Men’s Trait D-bag of the week: Amateur geologists
Hello everyone and happy Friday, or well, mostly happy Friday. If you’re one of those wierdos who actually reads the author of an article, then you already know this, but I am not your usual beloved assessor of things both bag and rad. Our wonderful John Sousa has decided to get his holiday on a little bit early this year, and so whilst he celebrates the season with his family, I will be slaving away in the word mines to bring you our picks for Men’s Trait D-bag of the Week.
(John, if you’re reading this, know that you almost made the list.)
Before I get into the nominees, how about a breakdown of John’s process? We typically get a metric butt-load – for those raised on the Empirical system that’s the standard volume of an average European man’s rectum – of nominees a week from readers. If you want to nominate someone, there are about 3 ways to reach us:
- You can submit nominees to our Facebook page.
- You can tweet us your nominations at @MensTraitOnline or @johnpsousa using the hashtag #MTDBagOfTheWeek.
- You can email us at “editorial at 301digitalmedia dot com” with “MTDBOTW Nominee” in the subject line.
Depending on the nominee, we’ll publish a post, and then we’ll keep track of them all week. Our staff then votes (sometimes after a vigorous Slack debate). You can also submit things that you think are awesome for the “Things that were hella rad this week” section.
So without any further ado, I bring you . . . D-bags!
D-Bag of the Week Nominee #1 – WWE Hall of Famer Scott Hall
Scott Hall, or as you might better know him, Razor Ramon/Starship Coyote may not be as famous as he was in the glory days of WWE, now known as the “Nineties”, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have some loyal fans. Loyal fans, who got a little more than they bargained for when Scott decided to put a picture on Instagram of his Christmas tree.
In the Coyote’s defense, he was just trying to get his Instagram followers to feel the Christmas cheer, but he forgot what he had been feeling just a few seconds ago.
Now does accidentally posting hardcore porn to your Instagram make you a D-bag? No. Does watching it in your living room next to your Christmas tree wearing what I personally am picturing to be a tacky Christmas sweater? Maybe.
D-Bag of the Week Nominee #2 – People who Boycotted Star Wars: Rogue One
First off, don’t worry, no spoilers. Star Wars: Rogue One is a kick-ass film, and as one of the thousands across the country who went to the very first showing available last night, I wouldn’t even imagine trying to spoil that great a movie for anyone.
However, there are others who feel differently.
Ever since Donald Trump was promoted to President-Elect Donald Trump a month ago, a battle has been brewing (as usual) over Twitter. Somehow a rumor was started that Star Wars: Rogue One was an attack on the alt-right movement and was full of anti-Trump propaganda. As any group on the Internet does whenever anything happens, the alt-right exploded.
Without getting into the frankly exhausting details, things played out how you would expect. Hateful messages, death threats, denials, accusations, echo chambers, #DumpStarWars, and eventually the idea to boycott the film.
But where did they get the idea that Star Wars: Rogue One was attacking the alt-right? Well . . . from the plot.
In Rogue One, a diverse group rebels led by a woman band together to thwart a controlling government that treats non-humans as second class citizens. Honestly, the parallels are there if you look for them. At the same time, those parallels have been there since 1977, so acting like Star Wars has suddenly started to support equality is more than a little ridiculous.
In the end, no matter how much those who decided to boycott the film make me roll my eyes and shake my head, I can’t be too mad at them. I mean, they aren’t going to be able to see Rogue One, and that’s punishment enough.
Men’s Trait D-Bag of the Week Winner: Anyone who bought a Nordstrom Rock
I can vaguely remember the horror stories parents would whisper from the couch as the kids gathered around the Christmas tree. Tales of blood, violence, and betrayal. Unspeakable things. All to get the had-to-have gift that year, Molest-Me Elmo. Well, this year’s number one gift, isn’t some muppet fetishist’s wet dream, instead . . . it’s a rock.
And it costs $85.
When I first heard this, I was mad at Nordstrom for selling it. A rock in a leather pouch. What does it do? All the things a rock does. Exist. Be heavier than some things. Have a rough exterior.
But now that they have completely sold out, I realize it isn’t Nordstrom’s fault. They saw an opportunity to sell something that cost $2 and have a 400% profit margin. That . . . that’s just good business. Hell, that’s great business.
But the people who bought it . . .
I don’t know if you thought it was a joke, or fashionable, or what, but if you are reading this, you are a monster. Know that I hate you. I hate you because you’re stupid. I hate you because of your hipster sensibilities. I hate you because I cannot understand you and why you would buy this.
I will hate you on the beaches, I will hate you on the landing grounds, I will hate you in the fields and in the streets, I will hate you in hills, and I will never stop hating you.
Men’s Traiters, this holiday season, should you open a colorful box ‘neath an evergreen tree and find a Nordstrom Rock waiting inside, kindly turn to the person who gifted it to you with a smile on your face . . . and beat them to the death with it.