I got the itch to re-read The Invisibles this evening, but this time around I want other people to do it with, the kind of people who’ve read it before, but who’ll re-read it a trade at a time and then hop onto an ongoing email thread or maybe a Facebook group to jaw about stuff like
- Who is John-a-Dreams, really?
- What is the deal with Sir Miles?
- Can we talk about the game aspect?
I really want to call this dumb book club CELL 23, but it takes five people to form a proper Invisible cell. I’m just sayin’.
Because my girlfriend is walking me through Buffy for the very first time and we’re up to season 4, it’s time for me to start watching Angel, which I’m doin’ by myself because completism. We tend to watch our Buffy episodes in bursts, though, so I have to catch up when I can with Angel. All right, that’s enough explainin’, let’s move into s01e05, “Rm w/ a Vu”:
- I am just plain not a fan of this Doyle/Cordelia dynamic. Bro, she is just not feelin’ it, you have got to move on. Have some dignity!
- Of course this nice apartment is haunted, right?
- I like this demon and Angel badassing at each other. Angel has reason to swagger a little, he should do it more often.
- "I’m from Sunnydale, you’re not scaring me!" is an A+ Cordelia line and it should work. How much do ghosts talk to each other? Can they? Shouldn’t they know how hellmouthy it is over there? Part of me wants to insist a supernatural being trying to menace someone from Sunnydale should be like a kid from Beverly Hills trying to menace a full-grown man born and raised on the streets of Detroit, but on the other hand, most people who encountered something supernatural in Sunnydale didn’t really live to tell the tale either. Nevermind.
- Why don’t they just call Giles? Does nobody have his number? He could probably use a research project.
- This ghost is seriously bad news, though; way to make one problem solve another, guys. Do demons die that easily?
- Man, ghost-on-ghost violence! What in the noise is happening
- Please tell me Cordelia’s ghost housemate is going to continue to be a thing all season long.
Aside from those few guys reveling in their spray-tanned fantasy “brogrammer” masculinity, very few people in programming identify with the term “brogrammer”. The brogrammer is always someone else— he is THOSE Facebook guys who yell too loudly at parties and wave bottles in the air, he is not the nice, shy guy who gets paid 30% more because of his race, gender and appeal to the boy-genius fetishes of VCs. The loud and tacky “brogrammer” is a false flag— if you are not a brogrammer, the logic goes, you must be an outcast genius who has suffered long and would never oppress a fly. The industry is full not of the former but the latter— programmers who are smart and may present as harmlessly “nerdy” but whose sense of themselves as being “the underdog” means that it is very hard to see the ways in which they participate in unconsciously but potentially harmful ways in an industry that has coded them as kings. In reality, programmers in Silicon Valley can be fully and invisibly privileged without ever touching a Grey Goose bottle-service setup or a tube of hair gel.
Meanwhile, the mainstream media’s rapid adoption and celebration of the imaginary “brogrammer”— imagining him as the updated version of a Wall Street man, rich, callous, and central to a new American story of wealth— means that this fantasy character is being rapidly heroized and glorified across popular culture. This means that shows like Silicon Valley that claim to “critique” the “brogrammer” only end up re-centering the self-centered young male as American hero, failing to see or critique the deep, coded subtleties by which power in the Valley really works.
Kate Losse (via katherinestasaph)
This is so on point we have to name it Clovis.