I Have No Idea.

Karl Marx, drunk.


I sat down to write, I had very little time, and this came out. I only wrote 1,000 words today (I'm going to write 3,000 tomorrow), and it turned into something really weird that I couldn't quite control. This is probably really stupid, and I'm sorry to those humans with eyes who read this.

“I’m quite looking forward to the Globetrotting Gurlz presentation this afternoon. I’m sure I’m not the only one who is eager to hear what your plans are for the upcoming year,” Bigsley said.

“Oh, I think you know that isn’t exactly true, Todd,” Olivia said in a tone that is probably inappropriate to take with an employer. But, they had become something of friends in recent weeks, and this type of candor was not completely offside between the pair. “Even though there’s a fashion magazine that has hideous fashion spreads and no one seems to notice, and a mother’s magazine whose main demographic is sad women whose only identity is that of being a mother, we are still considered the dumb ones around here. But is it really a coincidence that magazines that cater to women’s interests are thought to be the most lacking in intelligence?”

“I don’t know about that,” he responded shakily, as he was obviously unused to being talked to in this way at all, let alone by a woman and an employee.

“I do,” Darcy interjected. “She’s right. But can you blame others for underestimating the readers—and sadly, the writers—at a magazine that has an ‘embarrassing moments’ section that invariably involves someone’s crush and a wayward tampon?”

While hearing Darcy say the word “crush” was obviously a thrill for Olivia, her blood was starting to boil.

“Thank you for your honesty, Henry, but I am going to have to disagree with you on that point. Everything associated with femininity is constantly derided and trivialized, and women—young women, in particular—are given that same treatment when they display a conventional femininity. First, is it surprising at all that many women have such low expectations for themselves, when no one else seems to think they are capable of anything more than picking out the right shade of nail polish? And additionally, why is it fair to criticize girls for talking about love or funny things that happen in their lives, yet men who read and write for sports magazines are almost never thought to be dumb and worthless? What is the difference between those two things? Why is one pursuit worthy, while the other is not? Why isn’t anyone laughing about how dumb all those jocks are over at the Through The Five Hole table? It’s an unfair standard, but everyone is just too wrapped up in biological essentialism to see it.”

Olivia, when met with several shocked faces, knew that she had probably gone too far. Probably, or, you know, definitely. She was going to miss gainful employment.

“Well, what would you have the magazine do in order to carry out your vision for women’s empowerment?” Darcy asked.

“Well, I would start with not underestimating the readership. They really are capable of rational and intelligent thought when given the opportunity. I’m afraid that articles on the best kinds of moisturizers for different climates don’t exactly give their minds the opportunity to test themselves out on the open road.”

“You know exactly why we need to put in those articles,” Darcy articulated. “You seem like an intelligent person, you know how publishing and advertising work. Companies want to be featured in magazines that create a hospitable climate for their product. I’m afraid that you are unable to create a friendly climate for anything, as would any magazine that would align with your vision.”

“Well, at least you’re being honest about how it’s all profit-driven. Globetrotting Gurlz is far from your only magazine that is guilty of that, though. What about Globetrotting? Do you think that no one notices that you are constantly recommending one thousand dollar per night hotels in locales where the locals don’t make that much money in a year? Where pretentious writers write about their experiences with the “natives” that are borderline, if not completely, racist? This is capitalism, Darcy, and we at Darcy Publishing are all happily pushing it along. Some of us are just more up-front about it, that’s all. Globetrotting Gurlz may be about conspicuous consumption, but Globetrotting is all about creating convenient escapes for the very people who are the driving force of capitalism. They push themselves further and further up by keeping others down—destroying the proletariat must get tiring, though, so once in a while they have to take a break and go on an extremely pricey and exclusive vacation. But doesn’t it make for a nice little trip, to go and visit the places that they have destroyed with their greed? Aren’t the natives so friendly there?”

“Olivia, shut up!” Ellie said urgently.

“Don’t worry, Ellie, we’ve all read Marx,” Darcy dismissed Ellie’s concerns.

“I haven’t,” Bigsley said, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“I recommend it,” said Darcy. “But it seems as if Olivia here could recite the Communist Manifesto for us word for word, from memory. We’re all very impressed, yes, but can I ask—what’s your point? Do you expect me to start the revolution and bring about the fall of capitalism?”

“Well, if you had read the Communist Manifesto correctly, you would know that it will not be the capitalists, nor will it be the intellectuals, who bring about the revolution. It will not come from above; it must come from below. With a more careful reading, you would have known that I expect nothing of the kind.”

Darcy’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes looked somewhat menacing, if not deranged.

“My point,” Olivia pushed on, “ is that you, and everyone here, has no right to look down on us at Globetrotting Gurlz. You aren’t nearly as noble as you think you are.”