That’s our Abelard.
As an aside I had a nightmare for the first time in a long time, a deeply-troubling tale in which the online identities of pretty much everyone I know was usurped by Anonymous, then finally my own.
Stop ran through the door, slamming it shut and fastening the lock with fingers trembling with fatigue. Outside, the legions of Zomanonymbies trudged tirelessly through the barren streets, their ivory faces a sea of unblinking, unrelenting anarchistic justice. The mob would occasionally pause outside neighboring residences, loudly shouting out the illicit internet identities of the inhabitants within for the world to hear.
There was no hiding, no escaping the Anons. They were legion.
Stop ran upstairs, and began hurriedly shoving certain items into a backpack. His World of Warcraft authenticator, his favorite CD which he’d used as an anagram password for his gmail account, anything that could be tied to his online persona. Before he left, he would throw his laptop and router in the fireplace, and pray that the purging fire would keep any precious clues about his e-identity from Anon’s ever-grasping, ever-seeking clutches. He doubted it would work, but he had to try.
“Sara, hurry and get your things! They’re just down the street!” he said, cramming in a digital camera that he’d once used to upload vacation photos to Flickr.
“But…why? They just want to help us. Help the world…” said Sara, her back to him, her frame immobile but for the mouse hand slowly navigating Facebook’s labyrinthine social networks.
Stop’s blood ran cold. He needed to run. He needed to escape. But he needed to know.
He watched, paralyzed with dread, as she slowly turned her chair to face him. He saw himself clearly reflected in the polished curves of her Guy Fawkes mask. He saw terror in his own eyes.
“We do not forgive, Stop,” Anon_Sara said as she looked down at him.
“We do not forget.”
This is a very dark day.
and people wonder why i laugh whenever they try to go “YEAH WELL THIS IS WHAT THE DICTIONARY SAYS” because come the fuck on
This is BULLSHIT.
It’s unfortunate that this label and the negative connotations are going to be the official name for this definition. If you read the actual definition they will be using, it doesn’t include the modern sense of male entitlement or the vilification that comes from a girl or woman saying no. The definition is simply a platonic friendship where one side has an unspoken romantic interest in the other. There’s no mention of gender or sex, and this is certainly something that existed before the MRA or whatever idiots lay claim to this occurrence like a disgusting badge of honor.
What I’m trying to say is, if you removed the stupid label there’d be nothing wrong with the definition. Platonic friendship/unrequited love has been a theme since basically forever, and by itself there’s nothing wrong with it. It happens. It’s absurdly common in love songs, it happens all the times in movies, books, stories, you name it - to people/characters of ALL genders. Hell, Shakespeare wrote about it in some of his works, notably Twelfth Night, where Viola laments her secret crush on Orsino. (This is complicated by the fact she’s pretending to be a man, but I digress.)
More recently, doesn’t Taylor Swift have a song about a friendship with a guy that she wishes turned romantic? Not that she’s a shining bastion of gender rights or anything, but my point is that it’s a very real and common thing that happens to people, regardless of gender, and therefore I think it SHOULD be in the dictionary, yes. Once again - like they’ve defined it, without any of the misogynistic BS that labeling it “friend zone” automatically implies.
Anyway, I’m disappointed not that the definition of this theme is going to be in the dictionary (I think it should be, in the language they’ve used) but that they’re associating it with such a negative, shameful title. This doesn’t help women OR global intellectualism/vocabulary, Oxford.
in what fucking situation do you ever need this picture for
i will piss on your sofa
the ocean is her natural habitat