Chess's Random Rants
Mass-Produced Self-Loathing
Nothing fills me with self-loathing quite like Urban Outfitters.
Not just because it makes me realize how willing I am to pay for an extremely overpriced Saved By the Bell t-shirt or clothes that are "deliberately distressed", but more importantly, Urban Outfitters makes me come to terms with my inner douche. I'm sorry. It's true. I have these unstoppable hipster tendencies. PBR is my favorite beer. (Because I can't afford Red Stripe. And to be fair, I loved PBR before I realized it was a hipster beer). I also love me some New York indie bands, and I see any movie with Parker Posey. (In fact I will even go on record to state that Josie and the Pussycats is extremely underrated as a film).
So, my 7 minutes in Urban Outfitters always goes the same way. Me:
Now, I could go on about how being a hipster by buying mass manufactured, overpriced clothes, is unbelievably poser-ish ala being goth by shopping at Hot Topic, and it is. But I'm guilty of it too. And coming to terms with your inner douche is an extremely unpleasant situation. I'm a 22 year old girl who dreams of meeting Will Shortz, and wasted a month of her Netflix subscription doing a Truffaut retrospective by herself before she admitted she hated these movies, and moved up Leap Year. And because I love Journey and ABC Family shows (unironically) and can sing the theme songs to Charles in Charge and Facts of Life, I tend to let these inner douchy things slide. And then I walk into Urban Outfitters, and I face them all over again. Oh, Urban Outfitters. How you make me hate myself
Not just because it makes me realize how willing I am to pay for an extremely overpriced Saved By the Bell t-shirt or clothes that are "deliberately distressed", but more importantly, Urban Outfitters makes me come to terms with my inner douche. I'm sorry. It's true. I have these unstoppable hipster tendencies. PBR is my favorite beer. (Because I can't afford Red Stripe. And to be fair, I loved PBR before I realized it was a hipster beer). I also love me some New York indie bands, and I see any movie with Parker Posey. (In fact I will even go on record to state that Josie and the Pussycats is extremely underrated as a film).
So, my 7 minutes in Urban Outfitters always goes the same way. Me:
- Nonchalantly walk in with (insert indie band here) blasting on my iPod so I can't hear the door greeter say hello.
- "Oh! How cute is this skirt/boyfriend blazer/cloche hat combo?" I think, before I discover that that combo costs roughly $170 total.
- I promptly move over to the sale section. I rifle through the section, which is eternally trashed and disorganized. (Why, oh why would you put earrings and scarves and shoes in the same sale box, Urban Outfitter workers? Don't you know all three of those things will get ruined?)
- Find 1 semi-cute empire waisted dress that was a bright blue once upon a time, but now looks as though someone found it in the woods after it had been lost there for 4 years, and decided to put it on a rack. It's only $20-- I'm buying this, and a notebook with a sarcastic catchphrase printed on it, and a copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
- As I go back to trying to find one pair of earrings that hasn't been shattered by a stray heel, my Vampire Weekend album ended, and (horror) Miley Cyrus is now playing on my iPod. Everyone here is going to judge me. I look around to see at who will be writing me off as an idiot, and I realize, my god. I hate these people. These are people that wear glasses without lens, and ironic t-shirts, and fedoras. There's a hipster girl in a Poison tee, a tutu skirt, and shredded leggings. Even Courtney Love would work through her drug haze to hate this girl.
- I immediately shove everything I was going to buy onto a shelf and run out of the store, reaching a haven at the Gap, where people don't bother to pretend to be interesting.
Now, I could go on about how being a hipster by buying mass manufactured, overpriced clothes, is unbelievably poser-ish ala being goth by shopping at Hot Topic, and it is. But I'm guilty of it too. And coming to terms with your inner douche is an extremely unpleasant situation. I'm a 22 year old girl who dreams of meeting Will Shortz, and wasted a month of her Netflix subscription doing a Truffaut retrospective by herself before she admitted she hated these movies, and moved up Leap Year. And because I love Journey and ABC Family shows (unironically) and can sing the theme songs to Charles in Charge and Facts of Life, I tend to let these inner douchy things slide. And then I walk into Urban Outfitters, and I face them all over again. Oh, Urban Outfitters. How you make me hate myself
Oh . . . Canada?
I know that celebrities (at least the non-trashy fame whores) want me to "respect their privacy" and "let them live their own lives" blah blah whine. However, there is certain information that is imperative to my knowledge and affection for a celebrity that many try to keep secret. People say it's no big deal . . . that it doesn't change anything, but that's not really true, is it? I speak, of course, about Secret Canadians.
Let me state upfront that there is nothing inherently evil about being Canadian. In the service industry, there is no nationality that is more polite or kind-- it's a factual stereotype. They seem like a lovely people. However, that doesn't change the fact that Canada is, and always has been, lame. It just can't be avoided. France gets to be stylish and rude, Ireland gets to be drunk, England gets to be self-effacing, and Canada has to be lame. Ever seen Degrassi the TV series? There's enough evidence of Canada's lameness right there. Actually, this happens to me all the time-- I'll be watching some random TV show, and I can't help thinking, "There's something wrong with this. Everyone is a huge dork," and then I finally figure it out-- it's Canadian. Yes, the country has an excellent standard of living, and an almost 99% literacy rate. Congrats, Canada. Culturally, you are still insignificant and wholly uncool. Came you name a decent TV show or movie out of Canada? Yeah, they don't exist.
Which is why I simultaneously understand and resent these stars that sneak down the border into the US and become successes, without being upfront about being Canadian. Perpetrator No. 1? Ryan Reynolds. Funny, charming, brutally hot (it's true, don't deny it), and married to eternal Maxim Top 10 hottie Scarlet Johansson. And yes, Canadian. He doesn't necessarily hide the fact, but he certainly doesn't go advertising it. He's been around in American TV shows since I was 8, so I just sort of assumed he was American. Then, a few years ago, when Ryan Reynolds got engaged to Alanis Morissette, I couldn't help thinking that this was bizarre. Not that I don't dig laughing at Dave Coulier during "You Oughta Know", but Ryan is significantly hotter than Alanis. My sister had to explain to me that they were both Canadian, and I felt betrayed. But Ryan is so Hot! So normal-seeming! I mean, I guess being Canadian doesn't take his hotness away from him, but it's kind of like discovering that the cute guy you work with was home-schooled. Something is just a little... off.
And Ryan is completely responsible for pioneering the trend of sneaking south of the border. I mean, everyone knew that Mike Myers and Jim Carrey were Canadian. It only made sense--they're insane. But now, half the stars of hit teen shows on the CW are Canadian. A Canadian girl should not be able to star in 90210. It's just wrong. There is absolutely no Canadian equivalent to 90210, or Los Angeles. Somehow the utterly craptastic Degrassi the TV show is a credible start-off point for hot Canadian actresses-- the star of Vampire Diaries is Canadian too--as well as a Degrassi High grad. And then, of course, there is Drake. Drake, hip-hop sensation, singer of the unavoidable hit "Best I Ever Had." He's trying to be really low-key about his past, but he can't fool me. I wasted far too much time watching junk TV. I know that Drake has no street cred-- he was on Degrassi too. He played Jimmy, the former basketball star who was crippled when he was shot by the school nerd. Yup. That's right. I'm calling you out, Drake. I would also take issue with Hayden Christiansen as a Secret Canadian, but he was so unbelievably awful in Star Wars that I just feel sort of sorry for him.
I guess I should be grateful that these people recognize the lameness of their own country, and try to make themselves "Adopted Americans", but I can't help feeling a little betrayed by it. I mean, surely there are a multitude of American hotties with some semblance of talent from whom Secret Canadians are taking jobs. And American hotties don't have that home-schooly, Canadian taint. They would automatically be cooler than Canadians. Because I may not be a banner-waving America lover, but I do recognize one thing. We're cool as hell. Canada better recognize.
Let me state upfront that there is nothing inherently evil about being Canadian. In the service industry, there is no nationality that is more polite or kind-- it's a factual stereotype. They seem like a lovely people. However, that doesn't change the fact that Canada is, and always has been, lame. It just can't be avoided. France gets to be stylish and rude, Ireland gets to be drunk, England gets to be self-effacing, and Canada has to be lame. Ever seen Degrassi the TV series? There's enough evidence of Canada's lameness right there. Actually, this happens to me all the time-- I'll be watching some random TV show, and I can't help thinking, "There's something wrong with this. Everyone is a huge dork," and then I finally figure it out-- it's Canadian. Yes, the country has an excellent standard of living, and an almost 99% literacy rate. Congrats, Canada. Culturally, you are still insignificant and wholly uncool. Came you name a decent TV show or movie out of Canada? Yeah, they don't exist.
Which is why I simultaneously understand and resent these stars that sneak down the border into the US and become successes, without being upfront about being Canadian. Perpetrator No. 1? Ryan Reynolds. Funny, charming, brutally hot (it's true, don't deny it), and married to eternal Maxim Top 10 hottie Scarlet Johansson. And yes, Canadian. He doesn't necessarily hide the fact, but he certainly doesn't go advertising it. He's been around in American TV shows since I was 8, so I just sort of assumed he was American. Then, a few years ago, when Ryan Reynolds got engaged to Alanis Morissette, I couldn't help thinking that this was bizarre. Not that I don't dig laughing at Dave Coulier during "You Oughta Know", but Ryan is significantly hotter than Alanis. My sister had to explain to me that they were both Canadian, and I felt betrayed. But Ryan is so Hot! So normal-seeming! I mean, I guess being Canadian doesn't take his hotness away from him, but it's kind of like discovering that the cute guy you work with was home-schooled. Something is just a little... off.
