Five Lessons the Media Can Learn from Welcome to Night Vale

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Warning: there be spoilers ahead. If you haven’t listened to the podcast yet, you have been warned.

A friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome… to Night Vale.

If an ambient snare / hi-hat / piano melody is playing in your head right now, then you’re already familiar with the podcast Welcome to Night Vale. If you’ve ever opened up a Tumblr dashboard, chances are good you’ve at least heard of the bi-monthly storytelling extravaganza by Jeffrey Cranor and Joseph Fink that, over the past two-odd years, has taken over the iTunes podcast charts, Comic-Cons, and my life. And if none of these things are true, what are you even doing with your time. Go listen to this podcast.

As a feminist writer and fiction junkie, I look for two things in my media: quality storytelling, and a basic adherence to the principles of equality, social justice, and representation. Now, it’s not necessary that something holds these principles up 100% of the time for me to fall in love with it. You can love media and still criticize it at the same time. Guys. I watched every episode of four seasons of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I know.

(Team Jacqueline. Anyway.)

But the beautiful thing about Night Vale is that it doesn’t ask me to compromise. Amid its gloriously self-referential, convoluted storylines that somehow intersect with the fulfilling eclectic fatality of a tweaked-out spider’s web (listeners: I’m torn between Nazar al-Mujaheed and Marcus Vanston’s coffee table as my favorite bits), Night Vale’s creators make efforts toward dismantling the kyriarchy on a bi-weekly basis. And guys, it is awesome.

I could make a list of hundreds of tips mainstream media could take from Night Vale Community Radio, but this is a blog post, not a manifesto. So, here are five awesome elements of the podcast that make my feminist heart sing.

1. LGBTQ Representation, Without the Drama

Night Vale’s central romance takes place between Cecil, the velvet-voiced radio host, and the perfectly imperfect Carlos, seemingly surnamed The Scientist. Now, that’s a step in and of itself, since gay relationships are often mined as campy comic relief (Will and Grace, though long off the air, comes immediately to mind) or angst-ridden existential crises and ultimate tragedy.

This isn’t to deny the weight and gravity LGBTQ folks face when coming out in our homophobic society. I’m not suggesting that discounting the serious struggles homophobia creates is the way to go.

But as a counterpoint: science fiction and storytelling are just that: fictionAnd Night Vale invents a world in which being gay is exactly as interesting as being straight, or being a five-headed dragon. (Okay, it’s a little less interesting than being a dragon.) Cecil and Carlos’ romance develops as a caring, nuanced, consensual, unbelievably adorable relationship between two adults for whom sexuality is just another aspect of their identity, not something that needs to be questioned or torn apart or defended to anyone.

My favorite example is what can, if you squint, be called Cecil’s coming-out. The character Old Woman Josie asks him why they don’t go bowling like they used to. Cecil replies,

“I don’t know. There has been a tiny underground army living under the bowling alley, and they’ve declared war on all of us. They injured my new boyfriend. Also, I have a new boyfriend. Listen, we should totally get the team back together and go to League Night again.”

That’s what I mean. There’s so much craziness going on in Night Vale that a radio host’s sexuality could seriously not be less of an issue. Looking at our own current events, there’s a lesson there for us to think about.

2. Saying No to Whitewashed Casting

I don’t know a single listener that doesn’t have a small crush on Carlos the Scientist, possibly because Cecil, our narrator, “fell in love instantly” the moment Carlos entered town. He fell in love with Carlos’ perfect eyes, his perfect teeth like a military cemetery, his perfect hair (especially his perfect hair). And Carlos, quite unequivocally, is hispanic. Take that, mainstream media’s tendency to whitewash sympathetic characters (cough cough Exodus: Gods and Kings).

As if this wasn’t already pretty awesome, there’s the casting of Carlos’ voice actor to take into account. To begin with, Carlos was voiced by co-creator Jeffrey Cranor. But following that, latino actor Dylan Marron was recast into the role. Why? In Cranor’s words,

“It sucks that there’s a white straight male (me), playing a gay man of color (Carlos).”

And Dylan Marron is fabulous. Let’s not forget that. And his hair, folks, actually is perfect.

3. WOC in Central, Awesome Roles

I talked about this recently: guys, fantasy and sci-fi requires you to invent a world from the ground up. If you’re putting dragons into it, what the hell is stopping you from making important, central, well-developed characters of color?

