Reblogging Julia

Losing my religion.

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 10:00:00 -0400

I am, once again, losing my will to parse.

You’ve heard it all before, and at this point, Our Lady of Introspection has sunk far below the caricature water mark and is now an openly mocked joke - like bringing a braying donkey to a pig party. One Handmaiden is still circling the cereal bowl, and the other jumped ship and is riding the wave of “thank God you aren’t Julia” to her dreams of a sponsor-laden tumblr.

I hesitate to say never again, but I can only jump a beached shark so many times before my leather jacket is shot to shit. They aren’t even interesting enough to parse, not that they ever were. However, I pride myself on giving notice, and even if I can’t give you my precise date of resignation, I will soldier on, for your convenience, as always ribbed and bulleted for your pleasure.

Our Lady of Introspection

Stop me if you have heard this before. Julia senses that Mary might co opt the Gawker media cycle (on account of Mary’s imminent but not officially announced departure), she emails the NYP (as does the ‘agent’ - who surely isn’t earning his 10%) to plant an item about her hooking up with the newly acquired QB. The giveaway was the “she was just drinking water.” Jules, you do need a PR person, as you lack basic common sense on the simple art of planting an item. Also the ‘fact-checking’ of the NYP, wondering if I recognized the email address of the tipster. Uh, yes.
An Easter ensemble fit for Halloween. In my universe, your mother didn’t say a word about the get up, just to outclass you in church and silently signal to the congregation and the internet that they, too, have personal challenges .
Oh, there was a Cancer Dan post, a reprinted email. Knowing from personal experience that he abhors public attention where she is concerned, that is as classy as the Easter outfit.
She tagged along to a “social networking” conference, which is hysterical, as she tried to shut down rebloggers and commenters on her own blog (which she calls a business). The only communities she inspires are those that skewer her, and she can’t draw more than a couple of dozen comments on Gawker anymore. NS fans number about 50 on FB. She only ‘favorites’ her own twitter posts. Her site should be “nonsocial”, but then again, the monniker was kind of close.

Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds - Meghan

Nothing. No really, nothing. She’s pretty, can’t spell or write, doesn’t have anything to say, and hitched her wagon to the wrong donkey. Rumors of her spine and intellect were vastly overstated. She just doesn’t have anything better to do, and now, she is the unequivocal ‘hot one.” Hooray.

Handmaiden of Passive Aggression - Mary

Mary’s new venture was announced, and as set forth above, JA tried her damndest to spin the news cycle for the few hundred people who cared.
Mary struck back, with her own Gawker media grab, again, misunderstanding that she was preaching to about two dozen people who might read her blog. I will always love her passive aggressive digs, as she was featured on Gawker for absolutely nothing a few days earlier and she proudly linked it. Which had to piss JA off, as JA can’t get any Gawker love these days.
Unfortunately, one can only ride the “fuck yeah, you aren’t Julia, tell us some JA dirt” for so long. To her credit, she seems to be doing something a little different in the blog department, even if she thinks that she is the first person on the internet to accept shwag for shill. And by different, I mean different than JA, not different by a ton of bloggers with much more talent and a much larger, if not as high profile, readership.
Mary is after airline and car sponsorships, not because she has built a genuine relationship with her readers, but because she is moving to LA and she needs transport there and a car when she gets settled. And yet, I sort of dig that about her. Go big (I am predicting a green car) or go home.
In all sincerity, whether I parse again, I am leaving Mary off the radar for the foreseeable future, unless she does something really goddamn stupid (crosses finges). She emerged as the most self-aware of the three, despite a high handicap of ignorance and self-importance, and I give credit where it is due. Also, I am going to have drinks with her soon.

Anatomy of an internet breakdown. Please email.

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 16:24:00 -0400

Our Lady of Introspection is on a spiral of insanity usually reserved for Courtney Love on a long weekend bender. If you live your life on the internet while steadfastly maintaining that you have another life somewhere else, eventually, you are bound to go a little nuts when truth and reality collide. Also, if you have to repeatedly assure people you really are nice and likeable, you are just a poor man’s version of GWB in a pink flight jumpsuit, proclaiming that the mission was accomplished.

Anyway, onward, to all JA ribbed and bulleted goodness:

She went a little nuts about mean internet people. At first she got drunk and told the internet she just wanted to be loved and begged to meet her critics. Then she sobered up and told the haters the fuck off because her business is just for fun and that the audience was taking internet life too seriously.
She then assailed Mary because Mary suggested that three of the seven Great Lakes were polluted. I’m sure those great Chicago beaches are optimally deserted for doing Disney lipdubs and all, but no one goes to Chicago for the beaches on spring break (in March).
And while we are at it, TMI, “Spring Break?” Look, I get these are lean times, and your current flagshit advertiser is Axe, but ladies? None of you are in school anymore. Live differently, like you are a late 20’s woman, living in virtual Gossip Girl high school that no one watches, faking a life that you devoutly watched on a marginally better cable television program.
Oh, I haz a fat (I weigh 120 pounds, dripping wet). Please email me and tell me I am not fat, lest I spend my sleepless nights fabricating fan mail.
Oh, I hazzed a date. My fanboy reader didn’t mind me telling you the details of the whole evening, so if you have fifteen minutes and want to read the 2000 word description of what happens when a self-proclaimed fameball/egoblogger/dating expert tries to accomplish the rather elementary social activity of having dinner with a ~~potential love interest~~ blog material, please read my name-dropping account. Please email me to confirm that I can do better.
Also, my ex has cancer. Have I ever mentioned that? Please email me for support in my trying times.
Please email whenever. I am busy with Bradshaw fan fic and have a full inbox, but I will get back to you in 60 seconds, just like that Angelina movie. I never sleep, just like Jordan in Real Genuis, only 98% less adorable.

