AC Person of the Week: Diablo Cody

Yes, yes, I know. I know, I know, you don’t want to hear it, especially from me. But it’s been a minute since Air Conditioning had a “Person of the Week,” and you know what? I think Ms. Cody is deserving of it.

For those that are unaware, the Academy Award-winning neophyte screenwriter has been on the receiving end of a lot of hate, mostly from people (like myself) who have yet to make it big in the industry. It seems she just came out of nowhere to write the script for a critically and financially successful film and rode that success all the way to the Oscars. Damn her!

But everyone has their limits, and apparently, Diablo reached hers. Using her MySpace blog to vent, Ms. Cody’s message to her haters was clear: FUCK YOU.

I am not Charlie Kaufman or Sofia Coppola (much as I supplicate at their Cannes-weary feet.) I’m not Paul Thomas Anderson. I’m not even Paul W.S. Anderson. I am middle-class trash from the Midwest. I’m a competent nonfiction writer, an admittedly green screenwriter, and a product of Hollywood, USA. I am “Diablo Cody” and if you’re not a fan, go rent Prospero’s Books again and leave me the fuck alone.

I may have won 19 awards that you don’t feel I earned, but it’s neither original nor relevant to slag on Juno. Really. And you’re not some bold, singular voice of dissent, You are exactly like everyone else in your zeitgeisty-demo-lifestyle pod. You are even like me. (I, too, loved Arrested Development! Aren’t we a pretty pair of cultural mavericks? Hey, let’s go bitch about how Black Kids are overrated!

Read more after the jump!

I’m sorry that while you were shooting your failed opus at Tisch, I was jamming toxic silicon toys up my ass for money. I get why you’re bitter. I took exactly one film class in college and– with the curious exception of the Douglas Sirk unit—it bored the shit out of me. I also once got busted for loudly crinkling a bag of Jujubes during a classroom screening of “Vivre Sa Vie.” I don’t deserve to be here. We’ve established that. But I’m here. Five million 12-year-olds think I’m Buck Henry. Accept it.

(Incidentally, if you were me for one day you’d crumble like fucking Stilton. I am better at this than you. You’re not strong enough, Film_Fan78. Trust me.)

I’m sorry to all those violent, semi-literate fanboys who hate me for befriending their heroes. I can’t help it if your favorite writer, actor, director, or talk show host likes me. Maybe you would too, if we actually met.

I know my name is fake and that it annoys you. What, do you hate Queen Latifah and Rip Torn, too? Writers and entertainers have been using pseudonyms for years. Chances are, you’re spewing bile under an assumed screen name yourself. I’m sorry if you think I’m like some inked-up quasi-Suicide Girl derby cunt from 2002, but I like my fake name. It’s engraved on an Oscar. Yours isn’t.

Caliente! The two things that I love most about Ms. Cody’s rant are 1.) her defense of the use of her sobriquet, something that I myself am doing with regards to my own writing, and 2.) her declaration that she “is better at this than you.” She means you, dear reader, not me. I am her peer.

In fact, love her declaration so much that it has become my personal mantra, updated on both my MySpace and Facebook, and a candidate for Catchphrase of the Year.

And just to be clear, when she refers to “Black Kids” being overrated, she doesn’t mean talented Negroes like myself. She’s referring to a rock band. If it were otherwise, well, then we may have an issue. But since that’s not the case … love ya, Brook!! 🙂


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