If you haven't had a chance to flip through Vice Magazine, consider yourself lucky. This beautiful looking, glossy booklet of crap is available at hipster stores across the city, for free. The magazine presents itself as a hip testiment to risque journalism, an image driven, in-your-face (tits and ass) documentation of pop culture. And it even attempts to display a "concious" side, as seen in recent articles on the struggles of poor, Filipino families living in cemetery shanty towns (see Living Dead: Manila North Cemetery Houses More Warm Bodies Than Cold) and young, sex-workers in Syria (see I Went Undercover in the World of Syrian Whorehouses).
The magazine is anything but conscious. In fact, it's drenched in racist misogyny. Most of the written pieces and images are purely there for the sake of sensationalism (as seen in the piece on the sexual exploitation of young Arab girls, where the "journalist" is going on a joyride through Syrian brothels). A lack of any sort of analysis (not to mention, journalistic and artistic integrity) moves the sensationalism of these written and visual pieces from the realm of ignorant, irresponsible and oppressive to that of pure violence.
"Is is wrong to want to rape Kimberly Kane?" (quote from Triple Ecstasy, a review of a porn film, where writer mistakes misogyny for humour, or perhaps sees them as one and the same).
Pseudo Journalism. Bad politics. Shitty writing.
And a highly supported magazine with big money.
That's just messed up.