It takes about a week to fill up the card. Thanks, tipsters.

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 13:21:22 -0400

It takes about a week to fill up the card. Thanks, tipsters.

Big trouble in little internet.

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 13:34:00 -0400

Oh, the Days of Inanity. Big changes are afoot. Mary is leaving, JA got fired, and Meghan is still trying to win friends and influence people. Onward with bulleting goodness:

Our Handmaiden of Passive Aggression:

Big news is that, according to Gawker, who got a tip about a drunken confession from Our Lady of Introspection (who never drinks, ever), Mary is leaving the the band. This is about as surprising as a Lohan relapse, but congratulations to my favorite wrist fannypack designer.
Her send off was this, a Jack Handy-cribbed Deep Thoughts about the future of internet content. Protip, Mary: in the future, ask your “editor” to post something vaguely resembling your own voice and vocabulary and overall understanding of sentence structure and syntax. You might want to ask your former partner about the plagiarist label on the way out.
Oh wait, was this the “guest post” you ~~backdated~~ foreshadowed a few hours ~~later~~ earlier? Odd that you didn’t credit it as such. The internet never sleeps, Mary. Want the screenshot?
In all sincerity, best of luck to you. You are the only one who developed something approximating a tolerable internet personality, and you did so in spite of considerable odds, given the dimly lit marquee name on the blog. Avoid any discussion of politics, current events, healthy body image and eating habits, colonic benefits and naturopathy generally, (shit this list is getting long), pretty much anything beyond fashion, spinning and self deprecation and JA passive aggression. Blow outs and blow jobs, Mary. Win your demographic. Talk about the teeth, and how it is good for the former and not the latter.
If you ever want to know just how loyal your (now former) business partner was, do drop me a line. Also, say hello to Leven for me.

Our Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds:

Megs - may I call you Megs? Mary beat you to the finish line, sweetie. Thought I would tell you, in case your laptop died and you weren’t checking the internet.
May I ask why a tech blogger didn’t know to back up her files? I think we both know the answer to that.
“The more information you put out about yourself, the more you data is out there for marketers.” And pimping Flicker? Megs, I don’t think your heart is in this whole tech blogging thing.
Ah, but I see you are taking up the Mary slack of passive aggression. Megs, like tech blogging, this just isn’t you. Mary’s appeal is bluntness and willingness to make an ass out of herself. Yours is being naturally attractive, likeable, and seemingly embarrassed to be in the photo.
Pull the trigger, Megs. Break up with this tragic rebound. You have gleaned enough from your 50 word posts about the internet to know a little bit about internet branding, and how yours is swirling the bowl.

Our Lady of Introspection:

Bottom billing is deserved.
She says she quit Time Out New York, which looks ~~suspiciously~~ exactly like this thing.
“I have loved being a dating columnist, but Carrie Bradshaw 2.0 is played out. I think I am columned out right now.” You got canned. Again. File it under the dumped column in your stalker file.
There is a lot to parse in the HuffPo article, but most of it has been scrubbed in the light of day, and really, who gives a shit anymore.
Goddamn if this doesn’t say it all. Ricky VanVeen was her first target, and when he proved unavailable, she went for Jakob Lodwick. It appears Ricky has the exact same impression of her as he did a few years ago. (mirror, in case it dies, which seems to happen, and very much worth a click)
Also, JA? Don’t mock College Humor’s television program. It is airing on a major network. Bravo threw your “pilot” in the trash. Ask for the focus group studies, particularly the feedback about you. I have a copy if you need it.

Press on tattoo.

Fri, 13 Mar 2009 16:21:00 -0400

Ahem.

Our Lady of Introspection got a tramp stamp on her wrist, which is probably the body part of hers that sees the most action, if you really think about it. Three letters: LIU.

Does she see herself in a Charlie’s Angels movie with Lucy? Could be, as those taxicab confessions aren’t going to keep her in the lifestyle to which she has become accustomed. Except they probably are - single, stalkery and social kryptonite. Living differently apparently means starring in ProActiv filler spots on a cable network you have never heard of - from Web 2.0 to public access cable 1.0. To be captured in a photoshoot for a magazine you also never knew existed.
Did she trade Harvard Business School for Long Island University? That seems a little too self-aware for our Lady of Lee Press-On Nails.
Apparently, the drunken-girl-on-spring-break inspiration for this was the immortal words of her grandmother - Let It Unfold - who hasn’t spoken to her daughter-in-law (Our Lady’s mother) for 29 years. That has to make her mother proud.
Safe bet is that it is easily removed. Our Lady is as edgy as an omelette, and, as Mary so graciously pointed out, it doesn’t work well with pearls. Luckily, Mary has just the wrist fannypack to save the day.
Meghan? I think you know I know. Don’t let me down. This one time in band camp, I was totally on your team. Pull the trigger, Meghan.
Finally, there was this bizarro thing on their TMI website, where all three of them basically admitted that they use sex as currency and something they dole out on a schedule. Yeah. Stunning that they are all single. Want to live differently? Stop thinking you are holding some holy grail of fulfillment, as most men can give as well as they receive. Bases? Are you in fucking high school? Jesus. Join a softball team. Don’t wear a helmet and hope for a fast ball inside.

