Month: December 2015

This is the chapter where if anyone knows anything about radio, we could use some fact checking. So even if you don’t generally read these recaps, it would be swell if you’d take a look at a section toward the end where radio wattage and frequency is being discussed.

Let’s have some happy news this time, about Fifty Shades of Grey-related movies, rather than the actual tragedy that will undoubtedly be the second movie.

First up, Marlon Wayans has given Fifty Shades the Scary Movie treatment. His parody, Fifty Shades of Black, will be out in January 2016, just a month before Fifty Shades Darker was supposed to have hit the screen. Knowing Wayans, the movie will probably be raunchy and in very poor taste, which is like, the #1 reason I like his movies in the first place. I feel like I should send him flowers and a thank you card for making my dreams come true with this one.

Also? Fifty Shades of Grey star and my imaginary girlfriend, a.k.a. most adorable woman alive, Dakota Johnson, has a new movie coming out soon with two of my other lady crushes, Leslie Mann and Rebel Wilson, called How To Be Single. Does it look like the most feminist and diverse thing that’s ever happened to cinema? Not at all. But it isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey, for which we can all be thankful.

Now, let’s plunge ourselves into something far more ridiculous. Let’s get into this recap of part three of the chapter that will probably never end.

Content warning: fat hate, disordered eating, and every other warning you’ve already heard about Jessica Jones (rape, PTSD, violence, misogyny, all sorts of warnings that fat women don’t deserve).

You’re on the internet, so I assume you’ve heard of, if not already binge watched, the Netflix/Marvel series, Jessica Jones. The show has been praised–rightfully so–for its unflinching, unapologetic themes of rape, PTSD, and even the sinister, casual misogyny of a man telling a woman to smile.

If the title of this post drew you in because you’re looking for another fawning think piece about how refreshing and wholly feminist this marvel (no pun intended) of a modern superhero franchise is, you’re probably the exact feminist I want to have a confrontation with.

I’d heard so many wonderful things about the show, so I tried it. It sucked me in immediately. About seven minutes into the first episode, our heroine is on a fire escape, spying through people’s windows. She sees a fat woman running on a treadmill. The woman steps down and retrieves a fast food burger to messily gorge herself on while Jones looks on and sneers, “two minutes on the treadmill, twenty minutes on a quarter-pounder.”

Despite the claims of notorious fat hating internet enclaves, there hasn’t been an outcry over this “triggering” content. And that’s what I–a sniveling, cowardly SJW, just to get that bit out of the way–am concerned about.

You know about trigger warnings–the term “content warning” is preferable, as it doesn’t appropriate or water-down terminology pertaining specifically to PTSD–because everyone on your Facebook timeline is complaining about them. Trigger warnings are everywhere, coddling the gentle feelings of a generation doomed to failure from being handled with white kid gloves, or so increasingly crusty fellow Gen Xers have decided. So where was the warning for that fat shaming joke that the pathetic, bottom-feeding Reddit dwellers so gleefully noted the absence of? Like most of the online drama that feeds their oxygen-deprived, shriveled little erections, the outcry was totally manufactured. In fact, when I googled the quote, not a single result on the first two pages were about the joke itself, but the overblown reaction the fat haters believed everyone was having.

So where the fuck was the overblown reaction, guys? Where was the trigger warning everyone thinks wasn’t needed? Where the fuck was it? There have been plenty of content warnings for rape, for violence, for suicide, for PTSD flashbacks. Was there no compassion or consideration left for the fat women? If even the fat shamers believed that the absence of a trigger warning should be cause for outrage, where the fuck were you? In a day and age where a marine biology Tumblr tags its posts with the mind-bogglingly obvious “TW: water”, where was a single social media feminist when your fat sisters were being brutally let down? And not just let down, but mocked for a reaction that wasn’t happening at all, let alone on the scale dreamed up by a bunch of sentient pubic hairs on the internet?

“But it’s feminist here! And over here!” you might be tempted to cry. Put a hold on that transaction, because I’m not buying. If I’m willing to cop to my seasonal worship of the misogynist shit-fest that is Love, Actually, you can good and goddamn admit that your unproblematic fave has two lines that are problematic, and you can take two seconds out of your day to acknowledge that and give fat women a head’s up.

