On the hunger

Have you ever lost the hunger? You seem like someone who consumes everything and delights in it all. But have you ever lost it, for even a period of time? If so, how did you get it back? Is the hunger of discovery and experience something that can be taught or practiced without being born with it?

I lose the hunger all the time. Right now, for instance. August left my body sore and my soul polluted. I’m spiritually exhausted, and the strength it takes to recover borrows from the hunger.

It’s not all that unpleasant. It’s not much of anything really, a sort of constant state of anhedonia. Nothing tastes. Nothing touches. Words come out of me, but I don’t recognize them. I’m just here, making a bunch of gestures and signs, interacting with a world I can’t feel.

It’s okay, though. I’ve done this many times. I’m comfortable with the ebb and flow of my emotional well-being. It’s a delicate sine wave, the amplitude and frequency of which I’ve learned to observe from a distance without needing to control it in the moment.

I have enough perspective to recognize the balance. I know better than to course correct with chemicals or consumerism. I don’t wanna fuck up my curve, because I know the hunger comes back.

It’s not up to me, but it always comes back. The trick is in giving up that control, in fully accepting that it’s not up to me, in knowing that nothing is or ever was up to me in the first place, and that it’s all gonna be okay, even if it’s not.

I’ll let you know when I’m hungry again.

On being easy

Some advice: if you fuck on the first-date, he probably won’t come back for a second. If the sex was hot and he does come back enjoy becoming fuck-buddies, because by fucking on the first-date, you’ve essentially told him by your actions: “I’m easy and definitely not the type of girl you’ll be wanting to take-home or marry, because anyone who I find attractive and who picks up the bill, I’ll let fuck me.”

I’m glad that you read my twitter, and I can appreciate the brass balls it takes to offer someone like me unsolicited advice, but honey, not only are you in way over your head, you’re also wrong about life.

I fuck who I fuck when I fuck because I wanna fuck, and I don’t give a flying fuck whether the people I fuck think I’m the marrying type. That doesn’t make me easy. That makes me hard.

I am the one in command of my own sexual virtue. I am the one who defines that virtue. No one else gets a say in it — not you, not the world, and certainly not some guy I allowed the privilege of fucking me on the first date.

Everything you believe to be true about sexual virtue is a tragic lie instilled in you by a misogynistic, patriarchal culture that is fundamentally terrified of female sexuality, and that bullshit needs to be systematically unlearned. I’d feel sorry for you if you weren’t making yourself part of the problem by spreading around this kind of ignorant, regressive poison.

On knowing when it’s over

My boyfriend of a 7 year rocky relationship has given me a horrible ultimatum. He is choosing to not accompany me to a concert for financial, transportation and probably personality issues. If I choose to go without him, he moves out. What do I do?

This isn’t a real ultimatum, because the relationship is already over. It ended some time ago, but neither of you are ready to formally acknowledge it yet.

He’s too much of a pussy to just break up with you, and this lame attempt at manipulation is his way of trying to force your hand.

This isn’t about some stupid concert. Fuck that shit. It doesn’t matter whether you go, but whatever else happens, know that it’s over and that your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend should start moving out right away.

On fun-sized advice

I just graduated from a top college with no debt, a bit of money saved, no boyfriend, and no ties to any city. What would you do?
Have a cookie, and then go get a fucking job.

Is it wrong or inappropriate of me to ask someone I’m dating to get an std check before having sex with them?
There’s nothing wrong with asking, but it does require some tact.

It seems that the general consensus is that if someone cheats on you, they don’t love you. But isn’t the real problem that they don’t respect you?
You’re assuming that the cheating has anything to do with you in the first place. It might, of course, but the real problem with cheaters isn’t in whether they love or respect you. The real problem is in the fact that they are untrustworthy and don’t have any integrity.

What’s your favorite Bible passage to roll up in a quick joint?
Revelation 18:9, although pretty much anything from Revelations will do.

I feel fairly certain my boyfriend is fucking his male best friend. I know it sounds crazy… which is why I really can’t say it out loud. What do I do?
It doesn’t sound crazy. Gather what evidence you have, and calmly ask him whether he’s ever had any sexual contact with his friend. Regardless of the answer, be prepared for your relationship to end.

In your post “On black market economics,” you said that “you write with an Australian accent. I can almost hear this guy mansplaining.” Just curious to know if you think that Australian men mansplain more than others. This is coming from an Australian woman, concerned that she’s tolerating more mansplaining than she should because she’s normalised so much of it.
I’m not sure whether Australian men mansplain more, but drunk men certainly do, so that’s probably the correlation.

What is it about Burning Man that makes me so fucking angry?
I dunno. Maybe it’s the fundamental bourgeois hypocrisy of all that privileged self-indulgence. Maybe it’s the insufferable faux-counterculture aesthetic. Then again, maybe you’re just angry because you don’t understand it. Maybe you should find a way to go next year. Maybe you’ll figure it all out on the Playa.

