Abigail Barnette's Blog, page 97

Merlin Club S03E07 “The Castle of Fyrien” or “Shhh, Cenred. Let the big girls talk.”

Merlin club is a weekly feature in which Jessica Jarman, Bronwyn Green, and myself gather at 8pm EST to watch an episode of the amazing BBC series Merlin, starring Colin Morgan and literally nobody else I care about except Colin Morgan.

Okay, I lie. A lot of other really cool people are in it, too.

Anyway, we watch the show, we tweet to the hashtag #MerlinClub, and on Fridays we share our thoughts about the episode we watched earlier in the week.

So, here’s a quick rundown of episode seven: Morgana and Morgause plot to kidnap Gwen, and they let Cenred help out and do some cliche monologuing so he feels like he’s included. They’ve got Gwen’s brother hostage, and they make her choose between saving her brother or delivering Arthur to them. Though Merlin knows that Morgana is evil, nobody else does, so he can’t do anything about it when Arthur lets her come along on the road trip to Cenred’s castle. Once there, Cenred imprisons them all, giving Arthur and Merlin time to come up with a daring escape that relies almost entirely upon guard ineptitude. While trying to “rescue” Morgana, Merlin has to keep Morgause’s magic from destroying Arthur, and Merlin ends up injuring Cenred and Morgause in the process. Morgana is “rescued” before she can check on her sister, and everyone gets away properly.

If I had written this episode, I would have changed: I would have killed off Cenred, because he’s annoying as hell.

The thing I loved most about this episode: To me, this is the first episode where I can really see why we keep hearing over and over that Arthur is this great warrior. We’ve seen him in combat, but that’s only like, half of being a badass knight. Arthur formulates a plan for rescuing Elyan, puts his plan into place, and commands the other three capably. This is a well-rounded picture of Arthur.

Also, I love watching Morgause play Cenred like a fucking lute. You can tell the whole time that she’s thinking, “This fucking guy. I can’t wait to kill him.”

The thing I hated most about this episode: Cenred. He reminds me of every dude who has called me M’lady and made grandiose claims about his “twisted mind” and “fucked up family” while trying to nail me.

Something I never noticed before:  In shows, when the villain captures the good guys, why do they always come in to gloat, then leave. Cenred goes in and Gwen is like, “What do you want with us?” and Cenred says, “All in good time.” Well, then why bother even going in there? And what are you waiting for? Just tell them the thing about how Gwen has to betray Arthur or whatever now, while you’re there.

Favorite Costume: Morgana’s armor (again).

We don’t often see it from this angle, so I appreciate the shot of her sheet metal corset and cowl-necked chain mail sweater. This is such a totally weird costume, but it works surprisingly well.

Here is proof of some random headcanon I created: 

Dooooing iiiiiiiit.

What object would Bronwyn steal from this episode? 

Not only does she own like six hundred rings that are exactly like this, she would also steal this one, because she hoards amber like she’s opening up her own Jurassic Park franchise.

What Merthur moment did Jess have the naughtiest thoughts about? 

Check out Jessica Jarman’s take on the episode here

Check out Bronwyn Green’s take on the episode here

That’s it for this week. Join us next week for S03E08, “The Eye of The Phoenix” Monday,  8pm EST on the hashtag #MerlinClub.

 

Wednesday Blogging: Clear My History When I Die

This week, we’re supposed to blog about what our internet search history says about us.

Hooh, boy.

1. I am struggling to find the perfect pattern to knit for Billy Joel’s Christmas present. That’s all one could possibly construe from the eleven tabs open to Ravelry and Wikipedia articles about Billy Joel’s songs. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for you, Mr. Joel, but I think it’s going to be the brown shawl Claire wore in last week’s Outlander.

2. I am struggling to find the perfect pattern to knit for the Baltimore police department’s Christmas present. Same reasons as above, except for the part about Billy Joel’s discography.  Merry Christmas, Baltimore PD. I think you’re getting this lace work shawl.

3. I’ve missed seven dentist appointments. Just look at my google calendar!

4. I look at way too much porn. Bullshit. No such thing. Plus, it’s research that I’m looking at all these highly inappropriate .gifs of men in suits forcing their fingers into hot brunettes’ mouths.

5. I’m trying to help Billy Joel send his Nintendo 3DS for repairs. That’s the only explanation for why I’ve visited the lyrics page for “Allentown” thirty times in the past four days, and why this UPS label .pdf is open in Chrome.

What confusing or horrible things will your internet search history say about you?

Check out what these Wednesday bloggers don’t want you to see in their bookmarks folder:

Bronwyn Green • Jessica Jarman • Gwendolyn Cease •

DON’T DO THIS, EVER (An advice column for writers): Dudley Dursley edition

Believe it or not, one of the questions I’m most often asked by people who don’t already know that I know absolutely nothing is, “Do you have you any advice for someone who wants to be/is a writer?” I’m the worst person to ask. Everything I have in my writing career, I got by falling into it ass backwards. Sure, I’ve worked hard for a long time, but to be honest, most of that work has been pointed firmly in the wrong direction. Then fate or some cosmic entity sees me struggling like a wind-up toy in a corner, and it’s like, “Awww. That’s really sad for her. You know what? Let’s just turn her around.” Something just happens, and I’ve arrived at some goal or achievement I feel I’ve done very little to earn. So, I don’t generally have any advice as to how to be a successful writer. Also, I have very little social media savvy. I talked about cutting my vulva with a pair of scissors on my twitter feed last week (@Jenny_Trout, in case you want in on all the vulva-maiming action).

I am a gossipy little streak of nonsense, though, so allow me to use someone else’s drama to craft some advice for you. Or, like Willam Belli says, “I’m going to teach you how to be better, through the faults of others.”

An author wasn’t happy the week that her latest book released:

 

Writers, and I’m gonna be real here, especially female writers, have a really rough time balancing work and family pressures. I know that even though I’m the primary income in my household, my job is the one that’s most flexible and doesn’t require me to leave the house, so it’s always going to fall to me to make dinner, keep things straight for school, do the bills, do the phone calls, let the dogs out, give the kids baths, etc. It’s not that my husband is just too big and manly to help out, but he works a weird schedule and his job is pretty stressful, too. He’s always tired, he’s always asleep when the rest of the world is going on, so it falls to the person who is conscious (mostly) to do a lot of this stuff. And yes, the pressure is overwhelming when you’re sitting there, cooking a grilled cheese, and you know that you have a ton of work waiting for you in the next room, but your co-parent can’t exactly tell his job, “Hey, I’m going to need to leave for an hour so I can go make my kids’ dinner because my wife needs a solid eight hours to work.” It sucks so, so much to work from home, in this aspect.

So, I understand Author’s frustration at having to leave a sick kid to go on a book tour. I missed my kids so much on a two-day tour that my husband had to drive to Columbus, OH to get me, because I was a wreck. I know it must have sucked to go to a huge, mentally and emotionally draining expo when she wasn’t a hundred percent. That must have really sucked, and I know, believe me, I know, what it feels like when you work hard on something and it doesn’t do as well as you’d like it to (See also: Jenny’s entire career, 2009 to 2012). But there are a couple different reasons why authors cannot put out a message like this.

One of those reasons is that, wow. It sounds extremely entitled, doesn’t it? I’m not the only blogger to think so. In fact, I found out about this whole kerfuffle from Tez Miller’s blog. I’m linking because I don’t want you guys to think I’m straight up stealing her post when I now go on to say basically every single thing she already said. The reason our opinions are going to line up so neatly is because, well. Common sense.

