the cult of lena dunham’s critics…. and me by @ryanmega

This is what happens when you have two decades of reality TV. The magnified celebrity and criticism only makes the mediocre famous. So we find ourselves in a world overrun by paperweight critics with nothing of merit to shit on, flocking to dissect the tiniest fleck of creativity in this mass marketed media madhouse called modernity.  The only thing arguably worse than the show Girls is the number of its critics. I have withheld my critique of the show because in the least, I’m entertained. Still, I was kind of happy to not be in an English speaking country when the new season debuted, if only to avoid the swarm of repetitive opinions the next day. I didn’t go to Mexico to get away from Girls. I went to get away from the writings of these pseudo journalists who are clearly missing the train.  There are at least 1 million other things in the world worth more ink. And now, more than ever, those stories should be shared (think Vice in Pakistan, but not video). I am not usually overwhelmed by the sick influence of my twitter feed, but usually there is enough good news happening on my timeline to balance the bad. Not lately. All we hear or see is war, debate, filibuster, recession, and crisis. That or some hack’s B.S. critique of one of the best things HBO has fucking produced.  The world’s bullshit is encroaching my livelihood and it’s of the utmost concern that seemingly talented people feel the need to write about Girls. When the fictional life of a white chick in Brooklyn is the epicenter of a zeitgeist in modern existentialism, it’s safe to say we all lost our fucking way.

I needed to know why. After all, it’s just a show. People show me a lot of shit in life. A guy at the grocery showed my home girl his dick just this morning. Don’t watch the show if you don’t like it. And if you do, please shut the fuck up about it already. This is my approach to all television. But there is a cult for criticism of this show. Why are so many people getting paid to weigh in on this Lena Dunham thing? When I returned, I watched the shows again and checked the new episodes for clues. I deduced that I liked the idea of it because I was a closeted fan of Sex and the City.  It’s connected. The main characters are both broke writers in New York for one. But there are many shows like that, and I can only think of these two. I compared myself to their boyfriends and their backgrounds, but that wasn’t quite the reason for my fandom. I dug deeper and concluded Hanna’s character as a projections of my own wants. Why? Because everybody wants to be a pretty white chick. Hanna Horvitz. Carrie Bradshaw. Me. You. Everybody.  This is what pulls, but what the critics can’t admit. They are in awe of Hanna the misfit hipster because she is expressing this realization.

That is the theme of the show. There hasn’t been a second Lena Dunham because there hasn’t been another honest declaration of failure in the quest in being a pretty white chick.  Hanna talks to that inner being in us all. That’s why the show Girls is big now. A lot of people searching for identity simply envy Hanna’s level of comfort in her own skin as the moderately funny fat girl who will never be the pretty girl.  She seems one step ahead of the hipster curve for this reason. Critics ask themselves is Hanna happy? Does she want a husband or a party pal or a cat and a library card? Is Hanna me? (Fans say yes to them all) They see themselves as Hanna because no other character on TV speaks to the alienation; we are all hipsters denying our desire to turn into pretty white girls. Dunham is the spokesperson for this generation after all. That’s why they want Lena Dunham to create characters of color and write less absurd story lines and change the wardrobe and get a real job etc. This show is their reality. This is an understandable fallacy considering we have ingested the same thing for years. High fashion, cheap vodka, hummus, reality TV, dating shows, hyped literature, and techno music, all cornerstones in the diet of the pretty white chick.  We are Hanna. Hanna is everyone. The truth will set you free.

I discovered my envy on a beach in Mexico. There was too much Fleet Foxes and Band of Horses on my iPod to deny it. I’d been juicing and eating Salada, doing happy hour 5 days a week,  and chain-smoking cigarettes for fun. I had a blackberry alert for yoga class. I wanted to be a pretty white chick. This is why I watch Girls. At that moment of clarity, life was foreign and empty.  But I rationalized my self loathing. The critics and fans should all rationalize these projected feelings reflected by this show. Admit it. How would life change for you struggling artists if you had the perks of the pretty white chick? Fake tits and blonde hair and you’re VIP club right? With these low standards for success in the demographic, it’s no coincidence that most influential white women in society are gay, fat, or just unfuckable. The Dems and the GOP both cherish them and apparently the only way pretty white girls die is skin cancer or pill overdoses. Its absurd, but only with absurdity do you achieve fame for being a pretty chick. Fame leads to fortune and we all want it the easy way.  The QB GF chick in the crowd at the Alabama game will have a more envious lifestyle than any new doctor in America and maybe make more money. Natural 7’s are making millions from web cam operations. Each year tax dollars are spent to save a pretty white chick from an escapade gone awry.  I’m jealous. You’re jealous. Hanna’s jealous. How can you blame us? We want to get free money to show our pussy when we hop out of the limousine too.  We know we won’t have it that easy. Hanna thrives on living this realization and Dunham gets honors for telling it honestly.  The rest is just for show.




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