Writers Matt Taibbi and Mark Ames Serviced No One But Themselves With Their 'Satire'
LatestJournalist and bestselling author Matt Taibbi is well known for his acerbic takedowns of politicians and corporations like Goldman Sachs and political commentary and dispatches from the 2016 election. But last week, while on tour to promote his new book about the death of Eric Garner, I Can’t Breathe, Taibbi became known for something else when was asked to publicly reckon with a series of deeply misogynistic pieces that helped establish his career as a writer nearly two decades ago. During a talk at Harvard’s bookstore, NPR’s Robin Young confronted Taibbi with a disturbing passage from a book that he co-wrote with Mark Ames in 2010. The paragraphs, written by Ames, describe their business manager, Kara, objecting to him and Taibbi sexually harassing their female employees at the office for the tabloid they co-edited in Russia in the 1990s, the eXile:
We’d never given her any respect or credit. We were glory hogs and obnoxious jerks. Worst of all was our sexism. Our sexism and sexual harassment of the Russian female staff, as well as the sexism in our newspaper, was too much for her. Watching us harass the young female staff had to be the most painful part—because we’d never, in a million years, have thought of harassing her.
“You know I’m not PC. But there’s a limit. You go too far. You’re always trying to force Masha and Sveta under the table to give you blow jobs. It’s not funny. They don’t think it’s funny,” Kara complained.
“But . . . it is funny,” Matt said.
We have been pretty rough on our girls. We’d ask our Russian staff to flash their asses or breasts for us. We’d tell them that if they wanted to keep their jobs, they’d have to perform unprotected anal sex with us. Nearly every day, we asked our female staff if they approved of anal sex. That was a fixation of ours. “Can I fuck you in the ass? Huh? I mean, without a rubber? Is that okay?” It was all part of the fun. Fun that Kara was no part of.
The book, eXile: Sex, Drugs, and Libel in the New Russia, is about the decade they spent running an irreverent biweekly tabloid in Russia in the 1990s and early 2000s of the same name. The eXile was a controversial, part-satirical, part-investigative gonzo look at Moscow and Russian life in the 1990s through the eyes of American expats. Ames and Taibbi played pranks on Russian officials then wrote about it and loaded up on drugs and went to clubs and wrote about that, too. They said they received death-threats for their work. The tabloid eventually shut down in 2008 after the Russian government opened an investigation on grounds that they had violated Russian law by “encouraging extremism, spreading pornography, or promoting drug use,” according to a 2010 Vanity Fair profile mourning the tabloid’s shuttering. The website then moved online to a blog, the eXiled, maintained by Ames. It also shifted its focus to cover US politics and culture. The Vanity Fair profile described it as “the bastard progeny of Spy magazine and an X-rated version of Poor Richard’s Almanack” that “had pilloried, in the foulest terms possible, almost everyone of importance, and no importance, in Russia.”
But one of the hallmarks of the eXile, both in its life as a tabloid and a book, was its misogyny. In the Chicago Reader in 2010, book reviewer Martha Bayne described the eXile as “breathtakingly misogynist” and observed that, while Taibbi and Ames took aim at worthy targets in Russian government and society, “the moral high ground feels a little soggy when it’s claimed by two guys who use the front of the paper to champion the pleasures of teenage virgins, run ads for ‘models’ in the back, and regularly eat for free at restaurants because the owners are scared of a bad review.”
She called attention to several disturbing passages, in which Ames writes what is presented as a first-person account of him threatening to kill his pregnant ex-girlfriend if she doesn’t have an abortion:
In that same chapter, Ames describes approaching a 15-year-old girl, specifically because he learned how young she was:
Later, he describes sex with that girl:
Ames also had a column called “Whore-R stories,” in which he claims he slept with sex workers and wrote about his experiences, presented as non-fictional accounts. The column was sometimes accompanied by photos of the women, details about their bodies, their performances, and their personalities. (The column is a favorite among some Men’s Rights Activists). The paper also ran club reviews written by a fictional misogynistic character, Johnny Chen, that ranked clubs based on three criteria, including how likely an American expat was to get laid. (Taibbi recently revealed in a Facebook post that Chen was written by Ames.)
Here’s one passage from a “Johnny Chen” review in which he describes what seems like raping a drunk teen who was “bleeding and crying” and contemplating throwing her off his balcony:
Literally within four minutes of arriving, some teenager with a face like Muttley’s from Laff-A-Lympics fell off the bar and onto my shoulders. I carried her almost straight out to the coat check, then hurried her down to a taxi, ran her home, up my stairs, and into my apartment. The whole time she was begging me to take her back, to be careful, she was drunk, bla-bla-blah… After we were through, I had no idea what to do with her. She was bleeding and crying. As for me, I was depressed. I’d just shot a load large enough to repopulate North Korea. So I walked her over to my balcony, and held her in my arm, leaning her over the ledge.
“Throw her over,” Johnny Jr. advised me.
“What?”
“You know you want to,” he said. “Just pick her up and throw her over. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
But I didn’t have the energy. Instead, I passed out on the floor, and woke up the next morning, with Muttley beside me. It took me a long time to get rid of her, but I did. You know how that is. It always works out that you have horrible poo cramps the morning after, and all you want to do is dump a huge shit, but you’ve got this humiliated, skanky bitch tagging around. Girls, if I can give you one piece of advice to win a man’s heart, it’s to get up bright and early the morning after, and leave before he even wakes up. Because despite what the song says, There Ain’t No Morning After.
Until perhaps now—as a tidal wave of survivors of sexual harassment and assault have come forward against producer Harvey Weinstein, director James Toback, journalist Mark Halperin, actor Kevin Spacey, and others—neither Taibbi nor Ames have been forced to reckon with the fact that they ascended to journalistic stardom, at least in part, by writing, often in the first-person and often proudly about sexual harassment and assault. In fact, for years, some of their peers in the media celebrated this sexism. In the Moscow Times, book reviewer Owen Mathews calls the passage above, in which Chen rapes a girl, “hilarious.” When Publisher’s Weekly reviewed the book, they glossed over the depictions of rape and sexual harassment, writing, “Only those with a National Lampoon mentality will enjoy the descriptions of the editors’ sexual conquests and their comparisons of Russian and American women. Like much of the paper itself, the book, which recounts the newspaper’s history, is tasteless.” The book even earned high praise from infamous men’s rights activist and pick-up artist Roosh V, who wrote in 2010, “I highly recommend The Exile, one of those rare books that makes me want to be a part of the story,” and wrote that the book convinced him, “I have no choice but to visit, sooner than later.” And, while the tabloid was billed as satire, the book’s back cover described it as “the inside story of how the tabloid came to be.” Publisher’s Weekly categorized the book as non-fiction, as did a note at the beginning of the book that read, in part, “This is a work of nonfiction.”