And Ryan is completely responsible for pioneering the trend of sneaking south of the border. I mean, everyone knew that Mike Myers and Jim Carrey were Canadian. It only made sense--they're insane. But now, half the stars of hit teen shows on the CW are Canadian. A Canadian girl should not be able to star in 90210. It's just wrong. There is absolutely no Canadian equivalent to 90210, or Los Angeles. Somehow the utterly craptastic Degrassi the TV show is a credible start-off point for hot Canadian actresses-- the star of Vampire Diaries is Canadian too--as well as a Degrassi High grad. And then, of course, there is Drake. Drake, hip-hop sensation, singer of the unavoidable hit "Best I Ever Had." He's trying to be really low-key about his past, but he can't fool me. I wasted far too much time watching junk TV. I know that Drake has no street cred-- he was on Degrassi too. He played Jimmy, the former basketball star who was crippled when he was shot by the school nerd. Yup. That's right. I'm calling you out, Drake. I would also take issue with Hayden Christiansen as a Secret Canadian, but he was so unbelievably awful in Star Wars that I just feel sort of sorry for him.
I guess I should be grateful that these people recognize the lameness of their own country, and try to make themselves "Adopted Americans", but I can't help feeling a little betrayed by it. I mean, surely there are a multitude of American hotties with some semblance of talent from whom Secret Canadians are taking jobs. And American hotties don't have that home-schooly, Canadian taint. They would automatically be cooler than Canadians. Because I may not be a banner-waving America lover, but I do recognize one thing. We're cool as hell. Canada better recognize.
Netflix, Shame, and "The System"
I have ridiculous trouble sleeping. I also have ridiculous trouble paying attention to schoolwork/work/etc. These two annoying traits together make Netflix possibly the most dangerous thing in my life. Granted, my life is not excessively dangerous, as I am not a shark diver or a bomb detonator, but still. I decided to treat myself to a Netflix account, and sprung for the deal where you get unlimited online watching. Oh no no no. It turns out that Netflix is worst thing in the world for me. I constantly forget to pick up/drop off the DVDs in the mail. I've had "The Music Man" for about 2 months now, and it's still stuffed in my mailbox.
My Instant Queue on the other hand? Appalling. Both in quantity and quality. During midterms, when I was supposed to be studying, I watched 12 episodes of "Family Ties." On a semi-unrelated note, Alex P. Keaton is adorable, and I suspect my viewing is skewed, because I definitely do not want to identify with his weird hippie parents, and I think as a college student, I'm required to. I'm definitely not supposed to identify with their capitalist, square son. Either way, I do not want those close to me know that I have watched 6 hours of "Family Ties." Straight.
Which is why this Netflix idea is kind of superb. It takes away the shame of people seeing what you're watching, both in instant online form and the DVD form. Although my mother says that I am insane (for this and other reasons), I know that I am not the only person that experiences this, this odd compulsion to not appear like a giant dork to complete strangers. I, for one, experience it constantly-- in the store, in a rental store, on the bus, on planes, on trains, in the gym, walking around, etc. If there is a chance that I might pass by a sole person, I am super conscientious about what I am reading/listening to/watching. I have an elaborate system honed for nearly every public occasion. It's an art form really. The music wasn't such an issue, until those IPOD bastards made it so it was glaringly obvious what you were listening to with brightly lit, colored pictures. Having Miley Cyrus's bright pop tart-y face pop up when my co-worker asked me what I was listening to? Embarrassing. Renting 4 Mary Kate and Ashley movies and having the guy at Blockbuster peer at me to make sure I wasn't a 9 year old, or a moron? Also embarrassing.
This is why the system is in place. Whether or not other people have a system, I don't know, but I have had friends ask me for songs that aren't humiliating to listen to at the gym, so there you go. The system's goal is to generally two-fold: 1) to get the attention/ spark interest when one would like to (aka, if there is an attractive person nearby) through a safe medium like movie rentals/music/books and 2) to send out a clear message that you are not to be bothered. Truth be told, the latter is my more typical goal. When I had to ride the bus everywhere, I got tired of creepy guys sitting next to me and asking me what I was reading, so I used to carry around feminist literature and listen to Kate Bush loudly. This will get most people off your back right away. So thank you Simone de Beavoir and Betty Friedan (and Kate Bush). This was probably antithetical to what you wanted in said Fem Lit, but I only read about 60 pages total, so who knows?
A more appealing combo? Well, this is where it gets rather complicated, as it requires you to read both the situation and the individual person. Best advice I can offer is to make sure, if you are combining mediums, to make sure they are somewhat unrelated. For instance, I would never read the Slash biography and listen to 80s hair metal at the same time. This just makes you seem weird with a drug problem. I would, however, read classic lit, maybe some Edith Wharton or EM Forster, while listening to G'N'R or Poison. Or rent a Tarantino or David Guest movie at the same time you watch a rom-com. It's not a sound system, but it makes me feel less pathetic, at least. Which, as a person who can tolerate 6 straight hours of "Family Ties" or "Charles in Charge," is a very worthy goal.
My Instant Queue on the other hand? Appalling. Both in quantity and quality. During midterms, when I was supposed to be studying, I watched 12 episodes of "Family Ties." On a semi-unrelated note, Alex P. Keaton is adorable, and I suspect my viewing is skewed, because I definitely do not want to identify with his weird hippie parents, and I think as a college student, I'm required to. I'm definitely not supposed to identify with their capitalist, square son. Either way, I do not want those close to me know that I have watched 6 hours of "Family Ties." Straight.
Which is why this Netflix idea is kind of superb. It takes away the shame of people seeing what you're watching, both in instant online form and the DVD form. Although my mother says that I am insane (for this and other reasons), I know that I am not the only person that experiences this, this odd compulsion to not appear like a giant dork to complete strangers. I, for one, experience it constantly-- in the store, in a rental store, on the bus, on planes, on trains, in the gym, walking around, etc. If there is a chance that I might pass by a sole person, I am super conscientious about what I am reading/listening to/watching. I have an elaborate system honed for nearly every public occasion. It's an art form really. The music wasn't such an issue, until those IPOD bastards made it so it was glaringly obvious what you were listening to with brightly lit, colored pictures. Having Miley Cyrus's bright pop tart-y face pop up when my co-worker asked me what I was listening to? Embarrassing. Renting 4 Mary Kate and Ashley movies and having the guy at Blockbuster peer at me to make sure I wasn't a 9 year old, or a moron? Also embarrassing.
This is why the system is in place. Whether or not other people have a system, I don't know, but I have had friends ask me for songs that aren't humiliating to listen to at the gym, so there you go. The system's goal is to generally two-fold: 1) to get the attention/ spark interest when one would like to (aka, if there is an attractive person nearby) through a safe medium like movie rentals/music/books and 2) to send out a clear message that you are not to be bothered. Truth be told, the latter is my more typical goal. When I had to ride the bus everywhere, I got tired of creepy guys sitting next to me and asking me what I was reading, so I used to carry around feminist literature and listen to Kate Bush loudly. This will get most people off your back right away. So thank you Simone de Beavoir and Betty Friedan (and Kate Bush). This was probably antithetical to what you wanted in said Fem Lit, but I only read about 60 pages total, so who knows?
A more appealing combo? Well, this is where it gets rather complicated, as it requires you to read both the situation and the individual person. Best advice I can offer is to make sure, if you are combining mediums, to make sure they are somewhat unrelated. For instance, I would never read the Slash biography and listen to 80s hair metal at the same time. This just makes you seem weird with a drug problem. I would, however, read classic lit, maybe some Edith Wharton or EM Forster, while listening to G'N'R or Poison. Or rent a Tarantino or David Guest movie at the same time you watch a rom-com. It's not a sound system, but it makes me feel less pathetic, at least. Which, as a person who can tolerate 6 straight hours of "Family Ties" or "Charles in Charge," is a very worthy goal.
Picture in Picture
So, in a glorious moment of vapidity, I agreed to go to the Twilight sequel, New Moon, at the midnight showing on opening night. It actually was not as repulsive as I expected. In fact, if I weren't more self-conscious, I'd admit to somewhat liking it, but I'm not going to go that far. ANYWAY, this post has absolutely nothing to do with Twilight except for this: In a scene (trust me this will not "ruin" the movie for anyone who actually wants to see it), Kristen Stewart (Bella) persuades two male friends of hers to forgo seeing the romantic comedy Love Spelled Backwards is Love and instead go watch an action movie called Face-Punch. I was slowly suffering through 2 hours of brooding at this point, and all I could think for the remainder of New Moon was "Boy do I wish I was watching Face-Punch right now." For one thing, I just wanted to escape the hell that is Kristen Stewart's coked-out, annoying performance. But on a whole other level, I often find myself wishing that the fake movies they talk about/advertise in TV shows and movies were real. Yes, I understand that these titles often are mentioned as a "searing" commentary on the idiocy of movies. Usually it's a bit more subtle than Face-Punch but I respect Face-Punch for its honesty. You truly know exactly what you are going to get with that one. I'd even go see Love Spelled Backwards is Love or at the very least Netflix it.
For example, Maeby Funke's Young Man and the Sea starring Jude Law (Arrested Development). That sounds glorious. Hemingway stripped of all his psychological meaning, plus Jude Law? And this was when he was crazy hot, mind you. Why isn't that a real thing? Or her British rom-com Love, Indubitably? Sure, the critics panned both, but I would definitely have seen them in the theater. Or when Adrien Grenier was going to film Aquaman? I don't watch Entourage, but I know enough to know that that was in the cards. I adore Aquaman for all of his uselessness and his extremely effeminate costume (I dressed up like him once for a high school spirit week and made it into the papers. The fact that this has been memorialized for posterity is one of my proudest accomplishments). I don't understand why this isn't real. I mean, they made that god-awful Daredevil. Plus a sequel. An Aquaman film can't possibly be more ridiculous than that. Plus, in my dream of dreams, he would have a romantic interest that was a mermaid, thereby marrying two of my most favorite ridiculous fictional characters in the world.
