Maggie Goes On A Diet is exactly what it sounds like. A book about a chubby young girl that goes on a diet.
I'm not very interested in talking a lot about the book. I mean, I think the book is ridiculous because it portrays a fat, insecure "loser" who diets and then becomes successful and "popular." She develops a positive self image because she's thin now. Isn't that nice? Because only thin and/or attractive people are allowed to feel good about themselves, darn it! Everyone knows that.
Any parent who buys this book for their child - weight problem or no weight problem - are assholes. Enough about that. Whoever the d'bag who wrote it is has gotten enough free press.
What this blog is about is fat hate, which is what I believe the author of Maggie Goes On A Diet suffers from. Now, I know what you're thinking. I'm fat, so I'm angry at the world. Blah, blah, blah. You're right. I'm fat. I often suffer from extreme bouts of "angry at the world," but that has nothing to do with me being fat. It has to do with people not knowing how to drive, behave, control their kids, chew with their mouths closed, etc.
I take no issue with (most) people who hate fat people. I say most because I think fat hate has two categories. Let's call them normal fat hate and abnormal fat hate.
Normal Fat Hate
Normal Fat Hate is just normal folks who hate fat people. They really don't like looking at fat people. They make fun of fat people. We gross them out. It's totally cool. They are well within their rights to not like something. Normal Fat Haters don't obsess. They don't sit at home and hate fat people. They see one in the wild, they laugh and they move on. Those with NFH won't befriend fatties, but they might acquaint themselves at a distance. You know, a friend-of-a-friend is friends with a fatty who ends up at the restaurant with you. Six Degrees of Fatty Separation. Normal Fat Haters can deal. They might not love it, but they deal.
For the record, some things I hate: kids, cheese, bible-thumpers, Tom Brady, bigots, democrats and fat people who drink diet coke.
Examples of Normal Fat Hate:
I love Jeff Lewis and his show Flipping Out. I have never missed an episode. I think Jeff has the greatest sense of humor. Aside from being super creative and a savvy businessman, both things I respect. Jeff hates fat people and he talks about it regularly. He claims to be nervous around them. He openly says that he doesn't hire staff members who aren't "fit" and "attractive." I adore his openness and love that he says this and doesn't care what anyone thinks! I'd love to have dinner with him one day, you know, if he can stand it.
Other favorite normal fat haters of mine are from the Opie and Anthony Show on XM. Hosts Anthony Cumia and comic foil, Jim Norton are serious fat haters. Opie makes fat jokes, but he doesn't jump on the fat roll as often as Anthony and Jim. I subscribe to XM specifically for this show. That means, essentially, I pay to listen to them make fun of fatties and I will continue to do so. They are offensive, sardonic and beyond hilarious. I love them.
Abnormal Fat Hate:
Abnormal Fat Hate is an obsession. A sickness. Someone with AFH will sit at home and dwell on fat people and their hatred of them. It might drive them to do something like write a book about a lil girl that goes on a diet.
Example of Abnormal Fat Hate:
Someone who I used to really love suffers from AFH and it breaks my heart. Anthony Bourdain is a chef/TV personality who I used to admire. To me, he was sarcastic, sexy and engaging. I voraciously read his books. I loved his TV shows. I even watched the few episodes of the Fox show "Kitchen Confidential" based on his book of the same name. Now, I used to think he suffered from NFH, but I recently opened a book of his and began reading it. I came to the second chapter and couldn't get past the first few paragraphs.
Excerpt from The Nasty Bits by Anthony Bourdain:
The Evildoers
"I'm on the subway after a long, hard day in the kitchen, my feet swelling up like twin Hindenburgs; my back killing me; fourteen hours of hot, sweaty, uncomfortable toil and two hundred eighty dinners under my belt; and I want to sit down. There are three seats in front of me in the crowded subway car. Unfortunately, one miserable, fat bastard is taking up all three of them. As he sits glumly but defiantly in a center seat, his gigantic butt cheeks and thighs spill out of the molded plastic bucket onto the seats on both sides, and his beady eyes dare me to try and squeeze my bony ass into one of the narrow spaces next to him.
Dream sequence: I'm on a packed commuter flight and we're going down for a forced landing in a Midwestern cornfield. Engine one is on fire, the cabin fills up with smoke, panicky passengers overturn their meal trays as they rush the emergency exits. The pilot manages to plow the plane belly-down onto soft earth, but when the plane - in flames now - comes to a full stop and the emergency doors pop free, the three hundred pound ectomorph in the window seat becomes lodged firmly and inexorably in the small doorway. At the head of the aisle, another giant fuck collapses wheezing on to the floor, blocking egress. As my hair catches fire, the last thing is see is jiggly cremulated back fat."
I'm not sure how the book continues. I read and loved the first chapter, but couldn't go on - even having picked it up 4 or 5 times to start fresh. My thoughts were consumed with how much hate someone has to have in them to write this and dedicate a page in their book to it. What was he thinking when he was writing this? I think he felt dirty, disgusted and smug. I thought about the editors and publishers. Did this not make them squeamish like it did me?
It's beautifully written, isn't it? I mean, you can't deny that your mind takes you right into the subway car, standing next to Anthony Bourdain. If I close my eyes, I can smell it and I see what he sees, but I also notice a woman taking up three seats for her nap. I can't miss the man with the backpack taking up the seat next to him. I also see the "ectomorph" and catch his beady eyes, but instead of seeing a challenge... I see that he is apologetic and even maybe a little embarrassed.
You'll notice that I didn't link to the book that prompted this whole thing. Because I don't feel like that person is deserving of the attention.
