OMG DIABLO CODY USED TO STRIP: And Other Totally Newsworthy News

By Ccandysarao

Heads up, everyone: it’s cool to like Diablo Cody again.

Diablo has, of late, been suffering from Hipster Appreciation Syndrome, the phenomenon whereby pretentious idiots with great hair systematically value or devalue everything in proportion to its popularity.

For those unfamiliar with the process, it goes as follows:

1. Cool people like something.

2. So uncool people like the same thing.

3. So cool people hate that thing.

4. So uncool people hate the same thing.

5. So cool people like it again.

This is the reason why you will occasionally stumble into a crowd of hard-ass punks discussing, with great enthusiasm, the musical genius of Rod Stewart. Rod Stewart is like the hipster holy land. Ain’t no-one going to get behind that cover of “Downtown Train” unless they’ve been thoroughly indoctrinated.

Anyway, in Diablo Cody’s case, the process began with a whole lot of people liking her movie “Juno,” peaked with an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, twisted into a slew of anti-Diablo blog posts and parodies, and peaked once more with a sketch on Saturday Night Live, in which Ellen Page (who is still sort of hip for now) must renounce Cody, in the form of a dragged-up Andy Samberg who only speaks in puns.

I may be ahead of the curve in terms of predicting renewed Cody appreciation. But, really, is there anything less cool than Saturday Night Live? If hating her is already this popular, then taking a pro-DC stance will probably be provocative and stylish by next Friday.

The most interesting thing about the Diablo Cody backlash is the undercurrent of misogyny that it’s exposed in the cool crowd. Every single parody, blog post or article mentions that she used to strip, with the underlying implication that no serious writer or artist could ever be involved in the sex industry (Sucks to be you, Jean Genet! Be gone with you, Kathleen Hanna!).

This would be a lot more damaging had Cody not openly blogged about her former profession, then written a memoir about it. The same goes for those allegedly scandalous topless pictures. “It’s not everyday you see an Oscar-winning screenwriter naked, which is probably a good thing” quipped Egotastic, which is funny because – tee hee! – women don’t win awards for writing very often.

But as it turns out, these dirty secret career-destroying pictures came from Cody’s very own blog. Again, boys, the key to shaming a woman is to focus on something she’s actually ashamed of. If she doesn’t buy into your guilt trip, it’s not going to work.

I expect this kind of anti-girl, anti-sex, slut-bashing attitude from 40-year-old investment bankers and soccer moms. When it comes from allegedly forward-thinking, indie-rock-listening, Obama-voting young folks, I’m – well, “surprised” isn’t quite the word. I just experience a familiar dull thud of disappointment, the sort of thing I always feel when I realize that “counterculture” doesn’t really “counter” all that much, and that you can’t escape the messed-up-ness of the world by changing your hairstyle and buying some new records.

The most intelligent critiques of Diablo Cody tend to focus on her stylized dialogue. I admit that the barrage of zingers in the first act of “Juno” does wear thin. But, again, she’s being criticized for a trait that often garners male screenwriters admiration. Unless I missed something, “Being John Malkovich,” “Rushmore,” and “Pulp Fiction” were not masterpieces of cinematic realism, and the characters therein didn’t speak like anyone I’ve ever met. I can’t for the life of me understand why “Juno” is not afforded at least the same respect that people give to Napoleon goddamn Dynamite. Neither deserves an Oscar, but if I had to choose between the two, “Juno” is the movie I’d prefer to watch a second time.

So, yes: I’m bringing Cody back. Feel free to disagree with me. In fact, feel free to like what you like, period, without worrying about who else might like it and how many of them there might be.

Because, to be honest, I’m tired of listening to your Rod Stewart albums.