This all came to a head when I watched an episode of Gossip Girl a few weeks ago. I am a religious GG follower. I know, it's stupid and silly, but it's also completely wonderful. And I love mean people in television, and these characters are truly, truly wretched human beings. For a time (far too long), that one-time Disney pop-tart and horrible pop star, Hilary Duff, was guest-starring as Dan's bohemian, pretentious, Brooklynite, (yet, sweet and dull) girlfriend who was also a movie star. She was Guinevere in Endless Knights, an obvious Twilight ripoff that was "King Arthur with vampires." My Twilight hatred aside, I knew that this sounded like something I would adore, and even better, I would adore making fun of it. However, this clear gem of a film series gave Hilary Duff's character enough acting cred to scoff at her agent's newest find for her career, Bitches of Eastwick. This was described as "Heathers with witches," but like it was a bad thing! I honestly cannot think of a movie that I could love more. Do I love movies with witchcraft (especially when they don't get too serious about it)? Check. Do I love heartless teen movies? Ha ha ha! Of course. Check. Do I love Heathers more than any one born in 1988 should? Well, since no one I talk to that's my age has ever heard of Heathers, this is possibly an unfair comparison, but trust me. It's a check. I adore Heathers. I say, "What's your damage?" and, "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," constantly, and everyone looks at me like I am a giant freak. I suppose I can understand this, especially with that second part, but still.
The point is that I do not care if these smarmy Hollywood writers/directors are being facetious or tongue-in-cheek in their fake movie choices. I truly truly wish someone was out there making Face-Punch. And especially Bitches of Eastwick. I mean, if you are going to force me to sit and watch that sucrose, diabetic coma inducing crap that is The Holiday, at least have the decency to really produce that James Franco and Lindsay Lohan spy movie you show the trailer for in the film. (Seriously... how fantastic would a spy movie with James Franco and Lindsay Lohan be? It's my every dream come true. Even better if Leonardo DiCaprio is thrown into the mix.) Besides I think they should really look at what they are putting out there. If the fake movie you are making fun of seems infinitely better than the real movie you've produced, clearly you have some problems.
For example, Maeby Funke's Young Man and the Sea starring Jude Law (Arrested Development). That sounds glorious. Hemingway stripped of all his psychological meaning, plus Jude Law? And this was when he was crazy hot, mind you. Why isn't that a real thing? Or her British rom-com Love, Indubitably? Sure, the critics panned both, but I would definitely have seen them in the theater. Or when Adrien Grenier was going to film Aquaman? I don't watch Entourage, but I know enough to know that that was in the cards. I adore Aquaman for all of his uselessness and his extremely effeminate costume (I dressed up like him once for a high school spirit week and made it into the papers. The fact that this has been memorialized for posterity is one of my proudest accomplishments). I don't understand why this isn't real. I mean, they made that god-awful Daredevil. Plus a sequel. An Aquaman film can't possibly be more ridiculous than that. Plus, in my dream of dreams, he would have a romantic interest that was a mermaid, thereby marrying two of my most favorite ridiculous fictional characters in the world.
This all came to a head when I watched an episode of Gossip Girl a few weeks ago. I am a religious GG follower. I know, it's stupid and silly, but it's also completely wonderful. And I love mean people in television, and these characters are truly, truly wretched human beings. For a time (far too long), that one-time Disney pop-tart and horrible pop star, Hilary Duff, was guest-starring as Dan's bohemian, pretentious, Brooklynite, (yet, sweet and dull) girlfriend who was also a movie star. She was Guinevere in Endless Knights, an obvious Twilight ripoff that was "King Arthur with vampires." My Twilight hatred aside, I knew that this sounded like something I would adore, and even better, I would adore making fun of it. However, this clear gem of a film series gave Hilary Duff's character enough acting cred to scoff at her agent's newest find for her career, Bitches of Eastwick. This was described as "Heathers with witches," but like it was a bad thing! I honestly cannot think of a movie that I could love more. Do I love movies with witchcraft (especially when they don't get too serious about it)? Check. Do I love heartless teen movies? Ha ha ha! Of course. Check. Do I love Heathers more than any one born in 1988 should? Well, since no one I talk to that's my age has ever heard of Heathers, this is possibly an unfair comparison, but trust me. It's a check. I adore Heathers. I say, "What's your damage?" and, "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," constantly, and everyone looks at me like I am a giant freak. I suppose I can understand this, especially with that second part, but still.
The point is that I do not care if these smarmy Hollywood writers/directors are being facetious or tongue-in-cheek in their fake movie choices. I truly truly wish someone was out there making Face-Punch. And especially Bitches of Eastwick. I mean, if you are going to force me to sit and watch that sucrose, diabetic coma inducing crap that is The Holiday, at least have the decency to really produce that James Franco and Lindsay Lohan spy movie you show the trailer for in the film. (Seriously... how fantastic would a spy movie with James Franco and Lindsay Lohan be? It's my every dream come true. Even better if Leonardo DiCaprio is thrown into the mix.) Besides I think they should really look at what they are putting out there. If the fake movie you are making fun of seems infinitely better than the real movie you've produced, clearly you have some problems.
Must . . . Have . . . Closure
I have my fair share of crazy quirks. Among the crazier is that I get incredibly emotional when I watch TV series finales. Oh sure, everyone gets a little teary when their favorite shows end, but that's not what I'm talking about here. I mean I start bawling. And I am not a crier, not at all. But pop in the final "Friends" episode, and I will be sobbing. One of the most humiliating examples has got to be when I was in high school, and I was flipping through the channels while babysitting and the "Dawson's Creek" finale was on. I watched all two hours through tear-filled eyes. And that was my first time ever watching this show. I had no emotional investment in the show or characters or anything. And probably if I were to study this psychologically, it would be a fear of change or loss of the familiar. blah blah blah. But I think I'm just a little bit of an emotional schizophrenic.
So because of this odd love of the series finale, I feel a little gypped when the networks don't give me one. Or a satisfactory one. I've near come to terms with the fact that if I really love a show ("Pushing Daisies" "Arrested Development" "Veronica Mars" "Freaks and Geeks" etc), then it will probably be pulled off the air. Well, except for "Pushing Daisies" because that wound is still too fresh. HOWEVER, if a network is going to pull an excellent show off the air, well then by God, the least they can do is give it a good sendoff. A great series finale should accomplish 4 things:
1) Wrap up any major plotlines, or at the very least hint at a resolution to most major plotlines
2) Be of the same calibre, writing and acting, as the show has been thus far
3) Connect the end with the beginning--- i.e. (brief) flashes of the earlier show. Just enough to remind you what is important/poignant to the characters and viewers
4) Be a little schmaltzy. I'm not a huge fan of cheese, but a little sentimentality goes a long way.
I don't feel like I'm asking for the stars here. Many series finales manage this. One of the most perfect series finales was this past season's "Scrubs." Which as it turned out, is not the actual series finale, but they're getting rid of the main character and changing the format, so I'm planning on just renaming the new "Scrubs" in my head. ANYWAY. "Scrubs" gave its main character the perfect goodbye. Sweet, funny, and perfectly clear and concise. You knew exactly why JD was leaving, where he was going, and how it was going to affect the "Scrubs" world. And I, an avid "Scrubs" fan of many a year, cried buckets. Of course. I was at work, and I was sobbing. I worked at a lounge in a hotel, and I was very much in public. Mortifying does not even describe the level of embarrassment that series finale caused me. A guest came down for a soda and thought I was have an emotional breakdown, which in retrospect, probably wasn't good for the hotel's image. Oh well, it's too late to do anything about that.
And I'm not sorry about it. THAT is what a series finale should do. Loyal viewers of a TV show have invested anywhere between 1 and 10 years in it and in its characters. It's a little disgusting how much pop culture characters have become part of everyday life, but that's exactly what happened, and TV characters are the most involved, because you see them every week. The fact that so many shows are just cut and left out to dry is a shame. For instance, back to "Pushing Daisies," a show that may be my favorite of all time. ABC cancelled it mid-to-end of the second season. Thank God they decided to air the rest of the second season, because I was ready to buy a plane ticket to California and punch the ABC president in the junk. And I don't think he would have grounds to be upset. But anyway, "Pushing Daisies'" Bryan Fuller knew the end was coming, so he tagged a wrap up that was clear and poetic onto the last episode. But it was a 30 second wrap up, and it left a great deal of things unwrapped.
Of course, making television shows is incredibly expensive, so I get why sometimes networks can't afford to tie up everything in a nice little bow, but I think they should make the effort. Shit happens. Stuff changes. Questions are left unanswered, but they shouldn't on TV. TV should be a haven. Do you think I would love a TV show about a piemaker who has the power to wake the dead because it keeps me tied to the real world? Absolutely not. (Which is, by the way, why I hate documentaries and when TV decides to be ecologically/socially conscious. Gag me) And when said piemaker, or the scrappy blonde teenage detective, or a highly dysfunctional rich family, or a misfit group of potheads and nerds leave me, because they aren't real, I have the right to know what's going to happen to them. I shouldn't have to worry that they'll never be reunited with the father that deserted them or they don't end up with the loves of their lives. I should feel safe in the knowledge that they are going to be ok. That's what TV should do. So when, this year, some fantastic show inevitably gets cancelled because it couldn't compete with something patently pathetic like "America's Biggest Loser" (answer-- whoever's watching this show! Yahtzee!), it better end in a fabulous way, or else. Because if not, I'm putting the word out. The Television Revolution is coming my friends. The People with Taste are going to be taking over, and we're getting what's ours. Including the answers to what happened to the "Black Donnellys."
