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Why You Should Never Take Kate Carraway to IKEA
Because she will try to give you a hand job! At least! Or something! It’s not really altogether clear what the graph above, from this Eye Weekly article about sex’s worth, means. (It’s not a graph so much as a collection of shapes with tenuously related words and numbers near them.) Nor are we sure that we should even be writing about it or its author, anyway: there’s probably nothing that makes Kate Carraway—self-described “alpha-exhibitionist”—happier than seeing a sentence like this that she’s in the middle of, and besides, what’s one article in Eye worth getting all worked up about? Heck, who are we to begrudge someone the opportunity to overshare, all the time, on a platform of someone else’s making? (Remarkably, Carraway’s latest article about sex for Eye is actually not all about her—a rare exception to the rule, since she can usually turn even a massacre of a dozen journalists into an opportunity to tell you about her cold, or no news at all into a happy birthday wish to her “super-hot and successful” sister.)
But maybe the better question is: why, Eye? For some time now, the weekly paper has been becoming less and less about Toronto and more and more about the people who write for it—way more I than Eye. Which, again: fine. But as the endless “me”s and “I”s and unchecked sexual self-aggrandizement increase, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to see what subject Eye aims to hold a mirror up to other than itself. Maybe a graph would help clarify that.