The first mistake Author made was announcing that her book didn’t achieve list placement. Just a heads up: you don’t ever have to tell anyone how your book is performing. Ever. None of her readers would have noticed the book didn’t place, unless they’re particularly interested in the list placement of every author they’ve read. In fact, the first time you make a list, you get to keep saying, “Blabbity Blah Bestselling Author” for the rest of your career from the very first time you get placement, and pretty much everyone keeps on assuming all your books are bestsellers because of that. Seriously, I’m “USA Today Bestselling Author” Jenny Trout, because one book that came out in 2006 made the list one week and then dropped off and nothing of mine ever sold that well again. You just throw the title around and everyone assumes things are fine. The only people who notice that you’re not making a list is your publisher, your agent, and any of your particularly dedicated adversaries. But if you feel like being real about how a book is doing, you can. Nobody’s stopping you. Just know that you don’t have to.

If you are going to say something about your book not selling well, you might want to go with, “I’m disappointed that this book isn’t doing better, because I was really enthusiastic about it. Oh well, I hope everyone who’s reading it enjoys it!” I have heard from some readers that this kind of thing makes them uncomfortable; I’ll often refer to my fantasy series as “the one nobody read,” and I suppose that can come off a little ungrateful. After all, what about the people who did read it? Are they chopped liver? On the other hand, as someone who thrives on thinking I’ve got access to something secret, I love hearing that I’m a part of something obscure, so I guess it could go either way.

But what Author does here isn’t just, “Oh, my book isn’t performing the way I’d like it to.” She blames her readers for not pre-ordering. She can’t “count” on her loyal readers to boost her numbers and assure list placement anymore, and that’s why she’s disheartened with writing. That seems unfair, and that was her second mistake.  The people Author has a real issue with here are the people who aren’t buying her book. So why shit on the people who did buy it, by accusing them of not delivering on the promise the author assumed the readers have made? Why tell “core fans” that they’ve let you down, instead of saying, “Hey, thanks for buying and enjoying my latest book?”

The third mistake Author made here was to mention that all of her previous thrillers had made the NYT list. As in… none of her thrillers had ever not become New York Times Bestsellers. It is at this point, dear readers, that the patience of pretty much any author would wear thin. Making the New York Times Bestseller list is a dream of every novelist. If they say it isn’t, they’re lying. Everyone who says, “I don’t really care about list placement,” is going to be on the phone with every member of their extended family, their graduating class, and their dentist’s office staff within minutes of hearing that they placed on the list. People go their entire careers without ever getting close to the NYT. It is the very definition of “brass ring” for genre fiction authors. If the worst thing happening in your career is one of your books not making the New York Times Bestsellers list when all the ones before it did, you might wanna reframe your complaint. This comes off a little like Dudley Dursley counting his birthday presents. Or, as one twitter user put it, “But I ALWAYS win first place!”

She goes on to say that those thrillers that did make the NYT “didn’t sell gangbusters.” But they made the New York Times bestseller list. Here’s another tip: keep your career in perspective. You’re always going to feel like you’re not doing well enough, or that you could be selling better. That’s called insecurity, and if you’re a writer, well, congratulations, you have a wealth of it. If your books are becoming New York Times bestsellers, they’re selling well. Unless every other book under you on that list had extremely bad sales all at once, trust me. Your book is selling just fine.

The last tip I want to impart here is, don’t threaten to withhold from your readers. Whether Author intended to or not, she implied that she wouldn’t continue writing her series unless her fan base pre-ordered and got her on a list. And that’s crappy. It’s crappy when an author doesn’t finish a series, anyway–and I should know; I have two unfinished series out there, mea culpa–but it’s extra super crappy when an author claims their bestselling series is in danger because readers aren’t doing enough to directly benefit the author’s wallet.

So, if you’re a writer, or plan on being one, there’s some advice. Do not blast your readers on social media for getting you thirty-six presents this year instead of thirty-seven. And if you do… avoid zoos.

Merlin Club S03E06 “The Changeling” or “If someone doesn’t marry that girl, I will.”

Merlin club is a weekly feature in which Jessica Jarman, Bronwyn Green, and myself gather at 8pm EST to watch an episode of the amazing BBC series Merlin, starring Colin Morgan and literally nobody else I care about except Colin Morgan.

Okay, I lie. A lot of other really cool people are in it, too.

Anyway, we watch the show, we tweet to the hashtag #MerlinClub, and on Fridays we share our thoughts about the episode we watched earlier in the week.

So, here’s a quick rundown of episode six: Uther wants Arthur to marry a princess from another kingdom, but the girl turns out to be a fairy changeling. The sidhe want to get one of their own onto the throne of Camelot, yadda yadda, it’s all fairly straightforward. It’s kind of a monster-of-the-week episode, so obviously Elena is uncovered as a sidhe, Merlin rescues her, she and Arthur don’t marry, and we never see or hear from any of the side characters again. I think we start to pull away from these types of episodes as season three goes on, and I didn’t remember many that are constructed like this is seasons four and five.

If I had written this episode, I would have changed: The reason we know Elena is a changeling is because she burps, farts, stumbles, and doesn’t have spectacular hair. Well, if that’s what it takes, then I’m a changeling. I hate narratives that push this whole only-one-way-to-be-a-woman ideal, and this episode is disappointing in that aspect.

The thing I loved most about this episode: Everything about Elena. She’s adorable, she’s truly herself, she doesn’t pretend to not be good on horseback just to impress Arthur, she’s socially awkward:

 

Who wouldn’t want to marry this girl?

The thing I hated most about this episode: When Merlin kills Princess Elena’s nurse, who is a Sidhe in disguise, what happens? No, seriously. Elena was raised by this woman–her own mother died when she was an infant–and now she’s just GONE. Elena doesn’t know the reason. She doesn’t know she was a fairy, she doesn’t know her nurse was part of an evil plot… this girl just goes back to her kingdom and never learns the fate of the only mother figure she ever had. THAT IS SO FUCKING GRIM, YOU GUYS.

Something I never noticed before:  Why does it come as such a huge surprise to Arthur that he isn’t going to be able to marry for love? It’s come up on this show before. Did he forget he’s a prince? And why haven’t I complained about this before?

Favorite Costume: The Sidhe Elder’s makeup:

 

Here is proof of some random headcanon I created: Uther and Lord Godwin have a long time romance going on and they want their kids to get married so they have an excuse to see each other more often:

Godwin: “It’s a big occasion, the tinchel joining of our two families.”

Uther: “Indeed, this union would cement what has long been an unofficial alliance between our kingdoms.”

Godwin: “It will give me great pleasure. I can assure you, my heart lies with yours.”

You know what I heard?

Godwin: Since we can’t get married, look at how we’re gaming this system to be together.

Uther: We’ve always been together, this will just be a little more official.

Godwin: Good, because I’m going to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane after this party tonight.

What object would Bronwyn steal from this episode? It was really easy this week, because she wouldn’t shut up a second about this damn crib:

She doesn’t even have a baby!

What Merthur moment did Jess have the naughtiest thoughts about? This episode was better for Arthur/Gwen shippers, but I’m sure Jess enjoyed Merlin being Arthur’s wingman.

Check out Jessica Jarman’s take on the episode here

Check out Bronwyn Green’s take on the episode here

That’s it for this week. Join us next week for S03E07, “The Castle of Fyrien” Monday,  8pm EST on the hashtag #MerlinClub.