So because of this odd love of the series finale, I feel a little gypped when the networks don't give me one. Or a satisfactory one. I've near come to terms with the fact that if I really love a show ("Pushing Daisies" "Arrested Development" "Veronica Mars" "Freaks and Geeks" etc), then it will probably be pulled off the air. Well, except for "Pushing Daisies" because that wound is still too fresh. HOWEVER, if a network is going to pull an excellent show off the air, well then by God, the least they can do is give it a good sendoff. A great series finale should accomplish 4 things:
1) Wrap up any major plotlines, or at the very least hint at a resolution to most major plotlines
2) Be of the same calibre, writing and acting, as the show has been thus far
3) Connect the end with the beginning--- i.e. (brief) flashes of the earlier show. Just enough to remind you what is important/poignant to the characters and viewers
4) Be a little schmaltzy. I'm not a huge fan of cheese, but a little sentimentality goes a long way.
I don't feel like I'm asking for the stars here. Many series finales manage this. One of the most perfect series finales was this past season's "Scrubs." Which as it turned out, is not the actual series finale, but they're getting rid of the main character and changing the format, so I'm planning on just renaming the new "Scrubs" in my head. ANYWAY. "Scrubs" gave its main character the perfect goodbye. Sweet, funny, and perfectly clear and concise. You knew exactly why JD was leaving, where he was going, and how it was going to affect the "Scrubs" world. And I, an avid "Scrubs" fan of many a year, cried buckets. Of course. I was at work, and I was sobbing. I worked at a lounge in a hotel, and I was very much in public. Mortifying does not even describe the level of embarrassment that series finale caused me. A guest came down for a soda and thought I was have an emotional breakdown, which in retrospect, probably wasn't good for the hotel's image. Oh well, it's too late to do anything about that.
And I'm not sorry about it. THAT is what a series finale should do. Loyal viewers of a TV show have invested anywhere between 1 and 10 years in it and in its characters. It's a little disgusting how much pop culture characters have become part of everyday life, but that's exactly what happened, and TV characters are the most involved, because you see them every week. The fact that so many shows are just cut and left out to dry is a shame. For instance, back to "Pushing Daisies," a show that may be my favorite of all time. ABC cancelled it mid-to-end of the second season. Thank God they decided to air the rest of the second season, because I was ready to buy a plane ticket to California and punch the ABC president in the junk. And I don't think he would have grounds to be upset. But anyway, "Pushing Daisies'" Bryan Fuller knew the end was coming, so he tagged a wrap up that was clear and poetic onto the last episode. But it was a 30 second wrap up, and it left a great deal of things unwrapped.
Of course, making television shows is incredibly expensive, so I get why sometimes networks can't afford to tie up everything in a nice little bow, but I think they should make the effort. Shit happens. Stuff changes. Questions are left unanswered, but they shouldn't on TV. TV should be a haven. Do you think I would love a TV show about a piemaker who has the power to wake the dead because it keeps me tied to the real world? Absolutely not. (Which is, by the way, why I hate documentaries and when TV decides to be ecologically/socially conscious. Gag me) And when said piemaker, or the scrappy blonde teenage detective, or a highly dysfunctional rich family, or a misfit group of potheads and nerds leave me, because they aren't real, I have the right to know what's going to happen to them. I shouldn't have to worry that they'll never be reunited with the father that deserted them or they don't end up with the loves of their lives. I should feel safe in the knowledge that they are going to be ok. That's what TV should do. So when, this year, some fantastic show inevitably gets cancelled because it couldn't compete with something patently pathetic like "America's Biggest Loser" (answer-- whoever's watching this show! Yahtzee!), it better end in a fabulous way, or else. Because if not, I'm putting the word out. The Television Revolution is coming my friends. The People with Taste are going to be taking over, and we're getting what's ours. Including the answers to what happened to the "Black Donnellys."
Fun With Bad Movie Schadenfreude
This is unkind of me, but I derive this sick pleasure when I see star actors in really, really awful things they made in their career. Schadenfreude, sure, but I think it's more than that. It's like I know a secret about them. And it tends to make me dislike them a little less. I see pouty Megan Fox flitting about, being far too conscious of her hotness, and all I have to think about is the Mary Kate and Ashley movie "Holiday in the Sun." Fox played the rich snob who tried to steal Ashley's fella on the twins' vacation to Atlantis resort in the Caribbean. Then, in a third act that came from nowhere, the twins uncover a pirating ring. Yeah. That happened. Enjoy having that on your resume, Megan Fox. But it earned you a pass from me for some of your general obnoxiousness. (Also, for you "House" fans out there-- that hot Australian dude? Also in a Mary Kate and Ashley movie-- "Winning London." He was a son of a lord who liked Mary Kate and they both were overachieving UN ambassadors. He is in one of the most revolting romantic scenes I've ever seen, where he asks Mary Kate to fly away with him, because he wants to be Peter Pan.)
Of course, I understand that actors have to pay their dues, blah di blah. And I don't count when A-listers turn up in these 80s horror B-movies. Frankly, I think the line between good horror and bad horror is very very minuscule, so I usually don't hold it against them. And Johnny Depp was super cute in "Nightmare on Elm Street." Basically, it just can't compare to seeing an A-lister in something so out of left field. Case in point, this weekend, I was in studying, and flipping through the channels, because I don't like to actually pay attention to what I'm studying. I stopped when I come across Katherine Heigl in "Little House on the Prairie" garb, ringing a bell on the front porch and calling her family into dinner. (A family in which January Jones, Betty Draper from "Mad Men" is her stepdaugter, despite her being older than Katherine). Then Katherine Heigl started praying with her family. It took me about twenty minutes before I realized that Katherine Heigl and January Jones were in a Bible Network movie. Now it's possible that both these actresses are good Christian girls (I mean, I don't think it's likely, but it's possible). But to put this in perspective, the last movie I saw Katherine Heigl in, she had sex in a hot-air balloon. In the one before that, she had pregnant sex with Seth Rogen. In both of these, she cursed like a drunken sailor. And January Jones? She committed adultery in the bathroom hallway of a bar. She was in one of the "American Pie" movies. From what I can tell from their later careers, neither of these actresses are the kind who pray constantly about "Love's Enduring Promise" from God. Although, to be fair, they were both pretty decent in it, but I didn't finish it because they literally said "God's Enduring Promise" (or "Love's) about seven times in the first half hour. Still, they hooked me for a whole hour, mostly because it was so surreal to see these two actresses in these roles. Something similar happened when I saw Anne Hathaway star in what turned out to be a Mormon movie, although for some reason, that was less jarring. She just seems so wholesome. Even in that movie where she was a crack addict.
Now, I have to come out about something really embarrassing about myself to really hammer this point home. I watch "Barbie" movies. You know, the CGI animated fairy tale movies starring Barbie. I started watching them with some baby-sitting charges, ok? I don't need the judgment. When it comes down to Barbie or "Teletubbies" you tell me what comes out on top. Anyway, the remarkable thing about the Barbie movies is that from time to time, there are "real" actors voicing characters. Of course, Barbie's voice remains eternally that effervescent, sugar-coated squeal one would imagine a Barbie sounding like. But Tim Curry, Kelsey Grammar, Anjelica Huston, Martin Short, and Catherine O'Hara (of "Best in Show") have all lent their voices to a Barbie movie (Tim Curry has for two). Now, these aren't released in theaters, and there's not a giant market for them. And I love 'em, but all of the movies are dumb as bags of rocks. The first time I saw one, I spent the entire film saying "Is this Tim Curry? This can't be Tim Curry," which meant nothing to the four and seven year old girls I was babysitting. But I had to ask myself where all these people went wrong? Yes, they're actors and they "transform" themselves, but I think one would have to have a partial lobotomy to jump from playing Pennywise in "Stephen King's IT" to playing the Rat King in "Barbie and the Nutcracker." The man has three Tony nominations, for heaven's sake. How did he find himself here, making TWO Barbie movies? How does Megan Fox get away with pretending she wasn't in the worst Mary Kate and Ashley movie of all time (that's right, I ranked them by merit)? This could go on and on. Jeremy Irons is Alfred Steiglitz in a Lifetime movie about Georgia O'Keefe. While this doesn't seem so bad, the commercials for it are in between commercials for another Lifetime movie called "A Stranger Has My Face" (incidentally my new favorite title for anything), which seems to be "A Parent Trap" but made over as a horror movie. How do these people bounce back from it? Do they just make the movies and never watch them? Are they blessed with an ignorance to their film's awfulness? Most importantly, WHY ISN'T EVERYONE ON THE PLANET REMINDING THEM?! If I knew Megan Fox personally, I would remind her daily. That's probably why she would justifiably hate me. But still, it's like knowing for certain that the snotty cheerleader in your school was the ones writing into Seventeen Magazine's Most Embarrassing Moments column about how she farted in class in front of the hottest guy in school. I think that's the closest emotional equivalent. I'm not the only one out there to love this feeling, so why aren't more people savoring it?
Actually the more I think about it, the more I believe that partial lobotomies are being utilized in Hollywood. Think about how much that would explain away. Like pretty much everything about Cameron Diaz. Or Paris Hilton.
