An open letter to Gwyneth Paltrow
My antipathy toward you is well-documented (cf. my blog, my Twitter, and go ahead and Google Gwyneth K. Paltrow, while you're at it. Seriously. Guess who's up first? ME!). I am in the midst of trying to become kinder and more Zen about life, more forgiving of my own and other people's actions, but you, you dumb twat, are making it impossible.
You recently caused a brouhaha for being a dumbass on Twitter. I'm not going to repeat what you wrote, because I AM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT like some people, but I am going to say this:
There is never, ever, EVER a moment in your white life where you can use a racial slur and think it is okay.
I don't care how many friends of other races you have; I don't care if you're singing along to Public Enemy or NWA in your suburban home on a Saturday morning, while you're running your vacuum to momentarily get rid of the cat hair tumbleweeds, wondering where it all went wrong, you do not say that. You just don't.
You don't get a pass because it's in a song. You don't get a pass because you're friends with the singer. You don't get a pass because you're famous (just ask Michael Richards).
The level of self-delusion and self-involvement in you defies science. Seriously. I cannot fathom being that wrong-headed and clueless so much of the time. It's as if there was a dangerous experiment that went suddenly awry and Gwyn-zilla is the result.
Shit. Did I just insult the Japanese?
But not to you, Gwyneth.
Never to you.