Oh. White privilege and social racism. That might be it.

Remember the controversy when Rue from The Hunger Games, despite being described as having “dark brown skin,” was cast as black? Proof that society has conditioned us to expect sympathetic characters to be white, regardless of what their physical descriptions read as.

Night Vale is a radio show, after all, so we rely on narration and our own imaginations, but Fink and Cranor make a deliberate point of specifying that certain characters cannot default to white. One of these, and by far a fan favorite, is the unbearably kick-ass Tamika Flynn.

Tamika Flynn is every English major’s spirit animal. Her weapons of choice are a slingshot and heavily notated copies of classic lit. She leads children from the summer reading program in a battle against an evil corporate bureaucracy. She’s a revolutionary mastermind who hides throwing stars in copies of Willa Cather. And have I mentioned she’s thirteen?

Have I also mentioned that she’s a woman of color, voiced by two voice actresses, Flor De Liz Perez and Symphony Sanders, who are also women of color?

Have I also mentioned that she’s amazing?

4. Women In Political Office and Positions of Power

All right, “positions of power” is a little vague, because Night Vale is run by a mysterious otherworldly force probably lurking in a canyon. But the fact remains that both mayors in the series, as well as one of the candidates during election season, are female. Just as with Cecil and Carlos’ relationship, no one in the series has any problem with this.

There’s no endless dwelling on Mayor Pamela Winchell’s choice of skirt or pantsuit. There’s no concern that she won’t be able to carry out her duties because her daughter had a baby and who wants a grandma for a mayor? Being female, as being of color or being gay or bi or gender-nonconforming or without a face, is simply a non-issue.

Another tip that our media could take from Pamela Winchell’s emergency press conferences. Report the issues, not the mayor’s cleavage.

5. Speaking Out Against Cultural Appropriation

If you’ve looked at an Urban Outfitters catalogue, been to or read about Coachella, or watched a Katy Perry music video recently, you’re pretty well aware with the concept of cultural appropriation: taking a phenomenon, belief, or cultural practice from a group of people to which you do not belong and taking it in a one-sided and non-mutual colonial-style transaction. For a really clear and valuable explanation of the difference between liking sushi and exploiting someone’s culture, I recommend this article from Everyday Feminism.

Night Vale is having none of this. We are introduced to the Apache Tracker, who is universally regarded as a “huge jerk” for walking around in a cartoonishly inaccurate Native American headdress and claiming to possess “Indian magicks.” It’s recognized by the whole town that he’s taken a symbol with great cultural importance and just tossed it on his head for the sake of insensitive, tone-deaf, and racist ass-hattery.

Another glorious allusion to this very issue came in an episode from just a few days ago (I was listening to it while going for a jog and fist-pumped a little bit on the sidewalk):

“[Pamela Winchell cracked her whip] like in that popular and heartwarming series of adventure movies about a wisecracking archaeologist who comically destroys countless important artifacts under the hilarious misapprehension that they belong in his museum rather than in the religious sites of the cultures that made them.”

And then on to a discussion of the dubious existence of angels. It takes artistry and writing skills to work political and social commentary into a show while still making it entertaining and making me laugh.

You know what it doesn’t take? “Indian Magicks.”

——

Night Vale listeners: what would you add to this list? Do you have any critiques or suggestions for areas of improvement in the podcast? I’d love to hear them if you do.

Stay tuned next for the sound of your own breathing, filtered through a lifetime of regret, indecision, and missed opportunities.

Good night, readers. Good night.

#StopTheBeautyMadness – A Body Positive Interview

imagesHey folks,

So I’ve been talking about it quite a bit lately, but I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m one of the FrontLine Voices of the Stop The Beauty Madness campaign, an online activism movement dedicated to dismantling the destructive beauty ideals that surround us each and every day. And as the words “FrontLine Voices” imply, I’ve lent the voice to their audio series. This fantastic series features body image activists, bloggers, writers, slam poets, and generally a pretty awesome constellation of folks.

Don’t believe me? Check out the lineup and judge for yourself.

The audio series went live last week, so if you’re so inclined – and you should be! – you can subscribe to the whole thing just by providing a name and email address to the Stop The Beauty Madness website. 30-minute interviews with folks working to end body negativity and oppression in our world, delivered straight to your inbox. What’s not to love?