PS-- I just remembered this. Katherine Heigl has starred in two of my favorite idiotic movies. A made for MTV modern interpretation of "Wuthering Heights" that pretty much ruined the Bronte book for me forever. Also, an extremely inappropriate Disney channel movie called "Wish Upon a Star." Katherine Heigl, the trampy sister, trades bodies with her nerd sister, and as an act of revenge, dances on the tables of their high school cafeteria in an ensemble that is a step away from fetish wear while in her sister's body. And I saw this on the Disney channel
Of course, I understand that actors have to pay their dues, blah di blah. And I don't count when A-listers turn up in these 80s horror B-movies. Frankly, I think the line between good horror and bad horror is very very minuscule, so I usually don't hold it against them. And Johnny Depp was super cute in "Nightmare on Elm Street." Basically, it just can't compare to seeing an A-lister in something so out of left field. Case in point, this weekend, I was in studying, and flipping through the channels, because I don't like to actually pay attention to what I'm studying. I stopped when I come across Katherine Heigl in "Little House on the Prairie" garb, ringing a bell on the front porch and calling her family into dinner. (A family in which January Jones, Betty Draper from "Mad Men" is her stepdaugter, despite her being older than Katherine). Then Katherine Heigl started praying with her family. It took me about twenty minutes before I realized that Katherine Heigl and January Jones were in a Bible Network movie. Now it's possible that both these actresses are good Christian girls (I mean, I don't think it's likely, but it's possible). But to put this in perspective, the last movie I saw Katherine Heigl in, she had sex in a hot-air balloon. In the one before that, she had pregnant sex with Seth Rogen. In both of these, she cursed like a drunken sailor. And January Jones? She committed adultery in the bathroom hallway of a bar. She was in one of the "American Pie" movies. From what I can tell from their later careers, neither of these actresses are the kind who pray constantly about "Love's Enduring Promise" from God. Although, to be fair, they were both pretty decent in it, but I didn't finish it because they literally said "God's Enduring Promise" (or "Love's) about seven times in the first half hour. Still, they hooked me for a whole hour, mostly because it was so surreal to see these two actresses in these roles. Something similar happened when I saw Anne Hathaway star in what turned out to be a Mormon movie, although for some reason, that was less jarring. She just seems so wholesome. Even in that movie where she was a crack addict.
Now, I have to come out about something really embarrassing about myself to really hammer this point home. I watch "Barbie" movies. You know, the CGI animated fairy tale movies starring Barbie. I started watching them with some baby-sitting charges, ok? I don't need the judgment. When it comes down to Barbie or "Teletubbies" you tell me what comes out on top. Anyway, the remarkable thing about the Barbie movies is that from time to time, there are "real" actors voicing characters. Of course, Barbie's voice remains eternally that effervescent, sugar-coated squeal one would imagine a Barbie sounding like. But Tim Curry, Kelsey Grammar, Anjelica Huston, Martin Short, and Catherine O'Hara (of "Best in Show") have all lent their voices to a Barbie movie (Tim Curry has for two). Now, these aren't released in theaters, and there's not a giant market for them. And I love 'em, but all of the movies are dumb as bags of rocks. The first time I saw one, I spent the entire film saying "Is this Tim Curry? This can't be Tim Curry," which meant nothing to the four and seven year old girls I was babysitting. But I had to ask myself where all these people went wrong? Yes, they're actors and they "transform" themselves, but I think one would have to have a partial lobotomy to jump from playing Pennywise in "Stephen King's IT" to playing the Rat King in "Barbie and the Nutcracker." The man has three Tony nominations, for heaven's sake. How did he find himself here, making TWO Barbie movies? How does Megan Fox get away with pretending she wasn't in the worst Mary Kate and Ashley movie of all time (that's right, I ranked them by merit)? This could go on and on. Jeremy Irons is Alfred Steiglitz in a Lifetime movie about Georgia O'Keefe. While this doesn't seem so bad, the commercials for it are in between commercials for another Lifetime movie called "A Stranger Has My Face" (incidentally my new favorite title for anything), which seems to be "A Parent Trap" but made over as a horror movie. How do these people bounce back from it? Do they just make the movies and never watch them? Are they blessed with an ignorance to their film's awfulness? Most importantly, WHY ISN'T EVERYONE ON THE PLANET REMINDING THEM?! If I knew Megan Fox personally, I would remind her daily. That's probably why she would justifiably hate me. But still, it's like knowing for certain that the snotty cheerleader in your school was the ones writing into Seventeen Magazine's Most Embarrassing Moments column about how she farted in class in front of the hottest guy in school. I think that's the closest emotional equivalent. I'm not the only one out there to love this feeling, so why aren't more people savoring it?
Actually the more I think about it, the more I believe that partial lobotomies are being utilized in Hollywood. Think about how much that would explain away. Like pretty much everything about Cameron Diaz. Or Paris Hilton.
PS-- I just remembered this. Katherine Heigl has starred in two of my favorite idiotic movies. A made for MTV modern interpretation of "Wuthering Heights" that pretty much ruined the Bronte book for me forever. Also, an extremely inappropriate Disney channel movie called "Wish Upon a Star." Katherine Heigl, the trampy sister, trades bodies with her nerd sister, and as an act of revenge, dances on the tables of their high school cafeteria in an ensemble that is a step away from fetish wear while in her sister's body. And I saw this on the Disney channel
The Vampires Finally Get Chess
Those damn vampires won me over.
I have been fighting this fight for many years now. I've just never been a vampire person. Aside from reading too much in public and looking kicking in black, I've never had an angsty goth phase. And for the most part, I've never had the "bad boy" fascination. In TV and movie love triangles, I always found myself alone in rooting for the hot but admittedly vanilla guy, so this overly eroticized fascination with vampires just never did it for me. Plus, I'm squeamish. That really is the most basic reason. I hate blood. I hate blood in movies and television and books more than I do in real life, so watching pale people feast on humans, slurping up spurting blood just doesn't appeal to me. I don't think that's unreasonable. Besides, the people, (by people I mean, of course teen girls and silly women), who have a vampire thing always struck me as the kind of people that don't like to admit that their favorite books are romance novels. Because that is what vampire books are, after all.
And I truly truly hate the Twilight series. Lord, do I hate it. It's the type of book that makes me genuinely angry that such crap can be published. And not only was it published, it was glorified. It went flying off shelves. It's a multi-million dollar "phenomenon" that forces me to despise the general public for adoring what is essentially a very poorly written, water-downed version of every romantic book ever. Plus vampires. And a heroine that makes the more traditional of the Jane Austen women seem like post-modern feminists. I won't rant about this for too much longer, because I could go on and on for days. I was forced to read the whole series, and clearly, I resent that fact. But since I know that people inexplicably love it, I'll sum it up to "Don't get me started on the Twilight series. I despise it. And Robert Pattinson always shows up to major events unwashed, and I suspect he and Kristen Stewart could be clinically diagnosed as sociopaths."
That being said, I finally went over to "The Dark Side" (har har) about a month ago, and it's all "True Blood's" and "The Vampire Diaries'" fault. First, "True Blood," is fantastic. Yes, it takes too much advantage of it's HBOness, and wanders happily and needlessly into the realm of softcore porn far too often. But once you figure out a way to ignore that fact, it is wonderful. Smart, surprising, a hell of a cast. Excellent in incorporating the modern world into the world of vampires, who in the series have "Come out of the coffin," and are, legally at least, accepted as (nearly) equal citizens.
Ok, it's probably hypocritical of me to deride Twilight when I like "The Vampire Diaries" so much. But my excuse is that sappy, hokey things are ten times worse when you see it written down, and I haven't and will never read the "Vampire Diaries" books, so it's getting a pass. Twilight lovers, deal with it. Besides, the actor who plays Stefan, the sexy brooding overly sensitive teen vampire in "Diaries," is far better at this role than RPattz is, and doesn't look hungover all the time. Bonus. Plus, the bad vampire is Boone from "Lost" who I loved and missed desperately.
Anyway, I love both these shows for three basic reasons:
1) They've finally managed to make the vampires sexy to me. I don't know how they managed it, but they did. Maybe because for once, I'm not having to pretend this 23 year old male pop tart is world-worn and has the wisdom of hundreds of years. (This is not necessarily directed at you, Robert Pattinson. Well, hell. I take that back. Yes it is.). "The Vampire Diaries" is based on teen romances, but again, the actors in it are much better at being vampires. And I personally find them more attractive. I think it's because in both shows, the vampires have the right amount of "bad boyness." Just the right touch of danger, without hitting you over the head with it. Edward Cullen is a bit of a pansy in comparison. And he's always doing grossly cheesy things, like playing songs on the piano that he wrote for his beloved. He kind of reminds me of Mikhail Baryshnikov in "Sex in the City," who was always spouting poetry and dancing in the streets. Sorry, I love romance as much as the next girl, but Carrie was right. These things just don't fly anymore.
2) Both these shows are, at times, legitimately scary. I don't like to out myself for being that much of a horror wuss, but yes, both these shows scare me.
3) They have a very firm grasp on their Vampire Lore. And they utilize the lore that has been widely known for centuries.
That last one is again pointed at the Twilight series. I like lore. I've disappointed my parents by wasting time and taking college classes in it. And what has always driven me crazy about Vampire Lore is that people just make their own shit up. There's no definitive source. Sometimes stakes and crosses are deadly, sometimes the vampires literally laugh at that idea. Sometimes they sleep in coffins, sometimes they don't sleep at all. Sometimes sunlight kills vampires, sometimes it does nothing but make your skin "sparkle like thousands of tiny diamonds." (Twilight). Blech. No, these shows don't decide to ignore a bunch of thousand year old traditions and make up its own extremely corny ones. Both these shows, for instance, make a point of the concept that a vampire can't enter a mortal's house without being invited inside. I've always loved this idea, I think it's lovely. I don't really know why. It's just so courteous.
So yeah. Despite my best efforts, I've become a vampire-liker. I'm hoping that this doesn't development into other weird things, like reading McSweeney's or wearing too much plaid. (Ok, I do read McSweeney's, but not regularly. Get off my case, peeps.) Or starting to love fantasy, and liking werewolves. Maybe it's "Teen Wolf's" fault, but werewolves always struck me as kind of dorky. But since I've accepted the fact that I'm a vampire-liker, I would like some questions answered, so I'm not so in-the-dark. Questions that have bothered me for years and years.
