[Bacchus]

Just one look at our author, and you just know you're in for a good one. So fat, she can't even hide it in a tightly cropped pic:



http://www.xojane.com/issues/fat-shaming-train-bully

Anyway, I can't believe she shared this story. It's not like she scored some kind of victory for fatties. Instead, she's just another data point confirming the mental instability of the SJW set.

Quote:

"They're costing millions in taxpayer money. Why should I have to pay because some fat slob is too lazy to get off the couch and take care of themself? They're killing the NHS!"

I took a deep breath and locked eyes with my friend across the aisle. The man behind us on the train had been ranting for nearly 10 minutes, and my patience was waning. I shook my head in a silent "I’m about to lose my shit." My friend nodded back as if to say, "I know," his cheeks flushing red.

We were using what I call "stigma shorthand" — a silent language of winks and nods used by the hyper-vigilant to keep each other safe.

"I might have to say something." I finally said out loud. He nodded again. I took another deep breath and thought about whether or not I could live with myself if I didn't.

"They’re irresponsible! They're just like drunks!" the man behind us said loudly. "They should be fined!"

Right. That was it. My partner, who up until this point had been blissfully consumed with her Tuna Nicoise, startled a bit as I rose to look behind me.

What I’d meant to say was: "Hi! I'm a real live fat person. You maybe have never met one before in real life? I'm just assuming that 'cause no one would ever say the things you’re saying about someone they actually cared about. But just so you know, I’m up here in front of you being an actual human being, so if you can't stop yourself being hateful, maybe you could at least have the courtesy to do it elsewhere?"

Except I only got as far as, "Hi! I'm a real live fat person," before I realized that the bearded bully in the blue sweater behind me knew exactly who was sitting in front of him — and he was ready for me. Before I could get out another word, he tilted his head, slumped his shoulders in a resigned sigh, and thrust an interrupting hand toward my face.

"Okay," he said (the "let's DO this, Tubby!" subtly implied), "I'm just saying, my wife" —he motioned to the mute but surly looking blonde next to him — "is a nurse, my son is studying to become a doctor. You have to admit that everything I'm saying is based in fact."

I was thrown. I'd naively assumed that basic human decency would kick in once he realized an actual person of the variety he was maligning was within earshot. In my imagination, he'd looked surprised, mumbled an awkward apology, and that had been that. But that was totally not that.

Mr. Smug was all worked up in a self-righteous lather and he was spoiling for a logic-based fight about fiscal responsibility and the "obesity epidemic." All I wanted was to enjoy my day trip without listening to someone endlessly hate-wank about my right to live. And his complete lack of remorse was so disarming that, for the life of me, I couldn't think of a single damned thing to say in my defense.

I tried — bless me, I did — but 20 years of activism, education, and insight just evaporated in the face of his pompous entitlement. I flailed blindly. I maybe got in a good one-liner or two — but when he asked me if I had Type I or Type II diabetes (not having diabetes at all was apparently not an option) and then proclaimed "Yet!" when I said I had neither, I utterly lost my cool. I reverted to my elementary school bully-defense tactics, called him a "Fuck" and told him to shut up.

"I don't think I will!" he sassed, and then continued to rant at the back of my head as I faced forward and sat down.

My friend across the aisle interceded and, based solely on a grudging white male mutual respect, Mr. Smug conceded the point that perception is subjective and even if he himself was OBVIOUSLY not being hateful, I (the witless fatty) may be perceiving his speech as such and thus he might consider toning it down a bit. After a few minutes more of indignant snorting and exclamations of "illogical!," the man and his wife changed topics.

I retreated into my iPhone, my hands shaking, my stomach sick with the conflict, doing my damnedest not to give him the satisfaction of tears. My partner helplessly patted my leg, my friend tried to calm me with cute dog videos, but I was gone — turned inward and busied with the work that those of us who face this kind of discrimination every day are far too familiar with — the work of not believing that we are intrinsically worthless.

And when the tears inevitably came, despite my best efforts, I was absolutely furious. Furious that I failed to defend myself, furious that some random man on a train was able to reduce me to tears, and furious that I couldn't find any compassion for myself about either.

It's been three days now since that blue-sweatered bully got off the train and I've been thinking about that interaction almost nonstop. As a 5'8", 350-pound woman with blue-streaked hair, and, as I'm told, a "big personality," I don't move through the world quietly. As such, I've gotten used to comments, stares, and even the occasional bit of physical violence. These days, it takes quite a bit to get me truly riled up in a way I can’t move past in a matter of minutes.

