Today on my Forbes blog, I get cozy with Ashton Kutcher, contemplate Dooce in Bangladesh, and tackle that "violent sex cured my PTSD" story: "If Bloggers Aren't Journalists, and Journalists Aren't Bloggers, Why Do Celebrities Tweet So Much?"
Precisely what McClelland, Armstrong, and Kutcher had done wrong was the subject upon which no one could agree. McClelland was charged with privileging her Caucasian experiences over those of Haitians, for asking a man to play-rape her, and for either writing or giving the nod to a boner-popping title that was sure to result in a plethora of horny clicks. Armstrong was criticized for being a white woman in a non-white land, for not clarifying how her trip was being financed, and for writing, upon her return to the U.S., dramatic insights like, “Right now I’m still trying to make sense of the luxury it is to be able to brush my teeth with tap water without fearing that I might catch a disease that could possibly kill me.” Kutcher was blasted for being a young, good-looking idiot with limited acting skills, for possibly exaggerating sex trafficking numbers, and for using Twitter to get companies to pull ads from a company that runs ads featuring of-age and underage sex workers.[READ, IMAGE]