 

The Big Damn Buffy Rewatch S02E12 “Bad Eggs”

In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone is seriously, so bloated from pie right now. She will also recap every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with an eye to the following themes:

Sex is the real villain of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe.
Giles is totally in love with Buffy.
Joyce is a fucking terrible parent.
Willow’s magic is utterly useless (this one won’t be an issue until season 2, when she gets a chance to become a witch)
Xander is a textbook Nice Guy.
The show isn’t as feminist as people claim.
All the monsters look like wieners.
If ambivalence to possible danger were an Olympic sport, Team Sunnydale would take the gold.
Angel is a dick.
Harmony is the strongest female character on the show.
Team sports are portrayed in an extremely negative light.
Some of this shit is racist as fuck.
Science and technology are not to be trusted.
Mental illness is stigmatized.
Only Willow can use a computer.
Buffy’s strength is flexible at the plot’s convenience.
Cheap laughs and desperate grabs at plot plausibility are made through Xenophobia.
Oz is the Anti-Xander
Spike is capable of love despite his lack of soul
Don’t freaking tell me the vampires don’t need to breathe because they’re constantly out of frickin’ breath.

Have I missed any that were added in past recaps? Let me know in the comments.  Even though I might forget that you mentioned it.

WARNING: Some people have mentioned they’re watching along with me, and that’s awesome, but I’ve seen the entire series already and I’ll probably mention things that happen in later seasons. So… you know, take that under consideration, if you’re a person who can’t enjoy something if you know future details about it. 

Before we go any further with this recap, I need to share my gender swap Giles cosplay with you all: You can’t see it in the picture, but underneath that tight white shirt, I’m wearing a leopard print bra. Because you know Giles has a little freak in him. Also, yes. That is the Handbook for The Recently Deceased in my hand. It seems like a Watcher would have a copy of that for emergencies.

Okay, so. “Bad Eggs.” Let me provide some context here, because apparently not every country does the egg nonsense, which I have recently learned. In American middle schools and high schools in the twentieth century, we all had to do the egg thing. In my school, we even called it “the egg thing.” In health class, we were given eggs with little stickers on top (to prove we hadn’t broken an egg and swapped it with a new one) and we had to take care of the egg for something like three days. The point of the lesson was to teach us how hard it is to be a parent, and scare us away from teen sex. It’s fucking dumb, because there is a lot more unpleasant bullshit that goes into parenting, aside from the bare minimum of not dropping your baby. Now they apparently do this with baby dolls programed to randomly cry and you can’t turn the crying mechanism off; it only turns off when you’ve rocked it or changed it or fed it. I assume it uses some kind of computerized sensor that I don’t understand. But anyway, this episode is based off that popular eggs-periment (I’m sorry, I had to. I promise that will be the last egg pun), so if you’re unfamiliar with it, there you go.

The episode opens in the mall. Joyce and Buffy are shopping, and Buffy is arguing about an outfit she feels that Joyce should have bought her. And right out of the gate, Joyce is laying down that stellar parenting:

Joyce: “It’s an outfit. An outfit that you may never buy.”

Buffy: “I looked good in it.”

Joyce: “You looked like a streetwalker.”

Good job, Joyce! You’ve effectively thrown other women (and come on, I’m not sure streetwalkers is the preferred term here) under the bus to slut shame your daughter! We have a two-fer! (#3, #6)

The mall is closing, and Joyce still has to go to the printer to pick up flyers for the gallery. That is some exciting mall they’ve got in Sunnydale. It has a print shop in it. Joyce and Buffy split up to finish their mall-related errands (which seem like they should involve a lengthy visit to a podiatrist’s waiting room or a time-share sales presentation, given the excitement level provided by a mall with a print shop in it), and she spots a cowboy vampire canoodling with a woman on the escalator. She pursues, of course, and finds the vampire and his intended meal in a closed arcade. They fight, and the vampire runs off, but not before dropping a few really gross, sleazy, Wal-Mart rodeo superstar lines and saying his name is Lyle Gorch. Believe it or not, that’s going to be important later and in season three.

When Buffy split off from her mom, she was supposed to go pick up her mom’s dress from a mom dress store. Though she forgets it due to vampire, she can’t tell her mom that–well, she kind of does; when Joyce asks Buffy if she thinks of anything other than clothes or boys, Buffy responds:

Buffy: “Saving the world from vampires?”

This obviously comes off as sass to her mother, who is just about done with lecturing her daughter about responsibility.

After the opening credits, Xander and Cordelia are making out in the janitors’ closet again, and Xander is talking like a man who doesn’t want to make out with anyone at all:

Xander: “This would work a lot better for me if you didn’t talk.”

This series would work a lot better for me if you didn’t show up in every episode, but here we are, Xander. It’s not like you’re bounding through pussy like a golden retriever in a field of daisies, is it? You spend like 90% of your time on this show whining about how you can’t get a girl. Now, the most popular girl in school wants to make out with you a ton, and you’re going to act like you’re better than her? (#5)

They talk about what a bummer it is that they like to suck face, but still hate each other. Ultimately, and probably because they’re horny television teenagers, they choose making out over hatred.

Here’s something I don’t get about this show: it gets a lot of credit for showing “real” teen characters, but on closer examination, they don’t come off as very real at all. Sure, there are times when you’re watching and you’re like, “I can identify with this, because I remember feeling that way when I was in high school.” But those moments aren’t as frequent as the ones where a junior in high school in the 90′s will reference a pop culture moment from the sixties or seventies, or they’ll become stereotypes, like the horny teenagers who can’t overcome their hormones.

Case in point, we cut from the make-out closet to a teacher writing the word “SEX” on the chalkboard and enunciating each letter as he says them like a gavel falling. I really expect them to pan out and reveal that he’s the gym teacher from Mean Girls.  The teacher goes on to describe the sex drive of mammals, and poses a rhetorical question about sexual thoughts and feelings distracting someone. Xander enthusiastically volunteers that it happens to him… so, why are you trying as hard as you can to verbally wound your way out of a chance to actually have sex with Cordelia?

Who, by the way, is experiencing crushing second hand embarrassment.

The teacher goes on to explain that while teenagers have a difficult time controlling sexual urges, there are negative consequences to sex:

Teacher: “Would anyone care to offer one such consequence?”

Cordelia: “Well, that depends. Are you talking about sex in the car, or out of the car? Because I have a friend–not me–that was in a Miata, parked at the top of a hill, and then she kicked the gearshift and then–”

The teacher is looking for something a little more specific, so he cuts her off. But you go get it, Cordelia. You go get it, and from someone more worthy than Xander.

Xander offers his own example, directed at Cordelia:

Xander: “You wanna talk negative consequence? How about the heartbreak of halitosis? I mean, a girl may seem spiffy, but if she ignores her flossing, the bloom is definitely off the rose.”

Because Cordelia shared a story about having sex–and not having sex with Xander–he decides she has to be punished by being insulted in front of the entire class, whether they’re aware that he’s insulting her or not. Xander’s attempt to humiliate Cordelia falls in line with the typical Nice Guy stance, that if a woman isn’t rewarding your attention with sex, she’s a worthless slut in need of a good degrading. (#5)

The situation devolves into the two trading barbs, until the teacher stops the and Willow volunteers the most obvious negative consequence to teen sex: pregnancy. The teacher reveals about forty-eight eggs on his desk, so I assume he’s doing this experiment with more than one class period. He tells the students to break into parenting teams and claim an egg to care for like a child.

Xander and Cordelia make it a point to not pair up together, but here’s an interesting thing I never noticed before: when everyone gets up to claim their eggs, Willow tries to get Xander’s attention, presumably to ask him to be her parenting partner. Xander doesn’t even think to team up with Willow; he’s on his feet like a shot to go talk to another girl at the front of the class. Why? Because to him, Willow isn’t going to a useful tool in making Cordelia jealous, and this other girl might be, proving that the only useful application of a woman in Xander’s life is to help him on his quest for sex.