On a real asshole

Assholes have to come from somewhere. And its well known that American women, especially, have a preference for Alphas and Betas who, in our dog-eat-dog, laissez-faire socio-economic climate, are naturally and neccesarily Assholes. They in turn have kids that turn out to be, you guessed it, assholes. If women were to be less alpha-seeking there would in turn be fewer assholes. If they were to be more alpha-seeking there would in turn be more assholes. Direct correlation and causation. That “misogynist hate speech” Is true whether you like it or not.

You submitted this ignorant turd of a response twenty-three times in a row. Hell, you were still submitting it as I posted this. Do you have any idea how fucking creepy that is? Ugh. You’re a creepy creeping creep. Know that about yourself.

You’re also just plain wrong, and you don’t get to claim that your misogynistic point of view is well known. In fact, whenever you feel the self-satisfied urge to use the phrase “it’s well known,” just substitute the phrase “creeps believe” so that at least you’ll be telling the truth.

Now, as for what you creeps believe, please just stop. You’re wrong, not just on the face of things, but deep down to the core of your very being. You’re wrong at such a fundamental level, that even bothering to pick apart the wrongness of your conclusions is a waste of everyone’s fucking time.

Your argument is a jumble of failed logic and self-righteous frustration that hinges on the ridiculous notion that being an asshole is some kind of hereditary taxonomic distinction. It’s not.

For instance, you’re an asshole. Where did you come from? Is it because your mother had a preference for alphas? (Alpha and beta are ethological terms that none of you idiots ever use properly, by the way.) No, you’re not an asshole because your mother has a preference for alphas. That’s insane. You’re an asshole because you walk around with a sense of entitlement with regard to women, and when women don’t treat you how you feel you deserve to be treated, you blame everyone except the loser in the mirror.

You wanna know where real assholes come from? Real assholes are the end result of misogynistic belief systems like the one you so desperately need to be true. Real assholes are the ones who think they’re the put-upon “nice guys” who never realize how fundamentally disrespectful they are to women. Real assholes listen to the absurd rantings of uber-assholes like Stefan Molyneux and then use his angry shit-stack of pseudo-sociological nonsense to try and justify all their simmering narcissistic rage.

You, sir, are a real asshole.

On misogynistic hate speech

Stefan Molyneux, a Canadian philosopher, says that the reason there are so many assholes in this world is because women keep procreating with assholes. He says if women chose better men, the world would be a better place. I’m offended by this theory, and I’m amazed at the following he has garnered given that all his other ideas are whack too. I suck at arguing, and was wondering what you would have to say about a theory like that.

Please don’t give Stefan Molyneux credibility by calling him a philosopher. He’s more of a wannabe cult leader, a sort of fraudulent pseudo-philosopher with poisonous ideas for weak-minded libertarian narcissists.

Of course, Molyneux’s ideas are also violently misogynistic. In fact, I would classify a good portion of Molyneux’s rantings as overt hate speech. He’s a repulsive and angry little man who suffers from a particularly virulent strain of Nice Guy Syndrome, and his toxic ideas aren’t even worthy of a response.

If you’re in the mood for an impassioned rebuttal to Molyneax’s disgusting remarks, watch this YouTube video by Matt Binder and Michael Brooks.

On being terminated

omg. I tried to come to your website earlier and it said the page didn’t exist. almost lost my mind.

I know how you feel. After yesterday’s termination incident, I’ve taken out an insurance policy by creating a completely separate tumblr account called Kill Coke Talk where I’ve duplicated my various themes and general data structure, including Dear Coquette.

It’s sort of the blogging equivalent of a FEMA trailer, where if my original account is ever terminated permanently, I’ll be able to flip a few switches and at least have a digital roof over my head.

Hopefully I’ll never have to use it, but everyone should go ahead and follow Kill Coke Talk. If anything ever happens to my original account, that’s where you’ll be able to find me.

Thanks so much!

On black market economics

I was having a chat with a dear old friend today about the legalisation of drugs. While I am pro-legalisation, he doesn’t believe ANY drugs (even cannabis) should be legalised. His reasons are as follows:

During the 1920s or whatever when alcohol was made illegal, it was so completely illogical that people (read: dodgy gangsters and shit) immediately set up complex systems to smuggle and create it. When alcohol was again legalised, the framework for organised crime was in place; just not any actual crime- and it was through this that both drug and arm smuggling became a much bigger issue. His point is that, when you then legalise cocaine/ heroin/ meth/ pot, the people that make these drugs or smuggle them into the country aren’t going to suddenly turn straight and start being legal drug dealers- they’re going to start shit like arms smuggling and people smuggling, which fucks shit up a whole lot worse than a little bit of mind fuckery.