At this point, the hilarity factor declines sharply, as the essay devolves into a smattering of SJW buzzwords. I've therefore omitted it because it draws the focus away from our hero, the man in the blue sweater who withstood a charging hippo and a reduced her to tears.

[WanderingSoul]

350lbs? Jesus Christ. I honestly didn't know woman who were that big could actually walk still. That's massive. That's almost twice what I weigh.

[GoldHawkStar]

Quote:

We were using what I call "stigma shorthand" — a silent language of winks and nods used by the hyper-vigilant to keep each other safe.

Quote:

I retreated into my iPhone, my hands shaking, my stomach sick with the conflict, doing my damnedest not to give him the satisfaction of tears. My partner helplessly patted my leg, my friend tried to calm me with cute dog videos, but I was gone...

This bitch makes me cringe so hard. You just know her and her friend are as socially awkward and downright odd as a person can get.

[El Chinito loco]

(01-22-2015 11:45 PM)Bacchus Wrote:  

Just one look at our author, and you just know you're in for a good one. So fat, she can't even hide it in a tightly cropped pic:




I took a deep breath


I shook my head in a silent "I’m about to lose my shit." My friend nodded back as if to say, "I know," his cheeks flushing red.


I took another deep breath and thought about whether or not I could live with myself




I reverted to my elementary school bully-defense tactics, called him a "Fuck" and told him to shut up.



I retreated into my iPhone, my hands shaking, my stomach sick with the conflict

And when the tears inevitably came, despite my best efforts, I was absolutely furious.

As a 5'8", 350-pound woman with blue-streaked hair, I don't move through the world quietly.

The bolded parts are the only parts that I believe to be factual in this tale of SJW struggle.


Also she reminds me of this character from the Road Warrior.

[VincentVinturi]

This Brobdingnagian creature is like a caricature of your typical SJW.

Lesbian? Check.

Woman? Supposedly.

Fat? Mastodonic.

'Educated' in one of our fine universities? Yes.

Activist for stupid causes? The stupider the better.

Believes she has a right to not be offended? Of course.

Writes eloquently (for xoJane mind you) yet has no brains to speak of? Ya.

[MrXY]

9/10 WBTMBAN=Would Buy That Man Beers All Night

[JustlookingForAGoodTime]

5'8, 350lbs and she expects not to be called out for being a disgusting lardass?

[Geomann180]

A point by point vivisection is in order here:

Quote:

The man behind us on the train had been ranting for nearly 10 minutes, and my patience was waning.

Probably sugar cravings.

Quote:

My friend nodded back as if to say, "I know," his [fat] cheeks flushing red.

Edited for accuracy.

Quote:

We were using what I call "stigma shorthand" — a silent language of winks and nods used by the hyper-vigilant to keep each other safe.

Because "stigma longhand" is too much effort.

Quote:

"I might have to say something." I finally said out loud. He nodded again. I took another deep breath and thought about whether or not I could live with myself if I didn't.

Die Qual der Wahl.

Quote:

What I’d meant to say was: "Hi! I'm a real live fat person. You maybe have never met one before in real life? I'm just assuming that 'cause no one would ever say the things you’re saying about someone they actually cared about. But just so you know, I’m up here in front of you being an actual human being, so if you can't stop yourself being hateful, maybe you could at least have the courtesy to do it elsewhere?"

She didn't have this in her head at all. Pure lies. I trust this woman as about as far I can throw her.

Quote:

Except I only got as far as, "Hi! I'm a real live fat person," before I realized that the bearded bully in the blue sweater behind me knew exactly who was sitting in front of him

Everyone knows what you are, hambeast.

Quote:

I was thrown.

Impossible.

Quote:

I'd naively assumed that basic human decency would kick in once he realized an actual person of the variety he was maligning was within earshot. In my imagination, he'd looked surprised, mumbled an awkward apology, and that had been that. But that was totally not that.

It wasn't a naive assumption - it was an entitled one - and plain stupid.

Quote:

Mr. Smug was all worked up in a self-righteous lather and he was spoiling for a logic-based fight about fiscal responsibility and the "obesity epidemic." All I wanted was to enjoy my day trip without listening to someone endlessly hate-wank about my right to live. And his complete lack of remorse was so disarming that, for the life of me, I couldn't think of a single damned thing to say in my defense.