Willow and Xander meet Buffy and Giles in the library, and inform Buffy that she skipped class. Willow hands Buffy an egg and says the teacher noted Buffy’s absence and wanted her to have the egg.

Buffy: “As far as punishments go, this is fairly abstract.”

They explain the egg project to Buffy, who panics and says she can’t take care of anything. And the example she uses, oh my god. The example she uses. She says she sat on her GigaPet and broke it. Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t thought of those in forever. I now have a yearning for my old Tamagotchi. Mine was the yellow egg with pink accidents, and I spanked it so much it returned home in its space ship. Man. I wish I had one of those again, so bad.

They also break some pretty bad news to Buffy. Since she was absent, leaving an even number of students in class that day, Buffy is a single mom.

Buffy: “Do you know what this says about me? That I’m doomed to live my mother’s life. How deeply scary is that?”

It is at this point I notice that this whole time, Giles has been reading, in their immediate vicinity, and he has totally blocked out their conversation. I wonder if he has earplugs in, and they just haven’t noticed. When he does come out of his reading zone, he nearly crushes Buffy’s egg with a giant book. He’s found the identity of the cowboy vampire (I guarantee you there are at least seventy small-press erotic romances titled The Cowboy Vampire). He’s one of two Gorch brothers:

Giles: “They made their reputation by massacring an entire Mexican village in 1886.”

Buffy: “Friendly little demons.”

Giles: “That was before they became vampires.”

He goes on to explain that the brothers are about as smart as you’d expect a team of murdering cowboys named Tector and Lyle would be, so they don’t have much to worry about. But he does caution Buffy:

Giles: “I don’t think you should underestimate them. You may need to have some help if… Why do you all have eggs?”

Willow, ever the romantic, suggests that Buffy enlist Angel in her search for the brothers Gorch, which makes Xander go on yet another pout rant. He implies that rather than going after vampires, Buffy and Angel will just start getting frickety all over the place. Because Xander is a bitter, jealous Nice Guy. Buffy blows him off. She and Angel can control themselves, after all.

Cut to Buffy and Angel, making out in the cemetery. I really hate the wet, smacking, sloshing noises that TV shows blast in your ears to give you the audible cue that someone is kissing. It grosses me out like crazy. It could be because I don’t actually enjoy mouth kissing myself, but somehow it just sounds so… ugh. I mean, if they used that sound effect during scenes where people are having sex, but not kissing, if you get my drift, I would be enthusiastically on board.

Anyway, while Buffy and Angel fulfill the prophecy set forth by Xander, the Gorches watch from afar, wondering why Angelus is kissing the Slayer. So, they knew him from before his good vampire days. They decide to not attack the Slayer, because Lyle, the thinker of the pair, has a plan that the Slayer needs to be alive for.

Back home, Buffy is going through her checklist of stuff she’s had to do for her egg–whom she has named Eggbert, which I also named my egg in seventh grade–and goes to bed. Unlike my seventh grade egg, Buffy’s hatches and a horrific, slimy pink tentacle extrudes from the hole in the shell and start crawling over her face.

Like an earthworm, but with fingers. Nighty-night!

Meanwhile, in the sewers, the Gorch Bros. are Louis-ing it up on rats.  Tector isn’t pleased with their accommodations, which lack both whores and ice machines. Lyle reminds him that they’re supposed to be keeping a low profile for his plan to work. In an argument that supplies exposition, we learn that Lyle raised Tector, and then they get into a physical fight for entertainment. Like you do.

Buffy’s alarm clock goes off–I think it should be illegal to have the sound of an alarm clock going off in any form of media, for obvious reasons relating to waking up hatred–and there’s Eggbert, sitting there without a scratch on it. Downstairs, Joyce is in the kitchen, and she questions some of Buffy’s parenting choices, which annoys Buffy. Imagine if it were a real baby, Buffy. Do you have any idea how many times I had to undress a screaming, practically heat-stroking baby because my maternal figures think infants need to be kept at a minimum of 350 degrees at all times?

Buffy tells her mom that she’s not feeling well, but she goes to school anyway. She and Willow and Xander are waiting in the library when Giles sees them. Willow and Buffy are both mopey, but Xander is fresh as a daisy. Giles asks Buffy how the hunt went, and her response makes Xander and Giles kind of worried; Willow and Buffy are listless and fatigued. Xander chalks this up to the stress of being a new parent, a stress that he’s deftly avoided by hard boiling his pseudo-child.

Since the three honest Scoobies are busy explaining the concept of cheating to Xander, Giles doesn’t notice the egg nestled in a bookshelf. He just puts the books away and covers it up. Clearly, he’s not a vigorous shelver. If that was my book shelf, that egg would be hella broken.

Cordelia comes to the library and announces that their teacher, Mr. Whitmore, is:

Cordelia: “Missing. Presumed dead.”

Giles: “Presumed by whom?”

Cordelia: “Well, me!”

Aha! You’re saying to yourself. Yet another case where Cordelia is right all along, and everyone underestimates her. Sadly, that isn’t what’s happening. She just wants an excuse to thoroughly search closets for Mr. Whitmore’s body, with Xander along to help her, of course. Willow has caught on to something weird, and she comments on how strange Cordelia and Xander are acting, but she and Buffy already know that Xander and Cordelia are kind of strange, so it’s a non-issue. Despite Giles’s warning that she should suspend her Gorch hunt until she’s recovered from whatever food poisoning or flu bug that’s stricken her, Buffy plans to go out patrolling again that night.

Cut to more of those awful wet sounds as Buffy and Angel paw each other in the cemetery (by the way, Angel is always softly panting when they break apart, so (#20)). I get that Buffy is a teenager, hormones, etc., and all of that is getting in the way of completing this Gorch quest, but what’s Angel’s excuse? Why isn’t he exercising some of the self-control that keeps him from eating people up in order to stop making out with Buffy and concentrating on the problem at hand?

One of the things I didn’t quite understand about this show when I first watched it (because I was twenty-two and still a pretty young twenty-two, emotionally) was how disturbing it is that Angel is two hundred years old or something, and he’s still basically a teenager. Or a dude stuck in the teenage mindset. While I could use this opportunity to make a “LOL men!” joke, it’s pretty disturbing when you consider that in a lot of media, we’re comfortable with the idea of a male character retaining a certain level of immaturity no matter what his age is. Does that mean we’re comfortable with men retaining a certain level of immaturity, no matter their ages, in real life? (I think we already all know the answer to that).

Because the egg project has the birds and the bees up in the air (as they should be!), Buffy mentions having kids, and how it’s not something she’d like to do right now. And then Angel has that awkward job where he has to say, “Yeah, sorry, I can’t have kids, because vampire.”

Watching this series now, as opposed to just watching it for fun later, I noticed this scene pretty hard. I used to think Buffy just assumed she and Angel would be together forever, so when they break up in season three (technically during season one of Angel, but Buffy can’t remember that), I always kind of thought, “Well, he never gave you any forever promises, dude. You just got kind of swept up in thinking this was forever.” But then he says some shit in this episode about how he can’t have kids, as in, just in case you were planning for our future. No wonder Buffy thought they were together forever, if he’s discussing their breeding plans.

This is also the point in the series that needless Buffy/Angel drama starts to get crammed into every episode, regardless of whether or not it fits. Buffy is sixteen, so what’s the point of bringing up her future kid plans? Slow down, show. You don’t need to know if you want kids or not when you’re in high school. You might know, but it’s not like you have to make that decision right then. The whole point of this interaction was to reiterate to the audience that Angel is a vampire, and therefore their love can never be. We get it. By the end of this season, we’ll really get it. Season three? Oh brother. This is the first episode where it becomes really intrusive.