What a difference a year doesn't make.

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 12:01:00 -0500

From the archives, one year ago:

From: Julia Allison julia@juliaallison.com>
Date: Wed, Mar 5, 2008 at 2:46 PM
Subject: A thought
To: Jakob Lodwick
Chance to do the right thing!

I’m going to the apple store tomorrow to buy a macbook air.

It would be amazing if you lived up to your promise from this christmas.

How about it, JL?

The response:

On 3/5/08 3:54 PM, “Jakob” wrote:

I took “Jakob is bipolar” to mean “all obligations are off”

————— Forwarded message —————
From: Julia Allison julia@juliaallison.com>
Date: Wed, Mar 5, 2008 at 4:16 PM
Subject: Re: Some thoughts
To: Jakob

I think it’s strange you’re still hung up on that! It was three months ago. No one cares about it!!

It was a year ago, JA. I’m sure no one remembers it, or the egregious breach of common sense and decency in her Gawker post, but I am sure no one cares about it. Double exclamation points.

You are clearly evolved and different now. ~~No more posting dozens of pictures of you in a tacky Barbie dress~~. ~~No more mentioning of the long ago, cancer fighting ex when you need sympathy~~. ~~No more tweeting for hopeful jealous reactions~~. ~~No more passive aggressive bitchslapping with your “business partners,”~~ ~~who seem anything but in lock step.~~

You are pretty much the same girl who would still send this email if she wasn’t worried that her ‘lifecast’ might get derailed by reality. Or Gawker. Sorry about that. I wasn’t after attention, but that concept might as well be in Chinese for you. You don’t evolve, just preserve, and you should probably stop with that whole “I have never had work done.” Your off-insurance doctors don’t believe in HIPPA. You probably need to look that up.

It is almost like The Secret isn’t really a business model, and the MacAir was just a trendy, early adpoters stunt (Ask Meghan and she can Google it for you). I am certain you are grateful to me to be the custodian of your memories.

Lordy, lordy, look who turned......

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 11:41:00 -0500

We’re in lean times, folks, and lean times call for ribbed, bulleted, and linked pleasures.

Our Lady of Introspection:

You know how she claims to be friends with all of her exes? Except for that one whose confidences she betrayed on Gawker. And that one who does video games who broke up with her in spectacular public fashion. And now, the most recent one who didn’t want to be subject material for the least interesting blog on the planet. Well played, Mr. Leventhal (his reply to Our Lady in response to her plea for a restaurant recommendation). She sometimes reminds you of Lara Flynn Boyle in Wayne’s World, doesn’t she?
She’s looking for a new way to violate her friends’ privacy, in the form of posting voice mails received. (“Hey, Julia, this is Ben. I swore I wasn’t ever going to call you again, but the law says I have to give you an official warning about harassment. So here it is. I’m just not that into you. You saw that movie, right? It is just like that.”)
Nonsociety is now co-branding with Axe. Live differently, like pimply junior high school boys. Because you just know that demographic is reading NS, what with the cutting edge fashion and dieting tips and the giggling mention of blow jobs.
There was a bicoastal birthday celebration, the first in SF. Sadly, although JA posted a partial pic of her cake, it wasn’t hers. Man, she can’t even make the marquee of a birthday cake? Well played, Randi. Ask Mr. Leventhal what you have won.
If only we had birthday bridesmaids, or, as the unwashed masses call them, unpaid guests.
Whatever, the important thing is that Our Lady doesn’t drink. (click on that one, folks. You won’t regret it.)

Our Handmaiden of Passive Aggression:

Did make a rather surprising Million Dollar Baby reference. I suspect that movie didn’t feature the story line she anticipated.
Leven shout out. I am thinking Mary realizes a sister hanger-on is better than this gig.
She got a new pet. This should totally put to bed her whole “I look like a dyke” comment, as clearly, some of her best friends are homosexuals.
The usual tedious Fashion Week coverage with brilliant commentary (“Ooh. I love this.”) She is a fashionista, just like the EIC of Allure. With 100% less credibility.
A ton of hair dryer reviews. To help the paint dry.
A slam on President Obama for attending a concert and a basketball game (as evidence of his vacationing ways rivaling those of her parents’ messiah, George W). This from a couchsurfer without a job. Dumber than a sack of hair extensions. Stick with the blow jobs from the hair dryers. President Obama has more work ethic in Rahm Emanuel’s middle right finger than this one. Yes, Mary. You are going to have to follow the link to get the joke.
Photoshoots aren’t work, they are vanity projects. Probably need to look that term up, too. Your entire business model is a vanity project that is unprofitable and ridiculed by your target audience. You are in no position to question anyone’s work ethic.