All you had to say was:

Quote:

I tried — bless me, I did — but 20 years of activism, education, and insight just evaporated in the face of his pompous entitlement. I flailed blindly. I maybe got in a good one-liner or two — but when he asked me if I had Type I or Type II diabetes (not having diabetes at all was apparently not an option) and then proclaimed "Yet!" when I said I had neither, I utterly lost my cool. I reverted to my elementary school bully-defense tactics, called him a "Fuck" and told him to shut up.

The dam buckles under the pressure and bursts with bile and insulin.

Tried? What, you want a cookie? You probably do.

Quote:

[b]I retreated into my iPhone, my hands shaking, my stomach sick with the conflict, doing my damnedest not to give him the satisfaction of tears. My partner helplessly patted my leg, my friend tried to calm me with cute dog videos, but I was gone — turned inward and busied with the work that those of us who face this kind of discrimination every day are far too familiar with — the work of not believing that we are intrinsically worthless.

This is the phase where the woman hates herself even more and she either A) Works out or B) Doubles down on her hate for thin-privileged freaks of nature like Mr. Smug.

Quote:

And when the tears inevitably came, despite my best efforts, I was absolutely furious. Furious that I failed to defend myself, furious that some random man on a train was able to reduce me to tears, and furious that I couldn't find any compassion for myself about either.

Furious because not even lesbians will dump a fuck in you.

Quote:

[b]It's been three days now since that blue-sweatered bully got off the train and I've been thinking about that interaction almost nonstop.

Can't stop thinking about the big bad wol-- I mean, Mr. Smug?

Quote:

As a 5'8", 350-pound woman with blue-streaked hair, and, as I'm told, a "big personality," I don't move through the world quietly

An understatement.

G

[JustlookingForAGoodTime]

Check the comments. Even they are jumping on "her" for the fail.

[Barron]

Quote:

"but I was gone — turned inward and busied with the work that those of us who face this kind of discrimination every day are far too familiar with — the work of not believing that we are intrinsically worthless."

[jariel]

[Horus]

(01-23-2015 12:18 AM)Geomann180 Wrote:  

Quote:

I was thrown.

Impossible.

[Mike5055]

Hyper-vigilant? Must be the sugar high.

[Flying Donkey]

She should have paid double for taking up two seats.

[samsamsam]

(01-23-2015 01:13 AM)Mike5055 Wrote:  

Hyper-vigilant? Must be the sugar high.

That caught my attention also. And "big personality."

I think what happens is a woman goes on a tailspin of emotional eating, doesn't pull out in time - hehe maybe her father should have that night - and the fatty at this point crashes her blimp into the ground and just stops giving a fuck. And then all of a sudden her opinion matters and she doesn't care anymore and she has a big personality. So fucking annoying.

She has become deluded into thinking she is some street vigilante with blue hair as a helmet and fake bird feathers as her armor.

I love the part where she starts with "Hi! I'm a real live fat person" thinking it was a Disney movie and the dude would say, "Golly gee you're right. I am a terrible human being, you are a special snowflake and I am going to donate all my money to fat people."

Quote:

my stomach sick with the conflict

No that sick feeling is when you swallow small children without chewing.

This is a great comment on her stupid article and the pathetic website.

Quote:

urmambleyagging Buttercup Rocks • 2 days ago
When I saw 'I stood up to' in the headline, I legitimately expected a story where somebody stood up to a person that was wronging them. I wanted to stand behind the author and feel empowered vicariously and carry that momentum into my own life. Instead? Another piece where the author is shit on, does nothing, then passive aggressively whines about it. It's the opposite of empowering.

Look, yeah, I can go snark on GOMI if I want to, or wherever. But I think the point your missing is that I did not come to XOjane to snark on this piece. I saw the headline and expected to be inspired and to feel some 'you go girl!' within me and I am disappointed and misled and kind of tired of it.

You found her not speaking up and then writing an article about it inspiring, and that is ok. On my end, I am disappointed that a woman's website keeps posting pieces that are supposed to be empowering or inspiring and they're written for and by women, but usually showcase women backing down, messing up, failing, flopping, or whatever shitty situation and then not doing anything to handle it or correct it and with no follow up or lesson.

Why don't you expect more? Why don't you want more? Why is this repeat pattern ok with you? You stand up for yourself. You aren't passive. You seem strong and capable. Doesn't it ever make you feel sad and disappointed that a website you love/like so much and have frequented and commented on for years consistently posts the failings of women without an equivalent amount of lessons or strengths or courage or empowerment?

