I have no position on Lena Dunham

I’ve never seen Girls, partially due to the fact that we only recently got HBO and only because Comcast offered it in a truce after a fight we had. I don’t have much of a desire to see it because the characters just seem so self-involved and with so little self-awareness, just from what I’ve read. Not that I can’t enjoy shows about people who are self-involved with little self-awareness but I just think I’ll pass, thanks. I can’t help but run across articles about Lena Dunham that run on the websites I like and will read those articles when I don’t feel like working but they don’t spur my interest in this woman. I have no position on Lena Dunham. I don’t care about her acting, writing or directing. I’m sure she’s a lovely and talented person but I don’t know if she will ever mean anything to me. Even reading what other people think about her is exhausting because it almost pressures me into thinking I should have some kind of stance on her or her work or her public persona or What Her Work Says About Women and I just don’t feel like taking a position, partially due to the fact that I am not that familiar with her work and also due to the fact that there are plenty of other books and TV shows and movies to sink my teeth into and I’m sorry, but I just haven’t gotten to her yet. I don't care how naked Dunham gets on Girls or how she looks or what grand statement her nudity might make or how many times she might crap herself while eating a burrito naked during an OB-GYN exam and then do a bunch or coke and cry and have sex six times with the gynecologist. I don’t care to debate how Girls deals with race. I truly don’t care to read another exhaustive (and exhausting) think piece on what the show signifies about how white 20-somethings live in Brooklyn today or whatever bullshit fills the tubes of the Internet. If that floats your boat, go ahead and float but I just truly do not care even a whit. Most of all, I have a breathtaking disinterest in how Dunham looked in non-retouched Vogue photos (and thought that whole thing was more embarrassing for Jezebel than it was for Dunham or Vogue) and cannot spur my brain to process a debate on the politics of how a magazine might digitally alter the neckline of a dress or the curve of an arm. Write your dissertation on it. I’ll look it up on the campus library someday, I’m sure. And I know 400 words is a lot to spend ranting about something I claim not to care about but, well, that’s what I do here.