Our Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds:

I still contend she is working on an exit strategy. No one is this dull and bland, not even day-old Cheerios in spoiled milk. She’s caught between the loon and New York City. I know its crazy, but its true.
Uh, she posted an email with tips to save money, which included such wisdoms as go to the grocery with a list, use the library (don’t buy books), sign up on mailing lists for specials, and entertain at home with your friends. Ladies’ Home Journal now has a web presence?
Megs - may I call you Megs - take your own reader’s advice. Shop for food that you eat (not drink), go to the library and check out “What Color is Your Parachute,” sign up for a Kayak alert for cheap one way fares to the Bay Area (free tech tip there), and stay home with friends who realize that people who try to monetize the minutia of their lives are widely perceived as complete idiots.
Except in that little corner of NYC, where bloggers who spend all day blogging about their friends meet up to drink with their blogger friends in the hopes that their picture is taken, so they can post and blog about it the next day. There, you are all just common idiots.
She discovered CNN online to watch the “State of the Union,” which must surprise the President, who hasn’t yet delivered it.
She looked thrilled to be in attendance at JA’s birthday party in SF. So do the others in the picture.
Megs, only you can prevent forest fires, and only you can salvage your reputation. I’m not just saying this because I have a substantial bet on you being the first to bail. Full disclosure: I also have cash on Mary.
I gave you the most real estate here, Meghan. Don’t disappoint me.

*N.B.: The reblog feature was not abused in the parsing of the above post.

Fuck you, South Dakota.

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 19:58:00 -0500

I don’t write this for fame or fortune. I don’t give a shit who reads it, generally, This is just a bunch of folks who are like-minded about vapid attention whores. Because of the tumblr drama, I hit a few radars.

The nice guy who set this up put in a google analytics code and this morning, I actually read it. Shit - a lot of you are as bored as I am, internationally even. To those folks, I assure you that this is our weakest export, okay? What killed me was that South Dakota was the only state that didn’t register on the viewing map.

Seriously, SD, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia are killing you in terms of page views. You are the only state in the country without a page view. I mean this politely, but fuck you, South Dakota. Morocco is out-viewing you. Hell, Iceland has you at 34:0.

Do you really want to be behind Iceland? I would like to thank Illinois, who proudly represents. NY, CA and FL? Holy hell, you guys are loyal. Thanks to all of you who read this terribly uninteresting shit, and an added thank you for representing the globe. Hey, Kenya and Chile. Sorry for all this. I meant well. Us Americans cannot stand the women I parse. It is a public service, I assure you. We want to expel them somewhere else, but until then, I just parse.

Vd Day.

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 13:16:00 -0500

[Housekeeping Edit: There has been some…..activity regarding this blog. While I was sleeping, I was apparently nailed to the cross and reborn, all ahead of Easter!

Official comment - Karp and co. fucked up and realized it, probably right after JA sent a gloating email to Gawker about policing the internets (and the NYT and Slate picked up on it). I missed almost all of it - I think I knew I was banned for about 12 hours before being resurrected - but David’s response to me was solid.

First, notwithstanding the title of the blog, I don’t actually reblog Our Lady or her Handmaidens. I link to the posts I parse, but none of them have to read it unless they seek it out. Which they do. I don’t “abuse the reblog feature.” That explanation was horseshit.

Second, had my commentary been wholly positive, there would have been no issue, and that is concerning. David’s playground, David’s rules, and he is free to make them, but I was pissed because tumblr assured me last year that despite her pleadings to nuke this, they wouldn’t cave. Made no sense to me that, having tailored the message down to just very occasionally parsing their public statements, they would suddenly nuke an almost stale blog. It was a bad move, to be sure, and they corrected it and I am all the way over it. It also inspired me to post more, so chew on that back fat, Pink Lady.

Also, JA? Yeah, you sort of brought this upon tumblr and yourself. You occupy no higher road or moral purpose and you should be really regretting the gloating emails. You take no prisoners on your quest to be famous (for absolutely nothing), and while I don’t forward emails, you aren’t a friend of tumblr. You are, at your core, a user without friends. Seriously - you make this easy, and everyone now knows it. If your BFF only knew how you counted on my discretion.]

ONWARD!

I post this with the assumption that none of you are following the Days of our Banality. If you need more day to day recaps, I strongly recommend this site, which has yet to overdose on reading about the three least interesting women on the planet. It takes about six months, so get in while the getting is good. Tumblr apparently shut down their previous blog, which is weird, to say the least, but I am still (barely) here and will feed the masses who don’t really give a shit.

So onward for the big picture, “what do I need to know” about the Trio of Banality.

Handmaiden of Passive Aggression (Mary): She got a haircut, then she cut it again, somehow believing she looks like Katie Holmes. Who is an interesting role model- crazy gay husband, stalled career, etc. She also thinks dressing in black makes you Russian, whereas most folks just deem that the standard New York uniform. One day, with her first self-loathing husband, she might actually go to Russia and eat a pierogi and keep it down all night, then name a terrible bag after it that no one will buy. Then again, I am pretty sure Mary is the kind of girl who would go to Russia and eat a chicken salad (with a request for guacamole on the side) at an Applebees. But then she would post pictures of it because she PUTS IT ALL OUT THERE, HATERS.

There was some public passive aggression with JA, of course - nobody puts baby JA in a corner or a non-pink dress —but all in all, she is just posting about drinking and shopping, so you didn’t miss much. She still thinks this is unnatural, which prompted another Botox session (reminder: she is 26), but the girl is a child of a third wife, and not in the satisfying Big Love sense. In the spirit of the recession, she is homeless and couch-surfing where she can, but she has pimped herself out as inventory for a matchmaking service, so a failed marriage is in her sights.

She is currently doing Fashion Week. It is more uninteresting than you can imagine.

Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds: This one is actually getting kind of sad. Meghan now knows what a stupid move this whole venture was - it kind of drips from her Cheerios-types of posts - but she cut her hair too! Yeah, and that’s all you missed. She went to CES and didn’t post anything relevant, went to Davos and posted pictures of herself snowboarding, and came home and realized that the recession is only for those who mind the pricetags.

Meghan is kind of useless for interesting recaps, because she is criminally uninteresting and her cream doesn’t rise to the top. It sort of curdles.

Our Lady of Introspection: Exactly where we left off. She now warrants less attention than Mary, as she is just a cartoon. Like Sex and the City on Nickelodeon. The dating columnist without a date was, as usual, excited about spending Valentines Day alone (some weird plan about a bicoastal birthday celebration as well, which is bizarre, given what the tipsters say about her future at TONY). Usual highs and lows, of course, plus a lot of unfavorable accounts of her time at Davos. Truly, this was an embarrassing trip, yet our Narcissistic Lady will never understand the laughter directed at her.

Yes we can.

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 14:28:00 -0500

Our Lady of Introspection: Imagine that you get the opportunity to witness the inauguration of the 44th president, and because you once fancied yourself a journalist at a DC university, you think you have some bona fides. Your mother was a speechwriter, and because you once tactlessly blogged about shagging a politician and once met Obama at a BBQ, you think you could have been one, too. You then go to DC for the big event.

Do you (1) blog about the experience of ~~attending~~ being in the same city with the largest crowd gathering in history for a new president? (2) Parse the speech with your sound, college-level analysis of government and politics? or (3) Post a ton of pictures of yourself in yet another pink dress, sporting yet another pursed lips pose.

Yes, it was obviously choice #3. Not even an historic inauguration could dissuade our Lady from posting over 15 pictures of herself. YES WE CAN!

Our Handmaiden of Passive Aggression: Our Handmaiden wasn’t an Obama supporter - something about the proud Texas tradition of assuming your parents’ politics - but she was not above posting a few pics of her reaching across the proverbial aisle, to shake the unclenched fists of those who thought she might be able to set them up with Leven.

BUT! She caught the magic Obama rainbow hope-flu and gave us this:

We, as a nation of moral, democtaic (sic and hic) people, wouldn’t be where we are today if the leaders who had the balls to push the boundaries let themselves be silenced.

All men are created equal. That took a while. So have hope. One day, we’ll get there with the issues that continue to plague us today. Gay marriage, abortion - they will all be inherent rights. Keep talking people. In fact, yell!

You know, we will get there. Her hair went from 1960 to 1990 in the recent past, and that did take a while. YES WE CAN!

Our Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds: Kind of soggy Cheerios after the backlash from their CES coverage, claiming that she was preoccupied by filming promo spots for their “sponsors.” Unfortunately, those “sponsors” weren’t sponsors, so sayeth Cisco on their blog (“Cisco did not sponsor NonSociety”) nor compensate them for being the CES equivalent of car show models.

Specifically, she was upset that her mother “found her way” (some tech geeks call this googling) to one of the sites that had some negative comments about her, and apparently, Mom promptly responded using a “code name” (she anonymously commented on a website, just like the detractors). And say hey to you mother for me!.

They got past it, and she just marveled that “we can now use the Internet to get information from various sources.” And, just like that, Meghan’s tech savvy caught up to Mary’s new hair. YES WE CAN!

Feliz Nuevo Ano

Thu, 08 Jan 2009 16:35:00 -0500

Christ, a new year and yet, we are still here. Parsing the stupidity. It kind of feels like recapping American Idol, doesn’t it? We all know how this works out - the most packaged person wins, except they don’t, and are never heard from again until the VH-1 special about one hit wonders hits the airwaves.

Confession - I have started to love Mary. It may be Stockholm Syndrome (I write that with the confidence that she has no idea what that means and may name a terrible bag after it), but I think she finally realized that she can either be in on the joke or laugh at it. My editor has disowned me upon this realization, so forgive the grammar and spelling errors.

Okay, what do you need to know about The Trio of Banality? I’ll give you the low points, bulleted and ribbed for your pleasure:

Meghan: Still Cheerios, with a little too much sugar. Why the naturally hottest girl hasn’t found her groove yet, only Stella knows. She, like the others, is at CES, although for her, this is kind of akin to Napoleon Dynamite going to a dance competition. She is very web 1.0, but damn if she doesn’t look good blogging it.
Mary: Oh, the sweet virgin Mary. She went on a cruise, blogged about it, railed against the haters who begrudged her that moment in the sun (then retracted it), worked out and blogged about it (lest you think her slothy, or worse, fat), admitted she was dining on someone else’s dime, took a few pot shots at JA (who is clearly not tight with her own mother), then came back and vowed to “see you on the scales.” The elusive Leven didn’t make the guest list, sadly, but Mary has a nice Gwyneth haircut and a determination to best JA at her own cover game.
JA: Still nothing here. JA doesn’t play well with others, and in the trio, she comes off like the shrill Midwestern tourist, among a trio of NY fannypack fangirls. She made a laundry list of resolutions, which I suspect were plagiarized from her 2008 resolutions (she is cunning like that), posted a manifesto of “I WAS ONCE BULIMIC AND THAT IS WHY I CAN CONTINUE TO HATE MYSELF,”and clearly didn’t resolve to lose the tranny makeup or wardrobe. She called Mary a bitch, claiming that bitch blogging was noble, and thereby solidifying her role as the chick at the party that you recognize, but don’t want to be associated with. There were, of course, a host of old pics of her, from happier days, plus a few fake emails purporting to attack her on her weight. Folks, if you don’t do it, no one else will, and then she will go all James Frey on your non-commenting asses.

