Rose McGowan, an actress, recently sparked a contentious discussion on Twitter over media mogul Oprah Winfrey. Her tweet revealed a different side of Oprah, casting doubt on the public’s view of the powerful person and bringing up issues with the way she has used her influence over time. Numerous Americans were drawn to this information, which resulted in a post going viral.
McGowan accused Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein of sexually abusing her, and in a tweet, McGowan blasted Oprah for her alleged ties to Weinstein. Using the hashtag #lizard, she criticized Oprah for allegedly backing a “sick power structure for personal gain” and even branded her out as “fake”. There wasn’t much opportunity for interpretation with this clear-cut and unambiguous remark.
It’s important to remember, though, that McGowan’s post was made nearly a year after Oprah resigned from her role as executive producer of the Russell Simmons documentary for #MeToo. Oprah clarified that she didn’t think she and the filmmakers were still on the same creative page and that more work needed to be done to fully depict the stories of the victims. Oprah stressed her steadfast conviction in and support for the women who came forward as victims in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter.
Oprah did star in a film that was distributed by Weinstein’s media business, so it is true that she had prior relationships with him. Oprah admitted her previous friendship with Weinstein when the charges against him surfaced, but she insisted she was unaware of his predatory behavior toward women. If she had known, she claimed, she would have spoken out against his reprehensible actions.
Oprah’s relationship with Weinstein serves as a reminder of the difficulties in keeping personal and professional interactions separate, as well as the complexity of the entertainment industry. It’s critical to understand that people can be victims themselves as well as supporters of victims.
Rose McGowan has attacked Oprah outspokenly, but she has also become entangled in the controversy surrounding the California Gavin Newsom election recall. Notwithstanding these events, McGowan’s tweet is significant because it emphasizes how critical it is to report abuse and hold people accountable, regardless of their standing in society or level of influence. It serves as a reminder of the strength that comes from speaking one’s truth and advancing the social justice dialogue.
Privileged Parents Excused Their Child for Kicking My Seat on the Flight, Claiming “He’s Just a Kid!”, Karma Delivered Them a Teachable Moment
On a long flight, a woman’s patience is tested by a child who kicks her seat and parents who ignore the disruption. What begins as a frustrating ordeal soon takes a surprising turn, revealing that karma has a way of delivering unexpected lessons.
As I settled into my aisle seat for a seven-hour flight, I hoped for some much-needed relaxation. With a book in hand, noise-canceling headphones on, and a good playlist ready, I thought I was prepared for the journey ahead. The cabin was packed and the air felt stuffy, but I was willing to endure it for a peaceful trip.
Then it began. A soft thumping at the back of my seat started to grow louder. Initially, I dismissed it, thinking a child was just adjusting in their seat. But the thumping became a steady rhythm, kick, kick, kick, each hit harder than the last.
I turned around and saw a boy, around six or seven, swinging his legs and grinning as if he were having a great time. His sneakers repeatedly slammed into my seat, creating a mini drum concert. His parents, seated nearby, were glued to their phones, completely unaware of the chaos their child was causing. I hoped the boy would tire out soon, or that his parents would notice, but the kicks only intensified.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I turned around, offering a polite smile and asked the parents to ask their son to stop kicking my seat. The mother barely acknowledged me, dismissing my request with a “He’s just a kid!” before returning to her phone. I tried again, but the father was too engrossed in a video to care. Sensing his parents’ indifference, the boy kicked even harder, laughing as if he were winning some game at my expense.
I pressed the call button for the flight attendant, hoping she could help. She arrived, friendly and professional, and I explained the situation. She approached the family, asking them kindly to stop the boy from kicking my seat. For a brief moment, there was silence.
But as soon as she walked away, the kicks resumed, even more forceful this time. Frustrated, I stood up and spoke louder, asking them again to control their child. The mother rolled her eyes, and the father muttered something dismissive. The boy laughed and kicked harder. At this point, I was fed up. I called the attendant again, asking if I could switch to another seat. She returned shortly with good news: there was a seat available in first class.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my belongings and followed her to the front of the plane. The first-class section was a welcome relief, spacious, quiet, and free of children. I settled into my new seat, and the tension melted away. I was finally able to relax, enjoying a drink and diving into my book.
As the flight continued smoothly, I overheard the attendants talking about my old seatmates. The boy had found a new target for his kicks, an elderly woman who had taken my place. When she asked him to stop, the mother snapped at her, escalating the situation to a shouting match that caught the attention of the flight crew. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the elderly woman but couldn’t deny the poetic justice unfolding. As we prepared to land, I noticed security vehicles waiting by the gate.
When we disembarked, I saw the family being escorted off the plane by security officers. The boy, who had been so bold earlier, was now crying, clinging to his mother. The parents looked embarrassed, no longer the dismissive people they had been. I left the airport feeling a sense of satisfaction that surprised me. Karma had intervened, allowing me to enjoy my first-class experience and witness a bit of justice served.
As I walked past the family, I couldn’t help but smile at them. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the closure I needed. Sometimes, the universe has a way of balancing things out, and that day, it certainly did. With my book finished and my flight experience greatly improved, I walked away with a story that would surely entertain friends in the future.
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