind. As ethically horrific as it sounds, I even went as far as having several of them in a couple of my unlimited Safari tabs on my phone for easy access on the go, given I’m not getting nudes sent to my Gmail these days. I find myself looking at them before bed, and randomly during the day. They’ve put quite the dimer to my gradually rising flame of depression these last few weeks.
I know this is all very wrong in some vain, I can’t help but think of that Kanye line, “how can something so wrong make me feel so right?” I honestly feel better knowing I’ve seen Emily in all her perfection even though I shouldn’t have, but can you really blame me, or anyone else, especially how she feels about the female body and nudity, and how stunning she is in them? I am waiting to see if she has a statement or comment regarding these photos and videos leaking, did she truly mean all that stuff she said about our culture and nudity, or will she hide behind a predictable robotic response of embarrassment and frustration. I hope she doesn’t, I hope she brushed it off as carelessly as humanly possible and went along about her day upon learning of the news, though you can’t really blame her for being upset, like others, for having her privacy ripped from her as if a shifty character at a party walked off with her purse when she accidentally leaves it at the bar while she’s in the restroom when Blurred Lines comes on. I hope she isn’t too upset and she looks at this, and the others as well, as a celebration for such a beautiful thing in a country where women’s body isn’t appreciated enough. Emily’s nude photos are a work of goddesses, she’s a modern day Aphrodite, the greek goddess of love, beauty and sexuality. Maybe she is and we don’t know it right now; can’t help but see Emily as the gorgeous face of love, beauty and sexuality, that’s what she’s conveyed in all her photo spreads and interviews and most likely in her upcoming movie roles too. Her nudes may have been leaked for all of us who don’t deserve them to see at our leisure in an awful manner, but I feel she’d keep her chin raised high in the air as she walks down the street feeling prouder than when someone glances at her as she walks by realizing he’s seen her fully nude, because the female body is a beautiful thing and she’s comfortable in her skin. Her leaked photos won’t be considered regular nudes, but classic nude portraits — as it should be.
Posted on 22 September, 2014
Why must sharks get so much attention (Ridiculous sharknado and annoying shark week)? Sharks are rather lame when you really think about it, plus they’re really, really, really fucking dangerous? Don’t believe me, huh? Welp. But you knew this could happen already.
So why must we continue to celebrate this goddamn fish? We all know turtles and monkeys are two of the most amazing non-Kanye things on this planet, why don’t they get their own week for a network I Don’t Watch But I’m Paying For Every Month or a made-for-TV stupid disaster movie? I mean, no coincidence monkeys and turtles are hitting big screens in a massive way this summer (even though the turtle film is prompting a large volume of us TMNT fans to vomit for its 30th anniversary — FUCK YOU, MICHAEL BAY! FUCK. YOU. ) And no coincidence this is the only way for shark-related things in pop culture to be pushed. Those Jaws movies were from the 70s and 80s, and let’s not bring up the San Jose Sharks.
But, yeah.. sharks are stupid and I need more monkey and turtle things to create stupid tweets about during the deadest part of the year.
Posted on 30 July, 2014
Really sad how, while I’ve been here in Las Vegas, I’ve been silently counting down the seconds to getting back to LA and getting my hands on The Last of Us Remastered. I’m at the conclusion, even almost two full months into my twenty-fourth year, Vegas is surprisingly overrated, or at least to someone as introverted as I am. Not into consuming mass amounts of drugs, I ignore heavy abundance of alcohol (I’ve literally seen more Disney channel then drunk the last seven days) and general socializing with actual people wrapped around this desert filled with deceit and sin. I was literally upset Friday night being dragged downtown with a huge group if people wishing I was back in the room watching original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle episodes on Aja Mac. Introverted is my disease, a disease I’m too proud to have, especially here in here Vegas.
Posted on 29 July, 2014
Always thought my Tumblr turning five would’ve meant more to me, like a pseudo-accomplishment (in my heavily-strange mind, at least) instead of an ‘aww, lulz’ in my emails like it was this morning, but here we are. On a scale to 1 to 10 to represent my five years, it’d end up at a 4, maybe 5. That’s it. I always had this vision of how I’d properly used this space to properly illustrate by latter teens and early-to-mid twenties, but it never materialized like I thought, but that’s on me, I guess.
Ironically, I remember setting this up in a Coffee Bean on Wilshire; you’d think I’d end up spending most of my time towards my scant 6,440 posts in some sort of some coffee place developing carpal tunnel. This isn’t to say my five years with this has been a total waste compared to my original ‘blog gang 4 life’ aspirations—but truly believe I’ve grown since then. Not as much as I’d like, obviously, but grown nonetheless.
Ah, well. Maybe the next five years will be better.
Tagged #V Posted on 18 July, 2014
Not very appreciative of Tumblr being a little
bitch brat by not letting me post this new Terius song, saying it’s “not an mp3” even though it is and isn’t a file exceeding 10mb, which is the limit. I don’t deserve to have my current favorite song not be posted on my stupid tumblr in this felonious manner without being given a proper explanation. Just let me be a general lazy person from this generation where in this tumblr post space I’d prefer to simply post a song rather than use 200-500 words to describe how the song affects my entire being at the moment.
Also, while we’re added, love how Abel Tesfaye can release a new song and the good people over at Rap Genius will have it completely annotated within 10 minutes, however, Terius can release an entire extended play and it’ll probably take months just to get the lyrics up. Real nice, people of tumblr and rap genius, real nice.
Posted on 8 July, 2014
Posted on 8 June, 2014
Posted on 2 June, 2014
This’ll make three consecutive years, three straight years of wanting something particular for my birthday and not getting it. No third time’s the charm here, no matter how much I push for it in my head and reverse-jinx it. It’s my day, I should be able to ask for whatever the hell I want and get it like spoiled brat and not be ridiculed. I’m not even asking for much—I just want to see you on my day. I mean, after all, you’re the only thing that matters anymore. Compared to you, don’t care about anything else, not this final I basically have to ace Thursday; don’t care about great the iMessage Drought of 2014 I’m going through right now; not even the money I owe my dental provider for all that dental work I had done in March, just you.
I just want to see you Monday, even if it’s for five minutes, because those five minutes would make me very much believe twenty-four is going to be worth any thing. In a perfect world, we’d spend a significant amount of my first day of twenty-four with you not caring about anything else. Basically, the two-and-a-half years knowing each other waisting our valuable and precious twenties would culminate Monday.
But I know not to get my hopes up, a mechanism I’ve gotten use to the last several years. None of that will be happening tomorrow. What’s going to end up happening is I’ll watch the WWDC stream, wash clothes, make a rare movie theatre appearance to see The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and marvel (pun intended) at blonde Emma Stone, go home and study for this final. Eh.
Posted on 1 June, 2014
Posted on 25 April, 2014
I truly wish I could somehow explain the amount of hate and spite in my heart these days. I doubt it’s healthy, no matter how much water I drink, no matter how much I exercise. Not quite sure how it’s gotten to this level, but it’s here. I’m upset, I’m hurt. I’ve fallen again and not sure if getting up is even an option right now. I’m in this deep, narrow hole, sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees as my chin is tucked away simmering at life and it’s curve balls.
At the same time, I can see the light at the top. I can see a hand by someone — the only person right now — who can help me out this deep, dark and damp pit of despair, hate and spitefulness to a beautiful pasture of pure bliss. I see it, however, I don’t believe it. I feel it’s an elusion as if I’m in the desert hours away from collapsing — it’s not real, it can’t be; it’s too good to be true. I just wan…
And to think, I only came on here to change my password.
Posted on 11 April, 2014