Merry Festivus

Wed, 17 Dec 2008 15:09:41 -0500

Given all that we have been through, I have to believe that none of you are still actually reading the collective musings of Our Lady of Introspection and her Handmaidens. They jumped the shark, the couch, and anything else they could name drop on their way to another photoshoot for another publication you have never heard of and will never buy.

Starting any personality-based business is difficult, particularly when Nick Douglas is your business advisor. Now try to imagine if you are the trio of a funhouse of mirrors featuring Poltergeist clowns. There may be a few moments of horror and funny, but mostly, you just want to put your hand over all it it and gently whisper “this will only take a few seconds.” It isn’t that they just don’t get that they are the punchline of the joke. It is that they think their punchlines have value in any economy.

In the spirit of the holidays, however, I will give you the last rites of Our Trio of Banality. The end is surely nigh, and should old acquaintances be forgot, the world would be a much better place.

Meghan: The Handmaiden of Tragic Rebounds — Meghan, I like you like I like Cheerios. There’s nothing offensive or mouth jarring about Cheerios (unlike, say, the suit-o PINKISH elements of Captain Crunch). Hell, sometimes, Cheerios is perfectly fine on an early morning.

But Meghan? You are curiously outplayed by your underclasswomen. This was a bad idea. You know it, I know it, and your family, readers and future employers know it. Look, you are no rocket scientist in the tech OR finance fields, but you are likable and pretty and don’t look like a tranny Midwestern news anchor on camera. In your newly chosen field, I think you have to score these in the win column and discover your own identity, preferably one that doesn’t involve the social climbing aims of a self-avowed attention whore or a waiting in the wings second Texas trophy wife. They are in your spelling league, and that is about it.

Mary: The Handmaiden of Passive Aggression— Mary, you surprised me as the almost likable one of the group. Your willingness to make a complete ass out of yourself - albeit unwittingly - combined with your obvious recognition of the ridiculousness of the Julia Allison character? Hell, I almost want to buy you a lip shot.

You wear your superficialness on your sleeve, and I am confident that your first gay husband will really appreciate that. You have been playing second fiddle for so long, what with the “she’s not my sister” crap with Leven, to indulging the ridiculously emotionally challenged Lady of Introspection. The seething is palpable.

I am guessing it is fed by the hunger that can only come from a self-proclaimed fitness guru who thinks people should eat the bulk of their meals at night, combined with all that fucking juice. Shit gets backed up, you know? I know you know. Spinning your bitterness for hours a day, knowing your arms are toner and you are taller, and yet, but for all your lack of intellect and any appealing qualities to men who actually want to sleep with women? It is a bitter pill, Mary, and I fully support you swallowing all of them.

Julia: Our Lady of Introspection— Oh Christ, there is so much and yet nothing to say. Predictably, she now wants to go to business school at Harvard or Stanford, and realistically? She will probably get in, notwithstanding her grasp of anything business-related. She ”owns a company” that is predicated on readers who don’t admire her, but still read her because she is a real time, virtual trainwreck of social skills and common sense, and the paradigm of an unlikable human being. And who wouldn’t want such a person shilling their products? Care for some juice?

She recently solicited input about what men like in body types, and it was not unlike imagining a NAMBLA post about just which boys the members found the most desirable. If nonsociety.com isn’t on the pro-anorexia circuits by now, those readers just haven’t graduated high school yet. You aren’t fat, JA. No one but you thinks you are. But I suspect you will keep blaming that for the string of failed relationships in your rear view window. It couldn’t possibly be owing to that vast wasteland underneath that tiny perceived layer of fat.

She also got dumped, again, and AGAIN, it was on her own merits, not blogging related. Such a successful dating columnist this one, but lest you worry, she posted endless photos of herself in happier times, and even managed to take a few digs at the parents of the exes who didn’t like her. Presumably after tipping Gawker. Hard to believe no one wants to take her home to meet Mom.

All in all, you missed nothing, and if you are still reading this trio, you have the patience of steel wool. Add this lumpy coal to your mix, add tomato juice and a celery stalk, and you have yourself a very Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, and happy New Year.

Fall update.

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 12:44:17 -0400

Christ, it has been way too long and yet not nearly long enough.

Since we last parsed, a few issues of national importance have taken center stage. A presidential election, hurricanes in the South, and a near collapse on Wall Street. Naturally, you would expect that Our Lady of Introspection, a Georgetown poli sci grad (and newly self-described reporter) would be all over the elections, while Our Lady of Passive Aggression, a Houston native, would be talking about the devastation to her hometown, and Our Lady of Wretched Rebounds, an alumnus of Wall Street, would be angling to cover the demise of a venerable investment bank.

Alas, and of course, you would be wrong. The only cameras and stories they are interested in are the ones that bold face their names. I can’t scroll through all of it, but here’s what the most persistent attention whores of the current web 2.0 generation are crowing about:

Our Lady Of Passive Aggression (Mary):

She took a ton of crappy iPhone pictures of runway shows, adding commentary such as “this is a bold new look,” and slagged on other designers in only the way a girl who designed a fanny pack for the wrist could do. The only people who should take fashion advice from this girl are the same people who think Our Lady of Introspection is a competent dating columnist.
But! The return of Leven. You kind of have to love the body language here. I wonder if Leven explained to Mary the business of having an actual television deal. I am thinking not. Welcome back, Leven. Mind the social climbing sister if you can.

