When I read shit like this, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or both. On one hand, it hurts that there are people out there–published authors, no less–who see the existence of bodies like mine as something akin to a zombie takeover or nuclear winter. On the other hand, it’s too ridiculous not to laugh at. It illustrates just how absurd anti-”obesity” rhetoric truly is.
And it would make a really, really great band name. I can picture it now: a riot grrl-esque group of fierce fatties, with reclaimed epithets like “fat bitch” scrawled across their exposed stomachs in lipstick. They wear metallic booty shorts and, like Beth Ditto, often perform in nothing but their undies and bras. They rock hard, take no shit, and inspire legions of young fat girls to revolt.