Back at Sunnydale high, a security guard is walking around the building. It’s probably his first day, because he’s not dead. Yet. He goes into the basement for seemingly no reason–okay, this is clearly his first day–and finds a hole in the wall. He’s checking it out when the missing health teacher pops up and attacks him with a pick axe.

Back in Buffy’s room, Buffy is sneaking in through the window when she sees little Eggbert moving around on her bedside table.

She’s getting too old for this shit.

Eggbert hatches a creepy little skin spider, which Buffy stabs to death with a pair of scissors. This scene brilliantly preys upon the fear we all feel when we realize that the spider we just saw is now nowhere to be seen.

Buffy immediately calls Willow and warns her to break her egg, but Willow is really nonchalant about the whole thing, saying that her egg is in the fridge and it’s not doing anything weird, so maybe it’s a trap sent to Buffy by the Gorch brothers. And then Buffy realizes it’s the middle of the night and she’s raving about eggs, and hangs up with Willow. Then we see Willow looking like this:

And oh yeah, her egg is broken and dripping with purple goo.

Joyce comes in to figure out who the hell Buffy is talking to in the middle of the night, and sees that, hey, Buffy has her coat on. She’s fucking done, and she grounds Buffy. I would totally be pro-Joyce right now, if I didn’t already know that she rarely follows up on her punishments, just because she’s barely ever at home. Her scolding of Buffy apparently lasts all night long, because she’s still at it as they’re pulling up to the school. She does the routine fiction laying out of grounded ground rules: no this, no that, no blah blah blah. Why do TV shows and movies always do this? Doesn’t everyone in the world know what “grounded” means?

Except for the parents in Mean Girls, of course, who completely forgot the ways of American life while in the Savannah, and thought “being grounded” meant the kids can just continue on with their lives in the face of the parents’ absentee neglect.

But I digress.

Joyce tells Buffy that since school gets out at 2:30, she has to go to the library and wait until she gets picked up at five. “Go spend two and a half hours with that librarian who shows what would appear to be, to the casual observer, a highly inappropriate interest in you.” (#3, #8) 

On her way into school, Buffy stops Cordelia, who is wearing a weird teddy bear backpack that’s totally incongruous with… just generally being Cordelia. When Buffy comments on it, Cordelia tells her a long-winded story about trends and why she’s wearing the backpack, but Buffy isn’t interested. She questions Cordelia about her egg, but Cordy says it’s just hanging out in her bear, being an egg. Then–and I have never once noticed this line before and I’m totally horrified about it–Cordelia sees a black girl and shouts:

Cordelia: “Shanice? Is that your real hair?”

What in the actual fuck is going on here? (#12) We all know that Cordelia is an insensitive person who says totally offensive stuff all the time. We also know that this is a common thing that happens when insensitive people try to give really offensive compliments to people of color. But it’s not like that aspect is commented on at all. In fact, Shanice stops and talks to her, like she’s totally flattered, and the whole thing just fades weirdly into the background like, “Have some of this troubling whiteness, I’ll just toddle off over here.” It was totally weird and unnecessary. We’ve seen Cordelia be rude and even downright xenophobic, but it was always presented in a way that made it clear that it was awful. This just kind of waves as it blows past.

Meanwhile, Xander decides, “Fuck graduating, I’m going to eat this egg,” and gets to peelin’ as Buffy tells Willow and Cordelia that she’s going to take the thing that hatched from her egg to Giles, so he can do research. Willow is like, “Why don’t you take it to the science lab, and I’ll go get Giles.”

Xander is about to take a bite from his delicious, hard-boiled nightmare when he sees what it actually is:

As much as I dislike Xander, nobody deserves to bite into that. I bet the texture is super rubbery and the goo tastes like liquid hand soap.

In the science lab, the Scoobies are wondering what the hell this egg monster is.

A xenomorph. It’s a xenomorph.

Willow says that Giles is busy, but he’ll be along in a minute. As they discuss what’s up with the egg, Cordelia’s xenomorph starts creeping out of her backpack in the most horrifying way possible:

Pardon me while I burn all my cherished stuffed toys.

Xander: “So I guess we know what happened to Mr. Whittmore.”

Cordelia: “He saw this and ran away?”

Buffy: “Try best case scenario.”

Willow: “It’s possible that Mr. Whittmore wasn’t harmed. Maybe the offspring simply used him to return to the Mother Bezoar.”

It takes Buffy and Xander a second to realize that what Willow just said was really strange, and that’s all the time it takes for Willow and Cordelia to knock them unconscious and, with the help of other, similarly body-snatched students, thrown into a closet or something.

So, Xander finally gets his wish, to be locked in a closet with Buffy. Har har.

The possessed students go into this big storage room full of tools, including just gallons of pick axes:

Gallons of them.

It seems like kind of a weird amount of pick axes to have at a high school. The number of possible explanations are overwhelming. Maybe the Gorches put them there. Maybe the students brought them in from home. Maybe there’s a landscaping club. Or a dwarven mining course. Or Intro to Archaic and Brutal Prison Punishments, and it’s extremely hands-on learning. But for whatever reason, there are definitely plenty of pick axes, and everybody, students and faculty alike, are taking them down to the hole in the basement.

Okay, I’m not going to try to screen cap it, but there’s a really hilarious moment when they’re all filing down into the basement, and the music is really suspenseful and the camera pans to a sign on the basement door that’s like “Door is to remain locked at all times,” or something and it makes me laugh so, so hard every time I see it. If we didn’t know they were being controlled by evil forces already, we would definitely know by how they’re going through that unlocked door that’s supposed to be locked.

Joyce comes to pick up Buffy and finds Giles alone in the library. He hasn’t seen Buffy all day, and he sympathizes with Joyce’s frustration about Buffy running off. But Joyce says something about children that to me, as a parent, is really horrifying:

Joyce: “It can be such a… oh, I don’t want to say ‘burden,’ but, uh… actually, I kind of do want to say ‘burden.’”

This troubles me on such a deep, deep level. I will be the first to say that raising a child, even in the very best of circumstances, is going to be probably the most difficult thing a person who chooses to have a child will do in their entire life. It is awful and hard and there are times when you wonder if you’re so emotionally distanced from your children that you would switch places with an alternate universe version of yourself and live a child free life without regret. But I hate hearing people who have them describe children as burdens. Maybe it’s because my son is autistic, and you hear on the news all the time about the burden of care placed on parents, usually as a justification for murder (seriously, look up stories about disabled kids being murdered by their caretakers, and see if “burden” isn’t used by at least one family friend). Even if it’s a neurotypical kid, it’s not cool to call them burdens. Joyce chose to have a kid, the kid turns out to be a good kid, but kind of a handful as a teen, and now she’s some martyr? THIS IS WHAT PARENTING IS, JOYCE. THIS IS WHAT YOU SIGNED ON FOR. Be frustrated. Be angry with your kid. Hell, wish you could flip a switch and change her personality entirely. But don’t call her a burden. She’s your fucking child, and she didn’t ask for you to conceive, grow, birth, and raise her. (#3)

Joyce notices a couple of books Giles has, and how weird they are:

Joyce: “Bristow’s Demon Index? Hell’s Offspring?”

Giles: “A hobby of mine. But having nothing to do with Buffy in any way.”

Good save, Giles.

As it turns out, Giles is also possessed by the facehugger, and he puts one on Joyce the moment she turns around. Buffy and Xander wake up in the closet and find two eggs, ready to hatch, right next to them.

