Reviewing the reviewers

I picked up a Blender magazine in the airport last weekend, and I managed to pick my way through most of it over the week. It has a few entertaining reads, but it also combines the worst aspects of classic Rolling Stone and today’s media climate. It’s sex, drugs and snark, with maybe some rock and roll on the side.

If I had time for such things (or some cool data-analysis software), I’d look up the number of times the word “laid” appears in this issue. Sample contexts:

– “Who gets laid more, fans of The Simpsons or fans of Family Guy?”

– “If I listen to The Killers, can I still get laid?”

– “How often do the members of The Killers get laid?”

– “How will Fred Durst’s frequency of getting laid affect his life expectancy?”

– “Laid blah blah laid blah blah blah groupies blah blah laid.”

There’s a key difference in the sex-and-music cultures of the 1960s/1970s and today. The 60s and 70s had a Love The One You’re With vibe — perhaps it was a little self-indulgent, but the idea was to let everyone have a good time. Blender adds unappealing snark to the mix — if you’re not getting laid, you’re obviously a loser. Except that we’re also supposed to hate those who are getting laid who don’t deserve it.

The sexual entitlement turns nasty in the reviews. They rip the Indigo Girls — “For nearly two decades, the tireless, humorless Georgia duo …” Seems obvious what the problem is here. As lesbians, the Indigos contribute nothing to the essential quest of men getting laid.

(For more on sex-crazed men and lesbians, try to catch the rerun of the Joshua Jackson Saturday Night Live episode in which some frat guys make a wish to see some hot lesbian action, only to see Ana Gasteyer and someone else calling each other “earth mother” and engaging in stuff that you wouldn’t see in hetero-oriented porn. Sadly, there’s no transcript.)

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