I was just wondering whether you think this is a legitimate issue with the legalisation of drugs, or just some shielded conservative bullshit to hide his own issues?
Thx bby.

Wow. You actually write with an Australian accent. I can almost hear this guy mansplaining his dumbfuck anti-legalization argument to you over schooners at the pub. I fucking love that.

Unfortunately, the only thing your dear old friend understands less than criminality is basic fucking economics.

First of all, he’s wrong about his underlying premise. As black markets shift from grey to white, the organizations involved really do turn straight and go legal. It proved true after America’s prohibition experiment, and it’s proving true again as we slowly decriminalize marijuana across the western world. Dodgy gangsters are more than happy to become legitimate businessmen. (As if there’s really much of a difference to begin with.)

Secondly, your friend is confusing the criminal underworld’s various command hierarchies with its supply chain logistics. Black markets aren’t a zero-sum game, and the “framework” for organized crime isn’t a rigid thing. It’s not as though with fewer drugs to smuggle, suddenly there’s more room in the cargo hold for guns and Eastern European women. That’s just not how it works.

Your friend is also forgetting the other side of the criminal equation: An obscene amount of law enforcement resources are wasted on the drug war. If those same resources were suddenly freed up to deal with illicit arms dealers and human traffickers, the world would be a much better place.

I’m sorry, but your friend is completely full of shit. Please tell him I said so. His only valid point is that prohibition is illogical. Whether it’s alcohol or any other kind of drug, prohibition in a supposedly free society is nothing more than a grotesque means of social control, and it’s ultimately doomed to fail.

On a sheltered twit

Recently there’s been fat-positive media popping up and I really think it’s great! The problem is that it’s been provoking conflicting feelings in me with the whole “skinny-shaming” trend, like in Meghan Trainor’s All About That Bass.

I get really uncomfortable when it gets to the parts in the song where they talk about skinny bitches, since it’s not portrayed positively at all. I really want to like it, but it just makes me really uneasy.

And that’s the whole point, no? I’m feeling uneasy because, for the first time of my life, I’m being confronted with a privilege I have that is problematic. So how do I get over this self-centered view of the whole thing and embrace the fat-positive results that are taking place thanks to it?

Are you seriously writing to me about your mild emotional discomfort with some piece of shit novelty track that panders to the fat acceptance trend?

Your problem is that you really want to like that painfully awful song? Is this honestly what you just brought to my door? Ugh, you sheltered fucking twit.

Your problem isn’t that you’re privileged. (Though clearly you are.) Your problem is that you’re made entirely of soft candy, and you have objectively horrible taste in the kind of pop culture ephemera you choose to consume.

I’d tell you to go get some real problems, but that would be cruel and pointless, because the worst thing that’s ever happened to you is bad cell phone reception, and you aren’t ready for any kind of advice that couldn’t be communicated with emoji.

For now, please just start listening to better music, and rest assured that the concept of “skinny shaming” belongs in the same pile of imaginary bullshit as cisphobia, misandry, and reverse racism.

On more fun-sized advice

what can i tell my friend when she says emotions are a form of weakness?
Tell your friend that pain and vulnerability are not the same thing as weakness.

Why do I want him to want me when I’m not even sure if I want him?
You don’t have to want the boy to still want the validation.

How do I quit torturing myself over things I’ve said/whether I’ve offended anyone after every night out? It’s fucking with my zen mode big time.
Oh, fuck off. You don’t have a zen mode, and you torture yourself because you like the way it feels. You’d rather labor under the false impression that you might have offended someone than accept the fact that nobody gives a shit.

How would you define the difference between literary and commercial/genre fiction? I’ve only found either old-fashioned answers or “I’ll know it when I see it” stuff.
There is no difference. Good writing is good writing. The distinction between literature and paraliterature is nothing more than cultural politics at the intersection of art and commerce.

I’m an academic. When a fellow academic says, “Hey, I’d love to talk about your research over coffee”, and when you agree to said coffee, and said coffee is then reconfigured as a dinner that he’s paying for… you’ve just been duped into a date, right?
If you think his intentions are something other than professional, feel free to cancel, but two colleagues discussing research over dinner isn’t a date. It’s business. You haven’t been duped unless he tries to get too personal or makes some kind of romantic overture. If that happens (or if you think it’s going to happen), just put him in his place.

Why do white males always have to make everything about them?
Because everything has always been about them.

I nominate you for the ice bucket challenge.
Go fuck yourself.

How you gonna leave us hanging on VMA night !?
I’m sorry, but I can’t even pretend to give a shit about live tweeting award show nonsense right now.

Do you believe Beyonce is a feminist?
Really? Really?