If you’re looking for a taste, you’re in luck. My interview with Robin Rice went live on Sunday, and I’ve linked the audio file right here in this lovely post. The transcript can be found embedded right below, for those looking for it. Be gentle – it’s my first time being interviewed for a podcast!

https://soundcloud.com/stopthebeautymadness/394allison-epstein-stop-the-beauty-madness/s-vuD2Y

(Also, forgive any errors in the transcript. I’m as accurate as I can be while also drinking coffee at the same time.)


Recovering Like a Vulcan – Fighting Feeling with Logic

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Last week(end), for those interested, marked the 2014 iteration of the San Diego International Comic-Con. Given, this has a very minimal impact on my day-to-day life as a blogger living in Michigan who personally would welcome a decrease in superhero movies playing at the local multiplex. (Except for those with Loki in them. Because I don’t know if I’ve talked about my Loki feelings lately, but they are powerful, visceral, and 120% positive.) Anyway, what I’m getting at is that Comic-Con is an unapologetically cheap and easy segue into what I want to talk about today: rationalism and emotions.

Weight gain and recovery, in some manifestations of eating disorders, go troublingly hand-in-hand. It’s important to note that this isn’t always the case: EDs don’t always result in being dangerously underweight. There are many kinds of eating disorders, and you can’t tell who has one or who doesn’t just by looking at them. (Super-intentional link barrage is super-intentional.)

But for me, and for many readers I’ve chatted with, fear of weight gain is one of the reasons that resistance to recovery is so strong. Recovery is something like full-frontal exposure therapy in these cases. Throwing yourself straight into your worst fear on the word of friends, family, and support either IRL or online that everything will turn out for the best. Imagine a man terrified of sharks being told to watch Jaws in an underwater cage in the Pacific in the middle of Shark Week. It’s something like that. Only without the smell of chum.

Now, you ask, why the deuce did you bring up Comic-Con in that first paragraph, then segue into Jaws, and then somehow end up at recovery? Well, two reasons. One, because I mix metaphors like bartenders mix the ingredients for a Manhattan: into a delicious concoction that goes down smooth every time. And two, because my best strategy of coping with the difficulties of facing recovery’s weight-related fears is to think like a Vulcan.

I’m a little young for the Shatner series, but I’ve seen the more recent Star Trek films (because of Benedict Cumberbatch, and because my former roommate took to yelling “KHAAAAAAAAAN” every time our toilet failed to flush or our stove caught on fire again), so I think that basically makes me an expert in the Vulcan’s inability to process or express emotions. Life to the inestimable Mr. Spock is a math problem, a physics equation, a series of numbers and probabilities that can be followed to its natural and logical end. “Feeling fat” or “fearing weight gain” has no place in the Vulcan universe. You are what you are, logically, rationally, ipso facto. That’s it.

I’m the kind of person who bursts into tears at the smallest provocation, so clearly this isn’t a kind of lifestyle I’m apt to fall into particularly easily. But thinking about issues surrounding weight gain, I find it helpful during tough times – like now. A year and a half after I started blogging about the recovery process, I’m now at my highest weight to date. If you’d told me at the time I would be where I am, I imagine my swirling maelstrom of emotions would have had a thing or two to say about it.

But now, looking at it objectively from a much healthier, much more stable place, I can start to take it apart. The last few days have been a little rough, and I’m still not exactly comfortable moving around in my body the way it feels right now. If we’re being honest (a practice I favor, generally),  I wouldn’t mind losing xx pounds in a healthy, slow, and reasonable way. But when the going gets particularly bad, I’ve started to pull back and ask myself the important questions.

  • “What’s the absolute worst thing that could happen if I wasn’t able to lose weight from here?”
  • “What, really, is bad about the way I am right at this very moment?”
  • “If something happened and I was stuck at this weight forever, what would I lose that I could have had otherwise?”

Answer key, for those playing along at hime:

  • Well, I wouldn’t be able to wear those super-comfortable jeans from two years ago I bought on sale for $20. Which would be sad, but reasonably, I could always buy more jeans. Even if I do hate shopping, it would be about thirty unpleasant minutes. I sat through PompeiiI can handle more than thirty unpleasant minutes.
  • What’s bad about the way I am? Well, I’m not happy. It’s easier to work on being happy with the present than changing it into something it’s not meant to be.
  • What would I lose? Well, those pants. And the privilege of saying that I “got back to my high school weight,” which is apparently an important thing for some reason. Other than that? I’m having a tough time.

