The New York Times is calling me a slut who smells like fish, which it has done with prurient self-righteousness since 2010.
When I was at the crisis stabilization unit at South Shore Mental Health, one of the groups at the building that had the unit was a meeting of the drama club. I went to the meeting. They were doing monologues. There were several monologues for men and women, and everyone else had chosen one the week before. A few people read their monologues to the group or had memorized them. I was asked to look at the monologues and choose one.
The one that I chose was attributed to the character of Karen, from the movie "Goodfellas." It struck me that the monologue was similar to the mentality that a lot of people probably develop in the entertainment industry; after a while, even the worst things seem normal, because everyone that you know does them and you all live in isolation from the rest of the world.
That's a picture of the monologue.
I hadn't seen the movie and didn't know what the character was like, to whom she was talking, or what had happened in the movie by the time she said the things in the monologue.
That night, I did searches of "Karen Goodfellas" at YouTube and watched the resulting videos with my phone.
That was a few days ago, and the New York Times, after invading my privacy and making the interpretations of the information that it got from invading my privacy that best served to fuel its hateful, misogynist, elitist propaganda, is continuing to get mileage from it. That's how the conglomerate likes to treat me all of the time.
Copyright, with noted exceptions, L. Kochman, October 1, 2014 @ 6:19 a.m.
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