Dude, what is the fucking deal with people who call themselves Diablo? One of my friends who has an office job, and hence spends hours a day turning the internet purple, asked me yesterday what I thought of Diablo Cody, to which I said, “No idea, but I think his name is stupid.” I didn’t know who Diablo Cody was, and I wish I still didn’t, because doing a cursory ten seconds of Google research on this Diablo Cody person has convinced me that the world is going to end soon.
Apparently he’s a she, and she’s written a book about the experiences she had during her experimental year-long stint as a stripper, experiences she had already put down in a blog called “Pussy Ranch” (so, so clever). She’s also written some movie called Juno that I plan to never see, mainly because it’s one of these stupid blockbuster award-winning pseudo-indie films that’s supposed to make me have some kind of emotion that only comes naturally to half-wits and teenagers. A friend has summed Juno up for me by saying, “The most compelling character in the movie was a telephone shaped like a hamburger.” I wasn’t going to see it in the first place, but now that I know something about the person who wrote it, I might have to put it on my list of movies that I will never, ever lay eyes on (which includes the Matrix and Lord of the Rings trilogies).
Diablo Cody is some woman who grew up with a place to live, enough to eat, a bunch of toys, a good education, and a stable home environment, which makes her an “unlikely stripper,” according to herself. She fancied herself a feminist while in college “mainly because she didn’t strip,” as one interviewer put it. But those feminist ideals she had in college, those ones that revolved around not stripping, transformed once she graduated and moved to Minneapolis, where she decided that, “If there was ever a time to strip, it was just the right time. I was almost too old but still young enough, and I didn’t have to worry about running into friends and family.”
She apparently had decided to strip as a sort of sociological experiment in order to gain insight into strippers’ socioeconomic backgrounds and the psychology of the men who pay them to prostitute themselves. Either that or she had finally seen the light: “I wish I had the foresight to strip in college. I would have made mad money. But I fancied myself above stripping.” Maaaad money, son. Whatever her motivation for giving up on her anti-stripping feminist ideals, she really learned something from her stint as a sex worker. She learned that “feminism is about choices and refusing to accept stereotypes”. How insightful of her. In fact, Cody figured out that sex work was actually more of a feminist career path than office work: “I actually found the white collar jobs a lot more anti-feminist. I found myself shoehorned into the adorable secretary who fetched older men’s coffee. I would much rather give lap dances.”
Jesus CHRIST! I don’t even know where to start, except by saying that I hope Diablo Cody dies soon. She’s basically a spokesmodel for the Suicide Girl takeover of American culture and the simplistic and obviously logically flawed ideas behind “sex-positive” “feminism,” which is why America loves her so much. She’s basically telling everyone what they want to hear: when women get naked for money, it’s because they choose to, not because they are born and bred in an exploitative patriarchal system that objectifies and commodifies their bodies and sexuality. When women get naked for money, they’re having a good time, not succumbing to the reality that they’ve been presented with a set of options that are vastly more limited than the set of options that their male counterparts enjoy. When women get naked for money, it’s a fucking party, not a symptom of the fact that they’ve absorbed the cultural message that their only power and worth lies in their ability to induce boners.
I can’t even believe that a person who calls herself an “unlikely stripper” because she comes from a “normal” background can actually claim that sex work is about choices, but she does. If sex work is a choice, it’s a choice made from a set of unappealing options, options that are limited by being female, are further limited by being born poor and/or being born into an abusive environment, and are even further limited by a lack of education. The fact that this fucking arrogant, unthoughtful, privileged asshole can keep a straight face while calling sex work a choice makes me want to choke someone.
Diablo Cody really is an insidious motherfucker. She’s a sell-out extraordinaire, an agent of patriarchal exploitation disguised as an advocate for women’s freedom and equality. And not only that, she’s a sign that the English language is in serious danger. Her writing is unfuckingbelievably bad, is rife with stupid puns and rhymes about rappers and blogging, and somehow manages to fail utterly at even its lowly attempt at titillation, tending instead toward ludicrously trite salaciousness.
I hate Diablo Cody. You should too.