And you know the best thing about this movie is they could have made Felix be the nice guy, be the understanding guy, the only guy who’s kind to Ralph, but they make him just as prejudiced as the other game characters. He wasn’t mean to Ralph per say, but he wasn’t nice either, and definitely didn’t want to get involved with the trouble that followed Ralph around.
It’s only after Felix gets treated badly himself that he starts looking at how Ralph is treated by others, how Ralph is treated by him and changes his attitude.
Because that’s the thing, you don’t have to be the bad guy to be prejudiced. Sometimes you can be the nice guy who doesn’t do anything for or against, and sometimes that’s just as bad.
This movie. Ugh.
if anybody asks me why i hate men, i’m just gonna redirect them to this post.
it’s pretty fucking obvious that men only want to invest in breast cancer research to further degrade, objectify, and jerk off to body parts they already feel 100% entitled to. that’s what is at stake for them.
what about the women whose “tatas” weren’t saved? how must they feel being surrounded by awareness ads that focus more on keeping women’s sexy-sexy-titties-to-continue-titillating-the-males than saving real life human beings and helping survivors?
If anyone’s wondering, those posts came from here. It’s a forum for breast cancer support. Give it a read, and you’ll see how many women are outright abandoned by their husbands, sometimes after being married for decades, because their “tatas” couldn’t be saved.
This culture of “save the tatas” even goes as far as the doctor’s offices themselves. Most doctors request that the husband be present during surgical consultations, as though he has an equal say in the patient-professional discussion.
If the woman is single, as was my case, doctors have actually recommended postponing surgery until she finds a relationship, because “it could be nearly impossible to find someone who accepts it [your unnatural tatas] in years to come”.
I’m 15 months post-mastectomy, and the date I had this past week was the first time since then that a guy hadn’t reacted negatively to my scars. The relief was so overwhelming that I was fighting back tears. When I told him —essentially warning him that my body wasn’t what he must be expecting — I felt so guilty; it seemed to have the same weight and shame as telling someone I had some sort of an incurable STI or a felony record.
I shouldn’t have felt that way. I should not be ashamed of choosing to live.
Thank you for your important commentary! I hope you find someone who can love you for who you are and admire your strength as a survivor.