Our Lady of Wretched Rebounds (Meghan):

What does this veteran of Wall Street have to say about the current crisis? “it’s hard to comprehend what all this means for the financial market. UGH!!!!! ” That’s deep, yo. You can see where she earned the money to buy herself a condo.

Our Lady of Introspection (JA):

Christ, there was seriously nothing there. The requisite pictues of her pursing her lips like a dog’s ass, dropping names like most folks drop bills on drinks, and generally being manic about whatever photoshoot she is doing for a magazine you have never heard of.
All I have is this: she now considers herself a journalist. One without any education or insight about the difference between editorial and sales.
You know what’s funny? No one wants to advertise openly on the site. Maybe the girls get paid for all of their ‘recommendations,’ but no company wants to align themselves openly with them.
Oh, and while I am at it? Yeah, there was never an inked Bravo deal, as evidenced by the fact that Bravo’s team has been trying to figure out how to deal with a pathological liar. At least, according to over a half dozen of my tipsters. Confidential to JA: A first look deal that you are self-producing does not a reality show make. Particularly when the test audiences come back with “utterly unlikable.” God, you must be so overworked.

All in quotes.

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 00:55:35 -0400

Quick and dirty, like my martini:

Behold the value of a political science degree at Georgetown: “I think Joe Biden’s nephew is a douche, ergo, I am irritated by Biden as VP.” You would think someone who also fucks and tells about political figures would have a better insight into the demographic in which she lived her college years. Then again, if anyone has read anything she has written about New York, they would know better.
If, at first, your “new” blog doesn’t take off, recycle old blog posts and create fake drama! This is kind of like the “e-mail” you posted from a “reader” who said you were fat. Except that the email address you posted for that one is quite well known along the ‘nets as one of your alternates for “tipping” people about you! Hell, you used it to tip me!
You should ask Meghan about disguising email addresses - maybe even that new thing, gmail. When she is done researching the hot new item, the Roomba. That Megs, huh? Always on the cusp of innovation. Such a geek.
Just a question…the voice you use in your “responses” sounds almost exactly like the voice of the e-mail seeking advice. Slow news day?
You think it is possible that someone in your “inner circle” is tipping me?

Photo

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 21:58:59 -0400

This is a gentle reminder that my services on the internet are...

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 21:18:50 -0400

This is a gentle reminder that my services on the internet are no longer needed. I only use the words - this is pure perfection. A couple of highlights?

The mustache on Mary. And the nip slips.
The brows on James Del, and how good he looks in drag. Love the chest hair. Singular.
Blakeley’s long, pained sigh.
The tear. The laughing bray.
The crossed eyes. And the inability to check email.
The lip dub.
The credits. Goddamn, but McGlynn is hot.
The overall - perfection.

This is better than anything I can write.

Dear Frangry: I love you just as much and have something special planned for Monday. Best to you...

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 22:10:49 -0400

Dear Frangry:

I love you just as much and have something special planned for Monday.

Best to you and Moss,

baugher

frangry:

Dear Nonsociety.net,

Please stop trying be Baugher. You are nowhere near as clever.

xo,
Frangry

First course.

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 10:42:00 -0400

You know how most restaurant critics don’t review a new place in the first few months, preferring instead to give the joint some time to work out the kinks? Yeah, I am not Frank Bruni, and although Our Lady of Introspection does share a victim complex and a bloated sense of self-importance with Jeffrey Chodorow, she doesn’t have his talent or skill. What she does have? Is a manic amount of content to parse. Onward! With bullets!

Nonevent. It takes a specialbrand of visionary to launch a website in the deadest traffic time of the year with stale, unfunny reruns that are positively archaic by web measurements. Our Banality Trio are such visionaries and even had the original idea to aggregate their musings to better enable the homewrecking stalkers.
Let us revisit the cast of characters, shall we? I have taken the liberty of editing their woefully inadequate bios to further open the “window” into the “crazy lives” of the three women who will go to the opening of an email.
Meghan: aka the Handmaiden of Wretched Rebounds. The tech heiress bounced from a failed romantic relationship to possibly the worst substitute imaginable, despite the pleadings of her friends and family. As the only one of the Banality Trio who has actually held a professional job, and is also the only one who is prospectively employable, I suspect Meghan hopes she can parlay this embarrassing lapse in judgment into a career of bright, toothy soundbytes on late night cable television, playing tech geek to the insomniacs who still believe that a girl who wears a geek shirt likes geeks.
Mary: aka the Handmaiden of Passive Aggression. She is all too familiar with playing second fiddle and you get the sense that she isn’t going to take it much longer. As the much older (and taller and thinner) stepsister to an inexplicably teflon Lolita named Leven, Mary has only a failed reality show and dreadfully tacky handbags to show for her certain superiority. Unemployable for lack of work ethic, skill set, and an abiding desire to become a suitable first trophy wife, Mary has hitched her man-hunting wagon to Our Lady’s HUMMER of unfounded self promotion. While her past ‘success’ with the wrist fannypack might be enough to land a caddy from River Oaks, Mary is striving to become the woman for whom the golf pro leaves his wife. Aim high, Mac.
Say, how is Leven? Give her my best, will you?
Julia: aka Our Lady of Introspection. The indefatigable ringleader of the Banality Trio. Believes that sitting for hair and makeup is hard work, that said hair and makeup should in no event be removed, and that she should be paid for being her. A former talking head for a supermarket tabloid that claims she ‘never had an interest in talking about celebrities’, and a current dating columnist who is afraid of sex,it only makes sense that she finally throw caution to the wind and talk a little about herself. Utterly unemployable (google gives you (1) getting fingerbanged at Balthazar; (2) revealing confidences; and (3) plagiarism), JA is positioning herself to play her favorite role - the (attention) whore with a heart of gold. A real-life Barbie doll, complete with a pink tutu, tits and hermetically sealed genitals.