I’m not claiming that this exercise is always easy, or that it works every time. But it’s helped me through many a tough morning. For example, a few days ago was my monthly allotted trip to The Scale, when I learned that my newly instated exercise habit had failed to make an ounce (#RecoveryPuns) of difference. The emotional part of my brain was wildly disappointed with this, but after a few minutes, I tried to put my response into the same logical question format.

What exactly were you hoping to accomplish here? Have you accomplished it?

I exercise to feel powerful in my body. I exercise to take care of my heart and my legs and my muscles and my various other et caeteras. I exercise because it’s nice to start a morning with a jog and the chance to listen to the ever kick-ass John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman on The Bugle.

Why does weight logically need to come into that? I can be healthy and happy at any weight. Sure, there’s still that initial moment of “crap, I worked so hard and what do I have to show for it?” I don’t know if there’ll always be that moment, but for right now it’s pretty tough to deny it completely. But what’s important is to cut the thought process off as soon as is logistically possible and really, critically, think about it.

If you’re having a tough recovery day (and we all do), try sitting down for a few minutes, alone and away from distractions, and really asking yourself the question.

What’s the worst thing that could happen if I gain XX pounds? What’s the worst thing that could happen if I embrace recovery and the physical changes that come with it and after it?

Try as hard as you can not to let anything subjective or exaggerated enter this mental discussion. Be honest with yourself. Accept that “physical perfection” is a social construct that means objectively nothing. Be gentle on hard days and do something that makes you happy, because in recovery self-care is a radical and revolutionary choice.

And if you can figure out a way to beam me up somewhere, please drop me a line and let me know. I’m still operating without a car and it would be really lovely not to have to bum rides all the time. Thanks.

A Feminist Blogger Always Pays Her Debts – Victories and Failures of Game of Thrones

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Confession: I just started watching Game of Thrones at the end of June.

Yes, yes, I know. I’m letting down the whole generation of Millennials who have been trying to make Lannister references at me for years. (And I do mean at me, since even after I announced that I’d been streaming other shows instead, the Lannister references continued to flow in. Maybe they thought they owed it to me – I’m told they always pay their debts.) Nonetheless, I caved this summer, largely because searching for full-time employment leaves a whole lot of free time on either end of perfecting cover letters and resumes.

I’m only on season 3, episode 2, so there will be no spoilers here. Okay, just one: Dumbledore dies. But having spent so much time recently listening to the epic intro music (possibly more epic when played by a New Orleans jazz trio) has given me some time to think. I was told I would love Thrones for its “strong, well-written, complex female characters.”

Now, I’ll admit, the prospect was attractive. Growing, up, I was that kid.  I devoured the Lord of the Rings trilogy and for a period could rattle off extended dialogue sequences from the films. I plunged headfirst into series like Terry Brooks’ Shannara series and Christopher Paolini’s Inheritence cycle. In my “younger reader” days I was into Percy Jackson and the Olympiansthe His Dark Materials trilogy, and the full sequence of The Dark is Rising. Hey, I never said I wasn’t a dork. But I’m aware of how fantasy novels can (and frequently do) dismiss women into minor roles, plot devices, or non-speaking parts. You’ll never catch me throwing Tolkien under the bus – the man defined my childhood – but let’s take a moment to count up the number of female characters with important speaking roles. I’m at three. And I’m done.

Thrones, on the other hand, smashes through the Bechdel Test on the regular. Catelyn Stark, at least as far in as I am, is running around kicking ass and taking names. Arya is adorable and spunky (in a way that, to any fantasy-reading child of the 1990s who was into Tamora Pierce at the right age, will sound bells of familiarity at every turn)Daenerys has killed a lot of people, albeit with her breasts quite frequently seeming to do a whole lot of the work. These are characters with internal lives, motivations, and specific traits all their own. You could not sub Arya in for Sansa and expect the story to unfold in the same way. Cirsei and Shae’s dialogue can’t be switched.

Would I call Game of Thrones a feminist show? Maybe? Meh?

Would I call Game of Thrones a show directed entirely by men, based on a book series written by a man, with a female-to-male nudity ratio of about one metric fuckton to a naked butt here and there? Absolutely.

(Note: “metric fuckton” not to be used in situations requiring accurate units of measurement.)

While I absolutely appreciate George R.R. Martin’s ability to write women in speaking roles and major parts – which is awesome and let’s never lose sight of the fact that this is also an anomaly – there are also many, many things we should keep in mind before touting Thrones as the pinnacle of feminist television. Among these:

The excessive use of brothels as a plot device.