1) If becoming a vampire makes you really pale, what happens to black/Hispanic/other non-Caucasian ethnicities? Is it just a matter of being out of the sun, or does your skin pigment change because of the vampirism?
2) My friend told me that becoming a vampire sort of freezes you in the appearance in which you were "vampirized." Does this mean no haircuts? I assume that since you would be dead, your hair won't grow, but what about color? What if you made a really unfortunate dye or cut decision? Are you really stuck this way forever? Because that would suck. You'd have to wear wigs all the time. And what if you're fat? Are you stuck being fat? Because I think a diet of solely blood ought to slim you down. And who ever heard of a fat vampire?
3) My sister actually came up with this one, but now I've been wondering it. Let's say you're a vampire, and someone falls asleep on your arm for a few hours. Does it fall asleep? Or does this sensation not affect vampires? Does it feel weird when people hit your funny bone? If you were ticklish in life, do you remain ticklish? I guess, in short, what sensations stay with you when you become an Undead?
Those are the main questions. And I guess I should apologize to any Twilight lovers out there. Nothing against you personally. I know a bunch, and they are all lovely, moderately intelligent and clever people, aside from that knack. You all probably are too. And who knows? Maybe now that I'm a vampire convert, I'll join the Twilight fervor cult. I confess that I was persuaded to buy my midnight show ticket of New Moon in advance. Then again, I'm dreading that fresh hell. So there are limits.
I have been fighting this fight for many years now. I've just never been a vampire person. Aside from reading too much in public and looking kicking in black, I've never had an angsty goth phase. And for the most part, I've never had the "bad boy" fascination. In TV and movie love triangles, I always found myself alone in rooting for the hot but admittedly vanilla guy, so this overly eroticized fascination with vampires just never did it for me. Plus, I'm squeamish. That really is the most basic reason. I hate blood. I hate blood in movies and television and books more than I do in real life, so watching pale people feast on humans, slurping up spurting blood just doesn't appeal to me. I don't think that's unreasonable. Besides, the people, (by people I mean, of course teen girls and silly women), who have a vampire thing always struck me as the kind of people that don't like to admit that their favorite books are romance novels. Because that is what vampire books are, after all.
And I truly truly hate the Twilight series. Lord, do I hate it. It's the type of book that makes me genuinely angry that such crap can be published. And not only was it published, it was glorified. It went flying off shelves. It's a multi-million dollar "phenomenon" that forces me to despise the general public for adoring what is essentially a very poorly written, water-downed version of every romantic book ever. Plus vampires. And a heroine that makes the more traditional of the Jane Austen women seem like post-modern feminists. I won't rant about this for too much longer, because I could go on and on for days. I was forced to read the whole series, and clearly, I resent that fact. But since I know that people inexplicably love it, I'll sum it up to "Don't get me started on the Twilight series. I despise it. And Robert Pattinson always shows up to major events unwashed, and I suspect he and Kristen Stewart could be clinically diagnosed as sociopaths."
That being said, I finally went over to "The Dark Side" (har har) about a month ago, and it's all "True Blood's" and "The Vampire Diaries'" fault. First, "True Blood," is fantastic. Yes, it takes too much advantage of it's HBOness, and wanders happily and needlessly into the realm of softcore porn far too often. But once you figure out a way to ignore that fact, it is wonderful. Smart, surprising, a hell of a cast. Excellent in incorporating the modern world into the world of vampires, who in the series have "Come out of the coffin," and are, legally at least, accepted as (nearly) equal citizens.
Ok, it's probably hypocritical of me to deride Twilight when I like "The Vampire Diaries" so much. But my excuse is that sappy, hokey things are ten times worse when you see it written down, and I haven't and will never read the "Vampire Diaries" books, so it's getting a pass. Twilight lovers, deal with it. Besides, the actor who plays Stefan, the sexy brooding overly sensitive teen vampire in "Diaries," is far better at this role than RPattz is, and doesn't look hungover all the time. Bonus. Plus, the bad vampire is Boone from "Lost" who I loved and missed desperately.
Anyway, I love both these shows for three basic reasons:
1) They've finally managed to make the vampires sexy to me. I don't know how they managed it, but they did. Maybe because for once, I'm not having to pretend this 23 year old male pop tart is world-worn and has the wisdom of hundreds of years. (This is not necessarily directed at you, Robert Pattinson. Well, hell. I take that back. Yes it is.). "The Vampire Diaries" is based on teen romances, but again, the actors in it are much better at being vampires. And I personally find them more attractive. I think it's because in both shows, the vampires have the right amount of "bad boyness." Just the right touch of danger, without hitting you over the head with it. Edward Cullen is a bit of a pansy in comparison. And he's always doing grossly cheesy things, like playing songs on the piano that he wrote for his beloved. He kind of reminds me of Mikhail Baryshnikov in "Sex in the City," who was always spouting poetry and dancing in the streets. Sorry, I love romance as much as the next girl, but Carrie was right. These things just don't fly anymore.
2) Both these shows are, at times, legitimately scary. I don't like to out myself for being that much of a horror wuss, but yes, both these shows scare me.
3) They have a very firm grasp on their Vampire Lore. And they utilize the lore that has been widely known for centuries.
That last one is again pointed at the Twilight series. I like lore. I've disappointed my parents by wasting time and taking college classes in it. And what has always driven me crazy about Vampire Lore is that people just make their own shit up. There's no definitive source. Sometimes stakes and crosses are deadly, sometimes the vampires literally laugh at that idea. Sometimes they sleep in coffins, sometimes they don't sleep at all. Sometimes sunlight kills vampires, sometimes it does nothing but make your skin "sparkle like thousands of tiny diamonds." (Twilight). Blech. No, these shows don't decide to ignore a bunch of thousand year old traditions and make up its own extremely corny ones. Both these shows, for instance, make a point of the concept that a vampire can't enter a mortal's house without being invited inside. I've always loved this idea, I think it's lovely. I don't really know why. It's just so courteous.
So yeah. Despite my best efforts, I've become a vampire-liker. I'm hoping that this doesn't development into other weird things, like reading McSweeney's or wearing too much plaid. (Ok, I do read McSweeney's, but not regularly. Get off my case, peeps.) Or starting to love fantasy, and liking werewolves. Maybe it's "Teen Wolf's" fault, but werewolves always struck me as kind of dorky. But since I've accepted the fact that I'm a vampire-liker, I would like some questions answered, so I'm not so in-the-dark. Questions that have bothered me for years and years.
1) If becoming a vampire makes you really pale, what happens to black/Hispanic/other non-Caucasian ethnicities? Is it just a matter of being out of the sun, or does your skin pigment change because of the vampirism?
2) My friend told me that becoming a vampire sort of freezes you in the appearance in which you were "vampirized." Does this mean no haircuts? I assume that since you would be dead, your hair won't grow, but what about color? What if you made a really unfortunate dye or cut decision? Are you really stuck this way forever? Because that would suck. You'd have to wear wigs all the time. And what if you're fat? Are you stuck being fat? Because I think a diet of solely blood ought to slim you down. And who ever heard of a fat vampire?
3) My sister actually came up with this one, but now I've been wondering it. Let's say you're a vampire, and someone falls asleep on your arm for a few hours. Does it fall asleep? Or does this sensation not affect vampires? Does it feel weird when people hit your funny bone? If you were ticklish in life, do you remain ticklish? I guess, in short, what sensations stay with you when you become an Undead?
Those are the main questions. And I guess I should apologize to any Twilight lovers out there. Nothing against you personally. I know a bunch, and they are all lovely, moderately intelligent and clever people, aside from that knack. You all probably are too. And who knows? Maybe now that I'm a vampire convert, I'll join the Twilight fervor cult. I confess that I was persuaded to buy my midnight show ticket of New Moon in advance. Then again, I'm dreading that fresh hell. So there are limits.
The Dumbing-Down of the American Actress (If That's Possible)
I fear that we're using the term "actress" too loosely now a days. This may seem as if it's coming out of left field, and by no means do I support the idea of the term "female actors," mostly because I find it pretentious, obnoxious, and solely used by women who fill both these traits. (Sorry Meryl. I don't mean you. You of course, are a genius.)
ANYWAY, what I'm saying is that the moniker "actress" is being handed out like gold stars in preschool. I was reading Entertainment Weekly (garbage), and I found an article about "Actress" Tawny Kitaen's DUI arrest. Of course, my reaction was, "That can't possibly mean the Whitesnake chick. There must be some other Tawny Kitaen" which frankly was an idiotic reaction, because how many people do you come across named Tawny Kitaen? So, upon light research, I discovered that "Actress" Tawny Kitaen did in fact have some semblance of an acting career, co-starring in a movie with Tom Hanks, starring in an awful sounding 80s horror movie called "Witchboard." (Here's the youtube video of the trailer. Watch. It's glorious. I absolutely wish I lived in the 80s so I could have seen this and been snarky. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irIYCACQnVk&feature=PlayList&p=EEEAFB581FA63AF2&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=8). She was also guest-starred in Seinfeld, Married with Children, and "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" and starred in "The New WKRP in Cincinnati". However, all this is not enough to persuade me that Tawny Kitaen was an actress, and she is not the only one.
This isn't some sort of feminazi stand. I just happen to believe that if your sole purpose in everything you've acted in is "being hot," you can't really be considered an actress. So, instead of writing my Medieval Figure Arts paper, I've compiled a list of women guilty of accepting (or in some cases, actively promoting) this title while absolutely undeserving of it. As follows:
1. Tyra Banks-- Oh Tyra, Tyra, Tyra. You spent oh so many episodes of "America's Next Top Model" pushing the idea that you were an actress. But I actually shamefully saw both "Lifesize" and "Halloween Resurrection." Absolutely not.