Christ, and there is the whole Wired article to parse, and a tipster who has given full permission to share the information with the class.

Also: brilliant. You ever get the sense Our Lady can’t sleep at night? It is almost like she exists solely on the internet.

The Mysterious Parsing Noise

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 09:32:05 -0400

I think your long term plan is brilliant, but you didn’t answer my direct question. Also, until Alex Balk gets on the Khmer Rouge beat (and I think he is still on Zimbabwe) I don’t think it is going to get on my radar, if you know what I am saying.

dearconbon:

Dear Conbon,
I am the author of a modestly well-received blog that parsed the manic amount of content generated by a certain aspiring NY media celebrity. After a while, I became bored senseless with my subject, she started using my parsings for publicity, and, in any event, the point was more than made. The subject at issue slinked to the twittering corner of the internet, and since the world abhors a twitterer, she stayed far off my radar.

Now, however, she is back like a persistent herpes hydra strain and infecting my enjoyment of the great digital superhighway. Worse, I have vital informatiuon from a reliable tipster that she is full of shit, yet again, employing the Denton school of “if you talk enough about it, they maybe will come?”

Back in my regular parsing days, when I started to question what kind of person would willingly sift through that kind of banality for a few laughs, I was assured that it was something of a public service for the internet at large. Now, it just seems like tackling the latest wave of shameless attention whoring and public bullshit would be redundant and opening a whole other can of worms and extending a weave of senseless hair extensions. On the other hand, there is something kind of noble about affecting the trajectory of a shameless fameball.

Should I parse the latest round of bullshit, or just let the fameballs land where they may?

Best to you and yours,
baugher

Dear baugher,

I have thought long and hard about your query. I tried many different methods of reflection in order to arrive at the best possible answer. I made a sweat hut out of Wired backissues. I went on a vision quest to Silicon Alley. (This consisted of me getting drunk, stepping out into traffic in front of IAC and almost getting killed by an oncoming delivery truck.) Finally, I discovered the root of the problem. Someone, talented with coding, needs to write an html script. This script should search out every instance of this “aspiring NY media celebrity” on the entire web, like a giant, black-widow-with-a-rocket-launcher version of Google’s webcrawler. Once this unstoppable fucking badass script finds a picture, video, or mention of the subject of your parsing; it should replace that instance with this:

Until such a script is invented, find something more interesting and entertaining to parse. For instance, comedic theater of the Khmer Rouge.

Once more with feeling.

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 13:58:00 -0400

Christ, it has been a while and not nearly long enough. The hypothesis of the experiment proved to be remarkably accurate. The credit is yours, baugher nation. For old times’ sake, let’s take a look at some of the topics we have missed over the past few months, bulleted and ribbed for your pleasure.

Sex and the City: My favorite part of this bout of staged inanity was that I couldn’t help but wonder which one of them actually had a job, boyfriend, or any sense of boundaries between private and public that in any way resembled their dream show. I think they all missed that nuance of SATC - it was never about self promotion or attention whoring. It was kind of dumb, and they certainly picked up on that and ran with it, but it was never about being famous for having no talent.
“That’s where Sex and the City’s consumer romance culture stopped being cute and started being a little, well, sad”. You know what? I couldn’t agree more.
Also, phoning it in much? (and rewriting history in your free time?) She said she would rather get shoes than a date. That isn’t a manifesto on cheap dating, Pink Lady. That is saying you would rather have the object of your ambition buy you something, rather than share a meal with him. It is almost as if you need someone to be the custodian of your memories.
Might want to give those columns a little more effort, seeing as how she lost the Star Magazine gig. But she absolutely, positively wasn’t fired. Except she was. It’s like when she read Tori Spelling’s book on the plane, while she was sleeping. I won’t call her a liar, since that causes family disownment, so let’s just say Twitter is her custodian!
While we are on the subject of lies, lost jobs and new ventures, refusing a direct quote in an IM chat is not exactly the same as honoring a nondisclosure agreement, or, you know, exercising common discretion. I guess it really isn’t surprising that she needed this pointed out. Again.
But! There is an online show coming! Not a reality show, of course, as unlikable and grating aren’t desirable buzzwords for television, but luckily, there is a shit ton of evergreen content. Memo to Our Lady of Introspection: when you upload things to the internet? The internet acts as your custodian! You see how that works? You might want to ask Meghan about all of that. It is really complicated and I hear she is the tech brains of your operation.

30 second recap? Meghan was in charge of releasing the topless shots, Mary has something up her ass, and Our Lady of Introspection is just really, really happy about her career right now.

Final note: never have three unemployed people blogged so much about being overworked.