Non-RebloggingNonSociety

Scaaaaary 404

Scaaaaary 404

Not “Non” as in “Nony” or “Non” as in “NonSociety” but “Non” as in poof, gone, doesn’t exist anymore.

The Website Formerly Known as Reblogging NonSociety is no more. It was suspended or deleted for a violation of WordPress‘s famous Terms of Service, and let’s just say that the self-hating Julia Allison fangirl community is taking it hard.

Some vague background, because really all I know is vague background here, and for that, I am deeply thankful. Having gone about as far into fandom as one can do without getting a restraining order, I know the level of passion involved, and it’ll be no stranger to anyone who saw that rather unfortunate DeNiro movie. No, not the Fockers, the other one.

Anyway, there’s this person, Julia Allison. She’s an actual person and a decent writer, but she behaves like a fame-seeking android at all times except when she is renouncing fame and talking about settling down with her Rich Geek Boyfriend Du Jour. Let’s call it 99.842% of her life that the android is dominant, and the remaining 0.158% of the time she’s really only link-baiting Gawker.

Nick Allison, by CVXN

Nick Allison, by CVXN

Gawker. Oh yes, Gawker. This was all their doing, actually, because long ago, in a city far, far away, they plucked an obscure little blossom from her mundanity and bestowed upon her that most current of currencies: fame.

Fame Whore

July 6, 2010 Urban Word of the Day

An individual who is willing to do anything, regardless of how humiliating or demeaning, to achieve notoriety.

More often than not, this involves appearing on multiple reality television shows and/or having “private” sex videos “leaked” to the press.

Behold the reason for Julia Allison’s first major coverage in Gawker:

Julia Allison dressed as the Condom Fairy, Halloween 2006. Oh, has it really been four and a half years?

Julia Allison dressed as the Condom Fairy, Halloween 2006. Oh, has it really been four and a half years?

Actually, the condom dress was the most awesome thing she ever did. That took audacity, even for a sex columnist in a gimme paper, and before you laugh reflect on the fact that upon some very flimsy corsets great empires have been built.

Thus, from Gawker to Wired: not just to an article in Wired, but to a COVER STORY in Wired, on how to become an internet fameball (the gender-neutral, sex-trade-worker-positive replacement for “famewhore” that Gawker favours). And, really, who better to explain/personify/demonstrate it? Five years ago she was bumming around New York looking for a gig, any gig in front of a camera or behind a keyboard and within three years she’s on the cover of a Conde Nast glossy, albeit the geekiest one. She even got some venture capital for her website/lifecast/whoknowswhatthehellitwasreally, NonSociety.

One does not rise so far, so fast, without attracting several things:

  1. attention (see all of the above for details)
  2. fans
  3. haters
  4. that very complicated, metamorphic and unstable substratum of people who hate themselves for loving you and express this by dogging you, as publicly and as frequently as they can.
Haters Gonna Hate!

Haters Gonna Hate! Hatters Gonna Hat!

It is of these last that Reblogging NonSociety was formed, back in the early days of the interwebs, say, January of 2009 on Tumblr and, after a short, sharp shock in the form of the blog being taken down by Tumblr, on Blogger. After awhile, they decided to move to the (obviously superior) WordPress platform.

So what happened today really shouldn’t come as any surprise.

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Quiz: What Reindeer Are You?

 

Yep, another startlingly accurate internet quiz. These things are starting to scare me, actually.


You Are Comet


A total daredevil, you’re the reindeer with an edge! 

Why You’re Naughty: You almost gave Santa a heart attack when you took him sky diving

Why You’re Nice: You always make sure the sleigh is going warp speed

Imagine

John Lennon

John Lennon

Thirty years ago today, The Sister walked into my room in Carleton Place, Ontario and said, “Wake up. Grandpa and John Lennon are both dead.”

Really, every morning since then has been a snap, relatively speaking.

Presented without comment

Old MacDonald had a farm   until this thing killed him.

Because honestly, officer, I have an alibi.

PS I think we now know where this came from.

Eight kilometers: the Justin Bieber story

Revealed at last, the seedy back story to the greatest musical phenomenon of our time, the firebrand known as Justin Bieber. Brace yourself: the viewer warning says “contains Canadian idioms.”