Let’s think about how so many of the most sympathetic characters use “whoring around” as the most manly and dashing of pastimes. Let’s think about why Tyrian’s entrance to the show waking up in a whorehouse is supposed to be endearing and entertaining, not troubling.

The frequency of rape scenes or almost-rape scenes

Let’s think about how these are tossed in and tossed aside again without really even being discussed. And let’s remember the feelings I’ve already expressed about rape as a plot device – for the link-averse, they’re wildly negative.

The representation of people of color

This is actually the first thing that skeeved me out watching the show. Keep in mind the way the Dothraki are represented, as an interpretation of the “shamanistic, earth-goddess, noble savage” trope linked troublingly to Native Americans. Let’s look at Daxos, the sole black man (at least up to the end of season 2), and the way he’s presented as a liar, a cheat, a womanizer, and manipulative master of fraud. Then let’s look at the way every single major character is white.

Guys, this is the great thing about fantasy. It’s fantasy. You can make your world look like whatever you want it to. You’ve got warlocks reproducing themselves in a magical tower with no doors. You’ve got zombies rising out of the snow and ravens with three eyes carrying messages on scrolls. Surely your imagination can stretch far enough to POC in leading roles.

Strategic presentation of prestige dialects

I’m not claiming to be an expert on this – I’m an English major with an amateur’s interest in sociocultural linguistics. Take my assertions with that very specific grain of salt, but still, let’s talk about linguistic discrimination. The Lannisters are from the southwest. The Starks are from the north. The Baratheons are presumably from King’s Landing in the south. The Targaryens are from Valyria, wherever the deuce that is, but is presumably nowhere close to anything. Despite this geographic disparity, Tyrian, Ned Stark, Joffrey, and Daenerys all speak in the same “standard English” dialect using the same prestige RP accent used so often in high drama even when it doesn’t make sense.

(Side note – I’m not necessarily proud of it, but I watched all three seasons of Showtime’s The Borgias in a month. It’s a historical drama about murder and intrigue in renaissance Italy, and everyone speaks in standard British RP. Why is this a thing?)

On the other hand, anyone not a prominent member of these families almost universally speaks in dialect. Prestige accent gains its prestige from socioeconomic and sociocultural factors – this is why RP is considered “posher” than, say, a northern accent, since political and economic power centers in London. What is this saying about people who don’t speak “proper” or “standard” English? It sounds like reading too much into it, until you remember the history of dialect discrimination that is unfortunately not really history.

Oh yeah, that nudity thing

There’s a reason no one watches Game of Thrones with their parents or relatives without squirming. It’s not the violence or the language. It’s those completely gratuitous scenes of female nudity in order to appeal to HBO’s target demographic. It keeps nicely in step with fantasy, sci-fi, and nerd culture generally’s long-standing tradition of presenting fully-clothed armed men wielding swords alongside women in push-up bras and underwear. I mean, I’m not here to bash Wonder Woman’s status as feminist icon, but let’s look at a side-by-side of her with Batman and Superman. That’s all.

It’s true: the male gaze is a thing. And, to clarify a point and to stop the thundering onrush of #notallmen I sense cresting the horizon, let’s talk about that for a second. A large percentage of people in the world are sexually attracted to one or more genders. (Naturally, not all, as asexuality is a thing that exists.) Which is fantastic. And some people are very pretty to look at, which can be enjoyable. Guys, I have watched nearly the entire filmography of Tom Hiddleston partly because he’s a splendid actor, partly because I have eyes and am a straight woman who finds him beautiful. I’m not saying that we should all close our eyes and lock ourselves in chastity closets. (What is a chastity closet? Don’t ask me.) What I am saying is that when a show chooses to represent its characters in a way meant to appeal to its viewers’ sexuality, and it does so in a way that disregards the sexuality of approximately 50% of the population by only representing women in sexually charged and vulnerable positions, something is off.

Am I saying that Game of Thrones would be a more feminist endeavor if there were more dick shots? I might be. I won’t deny it might help.

——

As with most media analysis, the important thing here isn’t to decide once and for all whether Game of Thrones should be used in Women’s Studies 101 classes as a classic example of feminist media. We need to appreciate the time spent developing the personalities of female characters – and, for the sake of the old gods and the new, giving them speaking roles for a charming change – while at the same time looking critically at our favorite media outlets and insisting that they do better. Without media analysis and critical lenses, we’ll be relying on blind trust that people will do the right thing. Which as Ned Stark used to be able to attest to, never works well.