I think you interpret my disappointment as me just being shitty in general and here to snark and not me feeling let down that, once again, a woman's website publishes pieces for and by women highlighting their passivity, or 'almost do' attitude. It bugs. I want more. I want pieces reflecting some strength I can relate to and stand behind. And if it's a piece about failing and messing up, I want reflection and plans or lessons learned or something to apply. I just want more. There used to be more here and it makes me sad. We can all do better.

[Handsome Creepy Eel]

Meanwhile in Africa:



p.s. Kevin Carter, the reporter who took this iconic photo committed suicide three months later due to being drained dry by child support:

Quote:

"I'm really, really sorry. The pain of life overrides the joy to the point that joy does not exist... depressed ... without phone ... money for rent ... money for child support ... money for debts ... money!!! ... I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings and corpses and anger and pain ... of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners ... I have gone to join Ken if I am that lucky."

[samsamsam]

(01-23-2015 02:40 AM)Handsome Creepy Eel Wrote:  

Meanwhile in Africa:

I swear that depresses me. Women do that thing called locks of love and they donate hair.

Why don't they do lots of lard and donate some fat to these poor kids.

[Pontifex Maximus]

(01-22-2015 11:45 PM)Bacchus Wrote:  

That hideous hair color. Actual photo of ham-beast versus blue-sweater man.

[Suits]

(01-23-2015 12:18 AM)Geomann180 Wrote:  

Quote:

I was thrown.

Impossible.

[Suits]

Quote:

As a 5'8", 350-pound woman with blue-streaked hair, and, as I'm told, a "big personality," I don't move through the world quietly

[Rawmeo]

One seat per ass cheek.

What most of them don't realize is that, the problem can be fixed. Do exercise, eat healthy, stop being lazy, and you'll get in a good shape.

[Paracelsus]

Two amusing parts to this:

(1) The fact she put quotation marks around "obesity epidemic" as if it were not a real thing.

First, the CDC calls it an epidemic. The percentages are not arguable, and in no universe is 350lbs for a woman a healthy weight, and as the recent study pointed out, there's no such thing as being healthy fat.

Second, it's called an epidemic because of advocacy by people like thunderthighs here, because people too fucking fat want to shift blame from themselves for their condition to the suggestion they've contracted something. "And now the weather forecast. Large clouds of Big Macs are likely for this afternoon and early evening, so we encourage anyone prone to obesity to stay indoors and keep their mouths shut until the present inclement conditions abate."

Exactly what part of "obesity epidemic" does she not agree with? The claimed frequency of lardballs, the definition of obese, or what?

(2) Note that she was with a male companion, who (perhaps refreshingly) didn't charge in full-tilt until his hambeast associate was in trouble. You can almost smell her irritation that he stayed the fuck down and wasn't going to say anything on her behalf. And still, here we have it. The archetypical fat internet warrior, recipient of 20 years of feminist diatribes that women are equal to men, taught she's special and can say whatever she wants whenever she wants ... just fucking melts when confronted with a real life person who doesn't agree with her and doesn't automatically back down and kowtow on being confronted. She will never say it, but she will have been wishing throughout that encounter that there was a real man around to step in and "do something", preferably something violent.

[Paracelsus]

(01-23-2015 02:45 AM)samsamsam Wrote:  

(01-23-2015 02:40 AM)Handsome Creepy Eel Wrote:  

Meanwhile in Africa:

I swear that depresses me. Women do that thing called locks of love and they donate hair.

Why don't they do lots of lard and donate some fat to these poor kids.

Too many pounds of flesh. Shylock himself couldn't cut that back to the lean.

[Daedmo]

She may not have diabetes, but you can guarantee she has some nasty personal hygiene issues. Those folds of sweaty flesh are the perfect breeding grounds for bacteria and fungus.

I love the way these fat SJW types talk about their obesity as if it was some kind of congenital disability and not the direct result of their gluttonous and slovenly lifestyle. Of course part of being a leftist is to reject all concepts of personal responsibility. Maybe she can lobby the government to make a law against fat-shaming, or create special "fat zones" where fatties can go and feel safe.

[Surreyman]

Isn't it fascinating how she took it all so personally? I really doubt the man intended her to 'feel worthless' or whatever, he was making a point about responsibility, as one might about alcoholism etc.

Despite that, she sees his criticism as a personal attack, takes it personally, and offers no logical reply, just wants him to be quiet because of her "feelings".

In other words, she's being avoidant, and he's talking about the things she's avoiding thinking about. That was the real crime.