WAIT.

We just saw Giles pick up an already hatched facehugger and put it on Joyce. Why didn’t the other possessed people just do that to Buffy and Xander?

They run directly to the library for Giles’s help, but he’s not there because xenomorph. It’s a good thing he left the book with the exact creature they’re fighting wide open on the desk for them to find. They also find an egg shell.

Down in the basement hole, a fleshy, Lovecraftian horror is emerging from the concrete people are cutting up with pick axes. Other people are harvesting eggs from the same hole. Seems like a risky system, to me. Having pick axes around all those eggs.

The monster is a Bezoar, a creature that basically pumps out these eggs so that it has walking around hosts to do its bidding. Standard Invasion of The Bodysnatchers stuff. Xander and Buffy have just read this when they hear a kid screaming in the hallway. It’s good old Jonathan, who I don’t think even has a name yet, does he? I can’t remember. Anyway, he’s totally fine the instant Buffy and Xander get there, so they know he’s been Facehugged, and they decide to follow him.

While Xander pretends to be possessed (in the hopes of stopping the spread of more eggs), Buffy goes for a weapon. She’s cornered by the Gorch brothers, who start a fight, and they tumble back into the Bezoar hole. The Gorches seem to have no idea about the Bezoar, so I’m guessing it wasn’t their great plan, after all. Xenomorph Willow orders the rest of the body-snatchees to kill Buffy and the Gorches, so vamps and Slayer team up and start taking them on, while simultaneously trying to beat up each other.

So. Wait. The Gorches are vampires… why are they only throwing punches at these people and not ripping their throats out and stuff? And why are their punches only human-strong and knocking people back? On that note, why is Buffy having such a hard time fighting off humans, even if they have been snatched? It’s not like the facehuggers are making them extra strong. If that were the case they wouldn’t need a whole chain of workers, and it would have taken four of them to drag Buffy and Xander into that closet. So, why is Buffy unable to render them at least unconscious? Why is she having just as much trouble fighting them as she is fighting the Gorches? (#16)

Xander runs after Cordelia and another person to try and get the eggs. Xander doesn’t want to hurt Cordelia, but she punches him in the head, and he punches her back, knocking her out. Xander is able to knock Cordelia out, but Buffy and the Gorches can’t knock out the people in the hole? Whatever. I want to focus more on the fact that here we have the Nice Guy male character, frustrated with his romantic partner, getting the opportunity to punch her in the face. Before anyone rushes to the comment box to explain that Cordelia is possessed and Xander had to defend himself, trust me to understand the plot of this episode. I know the reason he had to punch her. I also know that this show is written by a writer who could have easily not written a scene where Xander punches Cordelia, and I trust everybody else to keep that in mind, as well. The writers didn’t have to make Xander punch Cordelia. Buffy didn’t have to punch Willow, or Giles, or her mother. So why is the teenage boy, who’s already verbally abusive to his intimate partner, granted the opportunity to physically assault her? This is a show that has been hailed for its female empowerment. Should there really be a point, anywhere in the series, where someone striking their romantic partner is written as justifiable? (#6) Also, keep in mind that Marti Noxon wrote this episode. She took over as show runner in season six, in which Buffy beats up Spike (not because he’s a vampire; in this case, it’s just intimate partner violence), Spike attempts to rape Buffy and is redeemed and made a love interest again, the three evil nerds enslave a former romantic partner of one of them and kill her when she realizes what’s been done to her, and a female character is brutally murdered. Some of her work on this show was deeply, deeply problematic.

Tector Gorch decides that it’s somehow wise to engage the giant, pulsing, one-eyed horror encased in concrete, and ends up getting pulled in to be, I assume, eaten by the Bezoar. The Bezoar gets Buffy, too, but she manages to pull a pick axe in with her. After some gurgling noises, the facehuggers drop off everybody’s backs and they all fall unconscious, leaving Lyle Gorch very alone and very confused. He watches in horror and admiration as Buffy, covered in black slime, crawls out of the Bezoar hole. Seeing that she is clearly done with the bullshittery that has been her day, Lyle wisely decides to run, rather than engage.

Outside the school, dazed and dirty students emerge to Giles reassuring them that it was all a gas leak, and to go home and get fresh air. Willow and Cordelia both ask Xander if they hit him. Willow feels bad, Cordy just didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t hit him. Either way, Xander does not tell Cordelia that he punched her, and doesn’t act even slightly sorry for it.

Joyce catches up with Buffy, who tells her that she was in the gym when the gas leak happened. Joyce goes from “thank god you’re alive” to “why weren’t you in the library,” in like, two seconds, and even when Buffy reminds her that there was a gas leak, that’s not good enough. Buffy needs to learn some responsibility, and apparently a part of that responsibility is not being affected by gas leaks. A+ common sense, Joyce. PS., Buffy has a hugely visible contusion on her forehead, indicating that she, too, could have been one of the affected students. (#3)

Joyce grounds Buffy to her room until further notice, so cut to wet, smacking sounds as Buffy and Angel make out through the window, so as to subvert Buffy’s grounding. Then banter, and an uncomfortably long shot of making out.

So, this episode is one I really like. Yeah, the plot is derivative, some of the stuff is contrived, and I hate the Xander/Cordelia dynamic bullshit, but I don’t know. I just really like eggs. That, and I really like the continuation of the “Buffy is irresponsible” theme that will tie up her choices at the end of the season in a neat little bow.

The only things that bug me, from a storytelling perspective, are, what was the Gorches’ plan, if it wasn’t the Bezoar? And how did the Bezoar get its eggs into the kids’ hands, anyway? Was the health teacher possessed that whole time? Were the eggs in the grocery store? These are things one would like to know, before one approaches an egg with intent to scramble.

Trout Nation, The Phillips Family Needs You!

Hey everybody! Today, Alisha comes to you with a plea for help for her friends:

Hello, fellow denizens of the Trout Nation! My name is Alisha, and Jenny has graciously agreed to lend me space on her blog in the name of charity. Hail the Trout!

Now with the serious: This past Sunday, some dear friends of mine lost their house in a fire. Jamie, Ivan, and daughters Laci and Jaylie were just enjoying some barbeque and watching football with a group of friends … when a faulty propane tank set the house ablaze. Thankfully, everyone got out safely (Ivan was burned, but he’s okay). The fire fighters were able to rescue the family pets (yay!) and put the blaze out, but not before severe damage was done to the house, rendering it uninhabitable. Between heat, smoke, and water damage, most of the family’s belongings were destroyed as well.

I feel like shaking my fist at the gods and screaming, because it makes me so angry that this happened to THIS family – they are just the best kind of people, truly the kind of friends you can always count on, and I want to help them get back on their feet! To that end, I’m asking people to visit their online fundraiser at Give Forward (https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/khq5/the-phillips-family-fire-recovery-fund). There are more details there about the fire and also what the funds will be used for.

I know a lot of us are struggling financially and there are always a lot of causes to give to, so I appreciate Jenny giving me this blog space for my friends. If you can donate any amount, know it’s going to truly deserving people. Whether you can donate or not, please share the link if you can. Thank you!

Some of you may remember way, way back in the day when we raised $1,000.00 to help out Lin and Frank. At the time, I’d only made plans to recap the first 50 Shades of Grey book, but I promised that if we raised that $1K, I would recap the second two. And I made good on that promise. So today, I’m pledging that if the Phillips make their $5,000.00 goal, when the published version of After comes out in October, I will recap it.