Sorry. I said no spoilers. Well, that’s the internet for you, then.

The Body Pacifist Under Minor Renovations

Hey all,

So, as you’ve probably noticed, there are gonna be some changes around The Body Pacifist. No worries, the content’s not going under any serious overhauls. I’m not going to use the same domain name but suddenly start writing in-depth articles about deep sea fishing or the difference between a bear and a bull market. (Unless you want me to. In which case I’ll keep the suggestion under consideration.)

No, I’ve just decided it’s time to do a bit of aesthetic tweaking around here. This is largely because I’m tired of the font on this site coming up so small that I’m squinting at it trying to figure out if I said what I meant to say. So don’t worry if everything looks different from one minute to the next. Don’t worry if the layout of the site has changed three times while you’re reading this post. It will all work itself out soon. Hopefully in a legible font!

Thanks for your patience – I’m by no means a web developer. I know my way around a WordPress interface, but I’m not about to hack NASA. We’ll see how it goes.

Love and gratitude,

-Allison

Stop The Beauty Madness and Take Back Ourselves

Image courtesy of Stop The Beauty Madness

Image courtesy of Stop The Beauty Madness

Think back to the last time you consumed some kind of media. Any kind, really: from binge-watching back episodes of Game of Thrones (cough cough this isn’t what I did today), flipping through the latest issue of Vogue, or shelling out the seven-to-fifteen dollars now somehow needed to get a seat at the movie theater. Chances are, in some form or another, beauty was front and center stage. But what do I mean when I say “beauty?”

That would be a good question. It should be a good question. But you already know the answer. Beauty has collapsed from a potentially infinite number of dimensions to just the one we all know. The one that dominates red carpets and awards shows, runways and magazines, reality shows but rarely, if ever, reality.  Why is beauty something that can only be expressed in the typical Hollywood fashion? Why must beauty be visual at all? Why is beauty dependent on physical appearance and sexual attraction?

You want to know a little secret? I do not get up in the morning with the express purpose of making myself sexually palatable to the proverbial stranger. This is not my goal in life. I’m never going to be blonde. I’m never going to be tall. My body does not look like a willowy, gazelle-like supermodel, and based on my lived experience it’s not going to do that. My legs don’t do “gazelle.” And why is this a problem?

Beauty does not have to be in the (socially constructed) eye of the beholder. It can be in the eye of the possessor. And more importantly, it doesn’t have to be the body of the possessor. Beauty can be in anything and everything. Why limit ourselves to a tiny subset of one tiny facet of what beauty can mean?

Why, when we say “beauty,” can’t we mean the sound of a friend’s voice that we haven’t heard for months? Why can’t we mean the rhythm and power of this poem by TS Eliot*? Why can’t we mean the gloriously dulcet, smoky tones of this man’s voice? Why can’t we mean a girl working a fulfilling job she loves, or a man holding his child in his arms? Why have we let beauty slip away from us? And will you join me in stopping the beauty madness?

Today (Monday, July 7) marks the launch of Stop The Beauty Madness, an online activism campaign and conversation jumpstarter around body image, sizeism, race, gender, sexuality, eating disorders, age, representation, and so much more. It aims to change the discourse around beauty, body, value, and self-worth, to help us understand that we are capable of being so much more than square pegs against social beauty standards’ tiny round holes. It features a set of advertising-style images to spark conversation, a blog by the wonderful activists (and founders!) Robin Rice and Lisa Meade, and a 10-week audio series featuring a spectacular panel of Featured Voices. Which I’m not just saying because I’m a part of it. Sonya Renee Taylor, Melissa A. Fabello, Kate Fridkis, Denise Jolly… Dudes. This lineup is sparkling with the diamonds of awesomeness.  I feel like the kid that always got picked last for kickball suddenly being drafted to the Los Angeles Dodgers. How’d this happen?

Want to find out more? Want to help shape this conversation, listen to more than two months’ worth of podcast recordings of the best and brightest in the body positive community? Just like clicking on links? Check it out. StopTheBeautyMadness.com. You won’t be sorry.

*Yes, this is a quietly insidious way of my trying to make sure everyone gets more TS Eliot in their lives. Don’t judge. The man is my spirit animal.