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mothmantha 's review for:
I like Amanda Palmer's music. I really, really do. I've been a fan since little fourteen year old me first heard Girl Anachronism. I burned copies of the The Dresden Dolls first album for everyone I knew. I sang along to Yes, Virginia while I learned to drive. I blasted Theatre is Evil in my ears on repeat as I sat in endless waiting rooms while my Dad bounced between hospitals. I am a fan of the music.
I am far less sure of Amanda Palmer herself. She claims to love her fans, but still refuses to admit not paying musicians after fans handed her a million dollars is a shitty thing to do. She slaps a "feminist icon" label on herself and never once mentions how she railed against critics who felt she was using disability as a costume and a joke during the Evelyn, Evelyn days. There's no mention of how she defended Jian Ghomeshi after he was accused of sexual assault. "I love and support all women", she says while pretending to rape a Katy Perry cutout on stage.
I hate this disconnect because how can someone so iffy write songs that express what I'm feeling so well? I thought maybe this book would address some of her fuck ups and let me see things from her perspective. It absolutely did and this perspective is NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE ME BECAUSE I'M ALWAYS RIGHT..
I don't even have a gif for how disappointed I am.
This book is the worst goddamn roller coaster I've ever been on. You'll have pages of gorgeous writing that invokes beautiful imagery and humanity and then you turn a corner and get punched right in the fucking face. This book gave me trust issues. I cried as she described the aftermath of her abortion, only to turn around and consider if anyone has even eaten a library book about of rage as she claims internet feminists just don't have a sense of humor.
If the only way you can address criticism is by plugging your ears and throwing on insults, congrats! You're an asshole.
I am far less sure of Amanda Palmer herself. She claims to love her fans, but still refuses to admit not paying musicians after fans handed her a million dollars is a shitty thing to do. She slaps a "feminist icon" label on herself and never once mentions how she railed against critics who felt she was using disability as a costume and a joke during the Evelyn, Evelyn days. There's no mention of how she defended Jian Ghomeshi after he was accused of sexual assault. "I love and support all women", she says while pretending to rape a Katy Perry cutout on stage.
I hate this disconnect because how can someone so iffy write songs that express what I'm feeling so well? I thought maybe this book would address some of her fuck ups and let me see things from her perspective. It absolutely did and this perspective is NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE ME BECAUSE I'M ALWAYS RIGHT..
I don't even have a gif for how disappointed I am.
This book is the worst goddamn roller coaster I've ever been on. You'll have pages of gorgeous writing that invokes beautiful imagery and humanity and then you turn a corner and get punched right in the fucking face. This book gave me trust issues. I cried as she described the aftermath of her abortion, only to turn around and consider if anyone has even eaten a library book about of rage as she claims internet feminists just don't have a sense of humor.
If the only way you can address criticism is by plugging your ears and throwing on insults, congrats! You're an asshole.