If the idea of After recaps appeals to you, spread that link far and wide. If you can, maybe donate a little. For a family who’s lost everything, $5,000.00 is just the tip of the iceberg. Let’s help the Phillips family get back on their feet.

State of The Trout: Rabies Edition

“Jenny!” you might be scolding me. “You haven’t been blogging or updating things like, at all! What is wrong with you?”

Rabies. Or, more accurately, avoidance of rabies. If you follow me on Twitter (@Jenny_Trout), you may remember the bat excitement we had a couple weeks ago. Over a period of four nights, we had like, four or five bats. It may sound like something that would be easy to count, but after waiting for nightly battle like a stronghold under siege, ones’ memory gets murky. Anyway, since there were bats hanging out in our living space, not paying rent, possibly biting us in the night, we’re all having post exposure rabies vaccination. Which is fun for the whole family!

I’ve also been hard at work on various projects, including The Afflicted, which is long overdue for an update, and a Buffy recap, which is also long overdue, but I am now more than half finished with. I’m also plugging ahead hard to get The Ex finished. It is also more than halfway finished. But you’ll get the Buffy recap first.

Other things I have been doing are A) having something amazing happen to me in Chicago that I cannot share with you until I get permission from the Powers That Be, and B) knitting to calm my raging anxiety. Also, guesting on Doing It By The Book, where we talked about 50 Shades of Grey. If you guys have missed my snark, click that link. Apparently it’s been welling up in my diseased little heart since I quit doing my recaps, and KABOOM. Snarkcano.

I’ll have book news and a cover for The Ex really soon.

What are you guys up to?

The Sexual Violence of Non-consensual Nudity

Nude pictures of Jennifer Lawrence and several other young female celebrities were leaked on the internet today. That one sentence will elicit several responses. Some people will rush off to Google, to sate their curiosity. Some people will gleeful denounce her as a “slut” or think something to the effect of, “Well, she shouldn’t have taken them if she didn’t want people to see.” And only a very few people will feel sympathy for her, and recognize what distributing nude photographs without the subject’s express consent truly is: sexual assault.

The subject of nude selfies isn’t new. It’s been covered from so many angles, it’s practically a dodecahedron. Underaged girls sending their underaged boyfriends explicit photos of themselves have been accused of producing child pornography. Men sending unsolicited pictures of their genitals via text message has become so commonplace as to become the new normal. And if there’s a hot young actress or singer who hasn’t yet bared her body to our collective gaze through traditional media, there’s almost always discussion of how she’ll look “when her nudes leak.” We’ve become a society that feels entitled to the nudity of others; consent is not required, just as long as we get our fill of flesh.

The moment Lawrence’s private photos went on public display, social media erupted. Some Twitter users praised her body. Some criticized her figure. Neither seems an appropriate reaction to a gross invasion of privacy. Others bemoaned the low quality of the photos; this line of reasoning implies that if Lawrence was going to pose in the buff, she should have had the courtesy to provide us with the highest calibre revenge porn.

An overwhelming majority–mostly male–responded with images implying that they had ejaculated upon seeing the pictures, and jokes about uncontrollable masturbation. Confusing their personal sexual gratification for a genuine compliment seems to be the particular forte of heterosexual men. Some excitedly shared those images, but announced that they’d lost respect for the actress for taking the pictures they were so shamelessly enjoying.

Victim blaming runs thick in situations such as these. “If she didn’t want those pictures on the internet, she shouldn’t have taken them.” In other words, the price of these women’s private expressions of sexuality and joyous celebration of their bodies is public humiliation. Very little is said about the people stealing and releasing these photos, beyond the occasional words of gratitude to them for serving up what we are presumably owed.

“Don’t send nudes,” we tell our daughters, rather than telling our sons, “Don’t violate the privacy of a woman who trusted you enough to share herself with you in a playfully sexual context.” We don’t teach our children not to revel in revenge porn, we teach them to put boundaries on their sexual expression, to hide their bodies away, because that’s where the real shame is. Baring another human on a public stage for ridicule and critique is an excusable, even understandable, action.

We don’t tell our sons, “Don’t send people photos of your penis if they haven’t told you they’re okay with it.” It has become commonplace for men to send photos of their genitals in misguided attempts to woo potential partners, or to retaliate against some perceived wrong a woman has inflicted upon them. Why these men see romance and spite as two scenarios deserving of the same response is never examined. In fact, many men seem utterly baffled when their advances aren’t welcomed. “What do you mean you don’t want to see my penis? What are you, some kind of uptight feminist? Some kind of lesbian?”

Perhaps the most offensive aspect of our conflicting attitudes toward nudity and the importance of consent is that while women are derided for their own exploitation, the actions of a man forcing images of his genitals upon his victims are utterly erased when the tables are turned and his behavior is exposed.

As with all cases of sexual violence against women, we look so hard for ways to place responsibility on the victim, or to minimize the harm done to her. “It’s not rape rape,” people will argue. “It’s not like it hurt her.” Having aggressive male sexuality forced upon them is something women are expected to ignore, no matter how degraded they feel. Seeing their bodies thrown on the pyre of public scrutiny is something they deserve, their nude photos the scarlet letter that will brand them for the sin of having sexual urges or confidence in their bodies. “It serves her right, for treating a nice guy like dirt,” we say of revenge porn. “She was a bitch,” is accepted as reasonable justification for inflicting sexual harm.

Sharing photos of naked partners who did not consent to the release of their image, or sending explicit photos to people who did not consent to view them, is sexual violence. If a man walked up to a woman on the street and exposed himself, he would be arrested. If someone broke into another person’s house and took something that didn’t belong to them, it would be theft. A man who bragged about spying on a naked woman and masturbating while doing so may find himself on a public registry of sex offenders. Until we consider the violation of our digital privacy on par with the violation of our physical spaces, we perpetuate a cycle that encourages us to view female sexuality with scorn, and overt displays of sexual aggression from men as normal. There are only three appropriate responses to this problem: disgust at the perpetrators, unconditional support for the victims, and refusal to reward with praise and attention those who find entertainment in the exploitation and humiliation of women.

Merlin Club S03E05 “The Crystal Cave” or “Ewww OH MY GOD THAT’S HER DAD? That’s fucking gross, dude! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO’S GROSSED OUT HERE?”

Merlin club is a weekly feature in which Jessica Jarman, Bronwyn Green, and myself gather at 8pm EST to watch an episode of the amazing BBC series Merlin, starring Colin Morgan and literally nobody else I care about except Colin Morgan.

Okay, I lie. A lot of other really cool people are in it, too.

Anyway, we watch the show, we tweet to the hashtag #MerlinClub, and on Fridays we share our thoughts about the episode we watched earlier in the week.

So, here’s a quick rundown of episode five: After Arthur is wounded in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, some Random Mystical Dude wanders up and takes Merlin off to the Crystal Cave (again), where he sees this crazy vision of Morgana murdering Uther.

The Crystal Cave, incidentally, is what I call Bronwyn Green’s office.

It was actually filmed there.

Random Mystical Dude told Merlin to use what he sees “for good,” but Merlin does the opposite and decides to stop Morgana from killing Uther for some reason. Because we’re all still supposed to be stoked that he’s alive, I guess? So Merlin follows Morgana and stops her by giving her a closed head injury, which is basically a death sentence. Uther is all, “save her by any means necessary, and by that I mean do magic because it’s different when I want something via magic,” and then he’s like, “oh, beeteedubs, she’s my daughter.” And I’m like, “OMFG THEN WHY WERE YOU MAKING FUCK EYES AT HER FOR THE PAST TWO AND ONE THIRD SEASONS?!”