2. Anyone who has starred on "The Hills," "Laguna Beach" or any other MTV reality show (with some "Real World" exceptions)-- OK. I absolutely believe that these shows are 97% unreal, and these people are in fact acting the whole time they're on camera. But the instant they wander off of their reality shows and onto a set, they somehow lose their 24/7 experience, and are awful. And well, they aren't THAT great at acting as themselves.
3. Megan Fox-- Sorry uber-nerds out there. This is true. Standing around in ass-exposing jorts does not constitute acting. And the season premiere of "SNL" proved that while Megan Fox may be surreally hot (despite the fact that the girl cannot dress herself), she is NOT an actress.
4. Ashlee Simpson-Wentz-- This is ridiculous. I didn't even know she was attempting to act until I saw the pilot of the new "Melrose Place." She is truly truly awful. And she's apparently awful on MELROSE. That's a whole new bottom level, my friends.
5. Jessica Simpson-- My friends will tell you she's just on here because I despise her. This is undeniable. But because I love trashy movies, I've seen three of hers, and I cannot for the life of me understand why she is cast for anything. Don't believe me? Watch "Blonde Ambition." Easily the worst, most unenjoyable movie experience of my life. And that includes when I saw Peter Jackson's "King Kong" and sat behind an obese man that farted every ten minutes of the three hour movie.
6. Kim Kardashian-- oh Kim. I think you are so trashy, and so gorgeous. Just accept that your celebrity is entirely fueled by your trashiness and stop trying to act.
7. Paris Hilton-- Speaking of trashiness. Now, I have to admit that I LOVE both "House of Wax" and "The Hottie and the Nottie." Yes I am one of five people that saw "The Hottie and the Nottie" and let me tell you, it is a treasure trove. But I loved both of these BECAUSE Paris was so awful. Emotions are so foreign to her face that I honestly believe that in her 20 plus years, the only emotion she's experienced is vacant complacency. And yes, when I saw "House of Wax" in theaters, people did in fact cheer when she died.
So there you go. There are of course, many many more, but I really should do some homework, so I'm stopping here. If anyone out there is reading this, feel free to add some, but know that I will defend some people (La Lohan, the cast of "Gossip Girl" especially Leighton Meester) to the death. We all have our stupid celebrity loyalties, and mine are fierce. Don't test them
ANYWAY, what I'm saying is that the moniker "actress" is being handed out like gold stars in preschool. I was reading Entertainment Weekly (garbage), and I found an article about "Actress" Tawny Kitaen's DUI arrest. Of course, my reaction was, "That can't possibly mean the Whitesnake chick. There must be some other Tawny Kitaen" which frankly was an idiotic reaction, because how many people do you come across named Tawny Kitaen? So, upon light research, I discovered that "Actress" Tawny Kitaen did in fact have some semblance of an acting career, co-starring in a movie with Tom Hanks, starring in an awful sounding 80s horror movie called "Witchboard." (Here's the youtube video of the trailer. Watch. It's glorious. I absolutely wish I lived in the 80s so I could have seen this and been snarky. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irIYCACQnVk&feature=PlayList&p=EEEAFB581FA63AF2&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=8). She was also guest-starred in Seinfeld, Married with Children, and "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" and starred in "The New WKRP in Cincinnati". However, all this is not enough to persuade me that Tawny Kitaen was an actress, and she is not the only one.
This isn't some sort of feminazi stand. I just happen to believe that if your sole purpose in everything you've acted in is "being hot," you can't really be considered an actress. So, instead of writing my Medieval Figure Arts paper, I've compiled a list of women guilty of accepting (or in some cases, actively promoting) this title while absolutely undeserving of it. As follows:
1. Tyra Banks-- Oh Tyra, Tyra, Tyra. You spent oh so many episodes of "America's Next Top Model" pushing the idea that you were an actress. But I actually shamefully saw both "Lifesize" and "Halloween Resurrection." Absolutely not.
2. Anyone who has starred on "The Hills," "Laguna Beach" or any other MTV reality show (with some "Real World" exceptions)-- OK. I absolutely believe that these shows are 97% unreal, and these people are in fact acting the whole time they're on camera. But the instant they wander off of their reality shows and onto a set, they somehow lose their 24/7 experience, and are awful. And well, they aren't THAT great at acting as themselves.
3. Megan Fox-- Sorry uber-nerds out there. This is true. Standing around in ass-exposing jorts does not constitute acting. And the season premiere of "SNL" proved that while Megan Fox may be surreally hot (despite the fact that the girl cannot dress herself), she is NOT an actress.
4. Ashlee Simpson-Wentz-- This is ridiculous. I didn't even know she was attempting to act until I saw the pilot of the new "Melrose Place." She is truly truly awful. And she's apparently awful on MELROSE. That's a whole new bottom level, my friends.
5. Jessica Simpson-- My friends will tell you she's just on here because I despise her. This is undeniable. But because I love trashy movies, I've seen three of hers, and I cannot for the life of me understand why she is cast for anything. Don't believe me? Watch "Blonde Ambition." Easily the worst, most unenjoyable movie experience of my life. And that includes when I saw Peter Jackson's "King Kong" and sat behind an obese man that farted every ten minutes of the three hour movie.
6. Kim Kardashian-- oh Kim. I think you are so trashy, and so gorgeous. Just accept that your celebrity is entirely fueled by your trashiness and stop trying to act.
7. Paris Hilton-- Speaking of trashiness. Now, I have to admit that I LOVE both "House of Wax" and "The Hottie and the Nottie." Yes I am one of five people that saw "The Hottie and the Nottie" and let me tell you, it is a treasure trove. But I loved both of these BECAUSE Paris was so awful. Emotions are so foreign to her face that I honestly believe that in her 20 plus years, the only emotion she's experienced is vacant complacency. And yes, when I saw "House of Wax" in theaters, people did in fact cheer when she died.
So there you go. There are of course, many many more, but I really should do some homework, so I'm stopping here. If anyone out there is reading this, feel free to add some, but know that I will defend some people (La Lohan, the cast of "Gossip Girl" especially Leighton Meester) to the death. We all have our stupid celebrity loyalties, and mine are fierce. Don't test them
On TV so Bad that it Fails as Bad TV
As a person of excessive immersion into pop culture and laziness, I live for two entertainment seasons. The first is, of course, Oscar movie time. The second is the introduction of new fall TV shows. Come September, I do a Fall TV Review, giving each new show (on a major network. I'm cheap, and don't have fancy cable, and I hate TNT), a three episode chance before I completely write it off. This glorious time never fails to make me completely addicted to television shows that are genuinely fantastic (Glee) and others that are so... not. Case in point, Ashton Kutcher's latest pet project, "The Beautiful Life" which is annoyingly listed as "The Beautiful Life: TBL" in TV guides and such. Why this abbreviation is necessary, I don't know, but it bugs the crap out of me.
For those of you out there that don't commit excessive time to watching moronic CW shows, "The Beautiful Life: TBL" is the transparently autobiographical story (of former male model and small town hunk Ashton Kutcher) of a small town hunk from Iowa who visits New York City and is instantly discovered, and swept into the decadent but artificial fashion world. Of course, there are subplots involving his fellow models, including a male model with gross Eurotrash hair, who, in the very first episode, proves his Eurotrashiness by being a pervert and drug dealer. There is also the main hunk's too-young love interest, who is "Having her moment" and is having that cliche thrown in her face about every four minutes. And also some subplot where I believe Mischa Barton, former model "It Girl", comes back from a six month hiatus with a secret baby, but everyone thinks she went to rehab. This particular subplot bugs me the most, because I truly cannot picture Mischa Barton with a single maternal cell in her emaciated body. This is obviously one of those shows that suffers from having way too many characters. I've watched the pilot of this show twice now, and I can't tell you the name of anyone except the love interest, and that's only because it's "Reina" which struck me as such a perfect stupid model's name.
This show truly turns my stomach. In addition to all the aforementioned cliches, the dialogue is appalling. I will admit to loving some ludicrous teen shows, "Gossip Girl" springing to mind. However, I will defend those shows with my life, because for all the ridiculousness, they're snappy. Or just plain brutal. But as for TBL's love interest and small-town hunk? One of their romantic moments comes when she's trying to teach him how to model on a shoot. And I kid you not, this is how it goes:
(Soft, overly soulful pop ballad in the background. That kind that sort of sounds like electronica mixed with light jazz. Reina sits by the hunk who is modelling in a chair . She seems able to speak only in seductive whispers. Also, you have to imagine pointed, seductive pauses between each sentence or comma)
Reina: Just relax. Listen to the music. Imagine you're in the shower. Shut your eyes. You're in the shower, and the water's warm. Can you feel it?
STH: Kind of.
Reina: Breathe in the heat, the steam. Let the warm water fall all around you. Open your eyes.
Blech. And the weird thing is, he seemed to model worse afterwards, but everyone on the show seemed to think otherwise.
However, the point of this long, rambling rant is that despite the fact that this exchange was so revolting I couldn't stomach it, I will totally watch it next week. And probably the following. And not out of boredom, or interest. I don't care what happens to any of these people. I have no investment in the success of Small-Town Hunk, or new It Girl Reina, or Mischa Barton. But there are some shows that suck you in despite everything. You know how everyone watched "Saved By the Bell", even though it wasn't that funny, or cool? It didn't even have plotlines that connected AT ALL. But even once it was off the air, TBS showed at least 2 hours of it a day, and my sisters and I watched all four episodes, even when they were repeats. We still do. I think it's wicked that they now figured out how to do that with hour-long teen nonsense. I'm completely sucked in. I give myself up to the TV. I didn't have a chance against the CW. So, when my mom asks why I can't remember what a gerund actually is, but I remember what happened to let Reina "have her moment" or why Zack and Lisa kissed, all I can say is "The television is a much more powerful entity than I ever will be." And it's absolutely true. I don't know how to break the curse, and until I figure it out, I've resigned myself to being addicted to (roughly) ten shows a week. God that's depressing, but at least I know I'm not alone. Right?