Merlin calls the dragon and forces him to help save Morgana, and of course when she’s awake again, she immediately tries to kill Uther. In fact, she’s even more pissed off at Uther than before, because he won’t acknowledge her as his heir. Merlin realizes that by trying to stop the future from happening, you make the shit you don’t want to happen actually happen. He and Morgana fight, she sets the castle on fire, and he implodes a window to stop her from killing Uther. Merlin learns nothing, just like every week.

If I had written this episode, I would have changed: The entire dynamic between Uther and Morgana for the rest of the entire series forever. Seriously, this episode took me by such gross, gross surprise, because Morgana being Uther’s daughter just doesn’t follow the rest of the series before this. I’ve pointed out the dodgy moments up until here, but think about if you were watching this show and you didn’t know that Morgana was biologically related to Uther. When he’s at her beside saying:

“Too beautiful.”

and

“I cannot watch her die, Gaius.”

and

“No, you don’t understand. I cannot lose her. No matter what happens, she cannot die.”

I’m thinking, “Okay, here it comes. He’s going to say he’s in love with her, and then she’s going to be forced to marry him, and that will make her queen, and she’ll murder him on their wedding night, and it will be all dramatic and she’ll rule Camelot in darkness etc.”

And then he outright asks Gaius to use sorcery to cure her:

“No, Gaius. Whatever it takes. Whatever, I don’t care. You must save her.”

“I don’t care what remedy you use.”

“There must be something. Something in the old religion?”

Who was the last person he used sorcery on? HIS WIFE. So, it’s on, right?

NOPE:

“Gaius, you don’t understand. There’s something you should know. Something I’ve told no one. Morgana is my daughter.”

WHAT THE FUCK, WRITERS?! This is something I didn’t see coming–and not in the good way where you sit back and admire the skill with which the plot was subtly woven in and yet so obvious in hindsight. It was in the holy shit, this makes no sense and I feel like I’m suddenly watching an entirely different show way. You know. The Moffat way.

The thing I loved most about this episode: The way Morgana’s dress billows in this scene:

 

It’s really the only thing good about this episode.

The thing I hated most about this episode: Besides the obvious, I really dislike how many mysterious forest dwelling sorcerers magically appear to Merlin all the time. Oh, and the fact that Merlin can never decide what he wants and is always flip-flopping. He was willing to poison Morgana when he just suspected she might be a danger to Camelot. Now he knows for sure that she’s going to murder the king, and Merlin just can’t let her die? Bullshit, I sayeth.

Something I never noticed before:  Gaius’s Harry Potter glasses. Which leads me to:

Favorite Costume: 

Here is proof of some random headcanon I created: This episode is blunt, jarring proof of my RPF head canon about the writers and show runner(s), and how they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that their hidden daughter B story was turning into some kind of backwoods isolated mountain community horror movie family dynamic.

What object would Bronwyn steal from this episode? I think a mirror you could write messages on, then reveal with your breath, would be something up Bronwyn’s alley. Her youngest son would probably steal it from her, but I think they would both be thrilled by it:

What Merthur moment did Jess have the naughtiest thoughts about? This is the ultimate Merthur moment, right here:

Merlin, crying and washing Arthur’s blood off his hands. So much angst fic in this, guys.

Check out Jessica Jarman’s take on the episode here

Check out Bronwyn Green’s take on the episode here

That’s it for this week. Join us next week for S03E06, “The Changeling,” Monday,  8pm EST on the hashtag #MerlinClub.

 

Best Of: Recent Spam Comments

Of all the dubious titles that fall under the umbrella designation of “Blog Owner,” “Comment Moderator” is probably my least favorite. See, back when I was running off of Word Press’s own site, and not running my own site with a WP plug-in, I never had to worry about spam comments. They just kind of slipped into a net of Word Press’s own design, and if I did get one, I could just magically remove it.

Now, things are different. I have to go in and moderate my spam comments, because comments from you get sucked in there, sometimes. That’s not so bad, but if I want to avoid the comments, say on some really contentious post about a pop song that I didn’t realize was a holy text or something, I can’t do that. I have to go in and sort them out. And I approve them all, even if they’re nasty and rude, because I don’t want to be that disingenuous person who tries to make it seem like everyone believes the sun shines out of her ass.

There is one good part of spam comment moderating. I get to read all the spam comments. Usually, you can tell if it’s spam from the dummy email address, which will invariably have “Louis Vuitton” or “Oakley Cheap” in them. But sometimes, oh, sometimes, you strike spam comment gold:

outside Mike Rust’s ramshackle compound tucked into the base of Copper Butte, you can just make out Great Sand Dunes National Park, 60 miles east across Colorado’s expansive San Luis Valley. The dunes form when southwest winds whip up sand on the valley floor that was left behind when ancient lakes receded. Here a saddle in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains stalls the gusts, allowing the sands to accumulate.

That’s downright poetic, for something attached to a comment pushing knock-off Nikes.

Sometimes, spam shows up to make you feel good about yourself:

Hurrah, that’s what I was exploring for, what a material!

existing here at this webpage, thanks admin of this website.

You’re welcome, Spamtron3000! It’s nice to feel appreciated.

If you’re trying to plan an event, spam comments are there for you, too:

I’m not kidding myself. My voice alone is just an ordinary voice. What people come to see is how I use it. Invitations are your chance to make a great first impression on your guests. Use homemade rock themed invitations to set the party off on the right note. A simple ticket design is ideal for a rock party.

Huh. I’ve never thought of throwing a rock party. But the philosophical bent at the beginning of the comment makes me realize that if I use my ordinary voice, alone, I am never truly alone, because I have lots of friends at my party:

This club is jumpin’ off tonight! (That’s a thing youths say, right?)

At other times, I’m disturbed by the dystopian hell-world these comments describe:

officials told Newswatch 16 this error around the time of the fire may lead to a personnel issue. Right now, they aren talking about what specifically happened. Should die. In their shows they tossed hula hoops into the audience, encouraging people to do the hoop dance (13). The new combination of music dance and fitness weight loss exercises (especially music videos) has made the fitness programs more appealing to the people. Especially, the people who were not internally motivated enough to do physical exercises routinely on a daily or weekly basis became more interested in doing physical exercise by joining the group dance fitness programs.

Wait, so… did “the hoop dance” start the fire? Are the people who are are doing the hoop dance the ones who “Should die.”? Or the people who are enforcing the hoop dancing? I’m so confused, and frankly, pretty frightened.

Other comments find my already dense, novel-length posts too brief for their liking:

I do trust all the ideas you have presented for your post.

They are very convincing and can definitely work.

Nonetheless, the posts are very brief for novices.

Could you please lengthen them a bit from next time? Thanks for the post.

Awww yeah. Spambot can’t get enough of the J.

The J, by the way, is like my version of “the D.” Because I’m Peggy Hill and I have to change everything to say my name in it.

Spam comments may seem pretty useless, but check this out:

North Korea relies heavily on China for food and fuel aid and many consumer products. Chinese companies are the main investors in North Korean mining, and the sides recently signed agreements on road building and jointly developing an industrial park on an island near the Chinese city of Dandong.

See? You didn’t know that before. I’m not sure if it’s true, and I don’t know when I’ll use this information, but now I know it! It may have replaced something important in the finite storage capacity of my brain–WHEE! I DON’T KNOW LONG DIVISION ANYMORE!–but it was free learnin’ and you can’t get much better than that.

The next time you see me on twitter, raging about the sometimes ridiculous, pretentious, often hateful and degrading comments I have to plow through to separate the real people wheat from the spam chaff, don’t worry about me. I have a bunch of delightful spam to experience. And a rock party to throw.