On Chain Restaurant Decor
Cheesecake the way the pharaohs enjoyed it.
I don’t understand chain restaurants. More specifically, I understand their purpose, but am at a total loss when it comes to their decorating schemes. For the most part, they are decorated so that, in case you wandered into one without being able to figure out what kind of restaurant it was from the name or the outside or the menu, you would be able to piece it together from what kind of crap is glued to the wall.
For example, Ruby Tuesday’s is usually decorated with local high school sports teams items, old junk you would find in your garage if you had ever cleaned it out (like old wooden sleds and rusted tools), and group pictures of people that look like people you might know. In other words, “Feel homey and cozy in our restaurant. Order something totally ordinary. We’re just like your small-town Pop’s restaurant, only with thousands of branches, including four in Roanoke, Virginia.”
Or Chili’s, which usually has cartoon pictures of pigs and Mexican peppers as well as uncomfortable wooden benches, which hints that this place has a Down-South/Tex-Mex (Chili’s is oddly indecisive about a lot of things, but I do love those Southwest eggrolls), “real” edge to it.
And while I don’t really get this particular idea of a decorative scheme, I learn to appreciate it whenever I walk into a Cheesecake Factory. Here is a place that just outright confuses me. Its menu contains “more than 200 items” daily, including everything from vaguely Thai food all the way to vaguely Cajun food. Yet the place tries to be decorated as Egyptian/Moroccan/random North African palace. And there is no North African food to speak of on the menu. What are they trying to say? To entertain myself, (as I am wont to do when I am with people who say “OOH! Let’s go to the Cheesecake Factory!”), I pretend that what the restaurant is trying to say is: “Look at this grandeur. Our cheesecake and oppressive amount of menu choices are the food of great Egyptian pharoahs. Ambrosia to the gods.” However, I have a sneaking suspicion that that is not really the case.
For example, Ruby Tuesday’s is usually decorated with local high school sports teams items, old junk you would find in your garage if you had ever cleaned it out (like old wooden sleds and rusted tools), and group pictures of people that look like people you might know. In other words, “Feel homey and cozy in our restaurant. Order something totally ordinary. We’re just like your small-town Pop’s restaurant, only with thousands of branches, including four in Roanoke, Virginia.”
Or Chili’s, which usually has cartoon pictures of pigs and Mexican peppers as well as uncomfortable wooden benches, which hints that this place has a Down-South/Tex-Mex (Chili’s is oddly indecisive about a lot of things, but I do love those Southwest eggrolls), “real” edge to it.
And while I don’t really get this particular idea of a decorative scheme, I learn to appreciate it whenever I walk into a Cheesecake Factory. Here is a place that just outright confuses me. Its menu contains “more than 200 items” daily, including everything from vaguely Thai food all the way to vaguely Cajun food. Yet the place tries to be decorated as Egyptian/Moroccan/random North African palace. And there is no North African food to speak of on the menu. What are they trying to say? To entertain myself, (as I am wont to do when I am with people who say “OOH! Let’s go to the Cheesecake Factory!”), I pretend that what the restaurant is trying to say is: “Look at this grandeur. Our cheesecake and oppressive amount of menu choices are the food of great Egyptian pharoahs. Ambrosia to the gods.” However, I have a sneaking suspicion that that is not really the case.
A Few Questions About Harry Potter
No, not my doing, but funny as hell.
by Chess
Let me preface this whole rant by saying that I actually like Harry Potter. Not with that crazy devotion that makes people dress in capes and wait outside movie theaters for hours before midnight showings, but enough so that I’ve read all the books and see the movies opening weekend. However, there are just some things that no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to look past. Like I can’t help but wonder when all these ten year olds learn basic Algebra. Or hell, long division. Ok, learning how to disarm evil wizards does seem useful, but isn’t learning proper sentence structure as well? What if they need to find non-Wizardy jobs? These children aren’t educated beyond fourth grade! They’ll all have to become custodians or fast food workers.
And then there’s the whole Owl thing. Why in God’s name would a magical community rely on a slower and, I suspect, much less reliable form of communication? They live in a time of telephones and internet. Pick up a phone—Boom. You’ve connected with exactly who you need to speak in a matter of seconds. But no. They would rather hand-write out the message, wait for a bloody owl to fly all the way to the person, and then wait for the person to hand-write their own message and give it to the owl, who’ll then fly the message all the way back to you again. This must take ages. Even if these are magical superfast owls, which I suspect they aren’t, it’s still not nearly as fast as email or cell phones. All these beautiful magical things they can do, and they’ve regressed to a communication system that hasn’t been used regularly since the nineteenth century? It’s insane.
But the thing that irks me the most is easily Harry Potter’s glasses. I cannot understand why he would have them. Part of this is personal resentment, as I have been forced to wear glasses/contacts for twelve years, so this bugs me like it bugs me how people wear them with clear lenses for “style.” But while Harry does have his fair share of teenage angst, he seems to save it up for big ticket items like saving the world from the greatest evil wizard ever, or more basic stuff like whether Ginny Weasley would go out with him. He doesn’t bother with angstily portraying an image, so I don’t think it’s a style thing. And the whole argument about how contacts take too long and are painful is total crap. After about a week, it takes about four seconds to put them in, and Harry’s been nearly killed dozens of times at this point. The slight irritation from dry contacts is nothing.
Or even better, why would he need contacts or glasses? Can’t Dumbledore just do a little magic and give him better eye-sight? Not as a vanity thing, but I would think that since the whole wizarding community is going to pin all their hopes for survival on a teenage boy, they would want him in tip-top shape. Having better vision has got to help with broom-flying, or starting battles with Death Eaters. Personally, when I wear my glasses, my depth perception is totally weird, so I don’t even get how he flies so well in the first place. In glasses, I can barely drive a car. Or bike. Or walk productively. But Harry does everything in them. He SWIMS in them, which is total crap. Swimming in glasses a)basically ruins your glasses,, b) is a pain, because unless they are glued on your head, you constantly have to make sure they are still on and not floating five yards away, and c) is useless because you can’t open your eyes or they’ll fill with water, and even if you do, there’s water, so you won’t be able to see any better anyway. Each time I see a Harry Potter book cover or one of the movies in a rerun on TV, this drives me completely insane. Why, JK Rowling, why? If you’re out there, I’m begging for some understanding.
Let me preface this whole rant by saying that I actually like Harry Potter. Not with that crazy devotion that makes people dress in capes and wait outside movie theaters for hours before midnight showings, but enough so that I’ve read all the books and see the movies opening weekend. However, there are just some things that no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to look past. Like I can’t help but wonder when all these ten year olds learn basic Algebra. Or hell, long division. Ok, learning how to disarm evil wizards does seem useful, but isn’t learning proper sentence structure as well? What if they need to find non-Wizardy jobs? These children aren’t educated beyond fourth grade! They’ll all have to become custodians or fast food workers.
And then there’s the whole Owl thing. Why in God’s name would a magical community rely on a slower and, I suspect, much less reliable form of communication? They live in a time of telephones and internet. Pick up a phone—Boom. You’ve connected with exactly who you need to speak in a matter of seconds. But no. They would rather hand-write out the message, wait for a bloody owl to fly all the way to the person, and then wait for the person to hand-write their own message and give it to the owl, who’ll then fly the message all the way back to you again. This must take ages. Even if these are magical superfast owls, which I suspect they aren’t, it’s still not nearly as fast as email or cell phones. All these beautiful magical things they can do, and they’ve regressed to a communication system that hasn’t been used regularly since the nineteenth century? It’s insane.
But the thing that irks me the most is easily Harry Potter’s glasses. I cannot understand why he would have them. Part of this is personal resentment, as I have been forced to wear glasses/contacts for twelve years, so this bugs me like it bugs me how people wear them with clear lenses for “style.” But while Harry does have his fair share of teenage angst, he seems to save it up for big ticket items like saving the world from the greatest evil wizard ever, or more basic stuff like whether Ginny Weasley would go out with him. He doesn’t bother with angstily portraying an image, so I don’t think it’s a style thing. And the whole argument about how contacts take too long and are painful is total crap. After about a week, it takes about four seconds to put them in, and Harry’s been nearly killed dozens of times at this point. The slight irritation from dry contacts is nothing.
Or even better, why would he need contacts or glasses? Can’t Dumbledore just do a little magic and give him better eye-sight? Not as a vanity thing, but I would think that since the whole wizarding community is going to pin all their hopes for survival on a teenage boy, they would want him in tip-top shape. Having better vision has got to help with broom-flying, or starting battles with Death Eaters. Personally, when I wear my glasses, my depth perception is totally weird, so I don’t even get how he flies so well in the first place. In glasses, I can barely drive a car. Or bike. Or walk productively. But Harry does everything in them. He SWIMS in them, which is total crap. Swimming in glasses a)basically ruins your glasses,, b) is a pain, because unless they are glued on your head, you constantly have to make sure they are still on and not floating five yards away, and c) is useless because you can’t open your eyes or they’ll fill with water, and even if you do, there’s water, so you won’t be able to see any better anyway. Each time I see a Harry Potter book cover or one of the movies in a rerun on TV, this drives me completely insane. Why, JK Rowling, why? If you’re out there, I’m begging for some understanding.