By the end of the first episode, it was clear that this is going to be a show I love, and I’m going to stick with it all the way to the end because I am thoroughly enchanted. Krysten Ritter is, without any whiff of overstatement, flawless. The writing–in the first episode, at least–is tight as a drum, and it’s probably the only time I’ve seen a television character who wasn’t Olivia Benson tell a rape survivor that her assault wasn’t her fault. Jessica Jones is a great show. I was about to gush to my husband about how great it was, when I realized that he might want to watch it as a result. I thought about all the times he’s seen me red faced and sweating after a run, how many times I’ve tried to diet only to say “fuck it all!” and launch into some Taco Bell. How many times he’s seen me launch into some Taco Bell when I wasn’t saying “fuck it all!” to a diet and eating just because damn, I love those chicken quesadillas so much. I thought of him seeing the smart, strong Jessica Jones saying something I’d said to myself in my deepest moments of self-hatred a million times before. I thought about a following scene, where Jones tucks carelessly into a sandwich that will be the only thing we see her consume in this episode besides booze. And I thought about how embarrassing all of that was when combined. Even though I know that my husband doesn’t care about my weight–a shocking claim that would no doubt be denounced as a delusion or an outright lie by the slobbering anti-fat internet masses–, even though I know he’s still with me when I can’t stand being with myself, I would be mortified to watch that episode with him. So when he asked how it was, I didn’t do what I wanted to do, which was to grab him and shake him and scream in his face, “Why the fuck haven’t we watched this yet? What is wrong with us?” Instead, I shrugged and said, “It’s okay.”

And that’s me, a fat woman who no longer flirts with disordered eating, who no longer laments that her gag reflex can’t be triggered by something so puny as an index finger. A woman who would now be comfortable getting a tattoo of a Taco Bell chicken quesadilla on her forehead with the words “Fuck it all! Taco Bell!” in letters that replace her eyebrows. I can’t imagine how it must feel to women who haven’t developed a thicker skin yet, who haven’t overcome demons that will wake up hungry and cranky when they see a sweating fat woman eat a burger followed by a rail-thin beauty devouring a sandwich. I can’t imagine how many women turned off the show right there and missed all the powerful feminist content everyone is lauding. And all anyone needed to do to protect them was to mention how the show failed here. A single line in the middle of a four-thousand word praise orgy would have sufficed. A single word in defense to our legions of haters would have been even better.

Look, I’m a realist. Fat shame is here to stay. As long as horrible people are brutally oppressed by having to be nice to the people who count, fat people–who obviously don’t count–will be the target of impotent, frustrated egos that need to lash out at their own insecurities. Would I have preferred that Jessica Jones didn’t feature a fat shaming joke? Of course, especially since the production is helmed by a female show runner and is being praised as a feminist masterpiece. Do I think the show is irredeemably antifeminist because of it? Absolutely not. Do I want to prevent future episodes from being filmed, picket Netflix headquarters, and demand a full apology? Of course not. I’m not one of the fragile, fascist fatties who demand everyone worship us as sexual objects and who were completely invented by the gong farmers of the internet, because those types of fat people don’t exist. But you know what I do want? Some admission by my fellow feminists that fat women deserve just as much consideration and protection as every other woman. It’s one thing to declare that fat is a feminist issue. It’s another entirely to bother to do anything with that information. All you needed was a single content warning hashtag. All you needed was to acknowledge that we could be hurt by such a cheap, throwaway joke. And you didn’t.

Quick rundown of the episode: James Purefoy showed his wang.

Okay, other stuff happened, too. Like, for example, Pompey’s group is sitting around in tents, all uncomfortable, while his son, Quintus, skins somebody alive. They learn that the gold they were looking for ran afoul of Caesar’s scouts, but Caesar doesn’t have it, either. Quintus is dispatched to find whoever took the money.

Atia is throwing her uncle a welcome home party, which is a big deal, because she wants to cement her status as first lady of the city. I mean, Caesar is married, but the real threat to Atia is Servilia, because she’s the chick Caesar is passionate about, in an extramarital way. Meanwhile, Octavia has figured out that her mother probably killed her husband.

Lucius Vorenus is getting ready for the grand opening of his grocery store, which involves a lot of praying. Way more praying than I usually run into at parties. But Mark Antony has shit he needs to say, and he needs to say it in the nude. And he shows his wang. And the Lord looked up on it, and he saw that it was good. Antony doesn’t think Vorenus is going to be able to pull off the whole grocery store thing. He offers him a promotion and a bonus to come back to the army, but Vorenus won’t let a bag of gold turn his head.

So, two parties are happening. At one, Servilia and Caesar are seeing each other for the first time in eight years, but they’re playing it cool. Niobe’s sister, Lyde, is trying to play it cool, too, but it’s her husband that Niobe was making out with last week, so some shit clearly went down while Vorenus was away, and it is shit that Lyde cannot keep together at all.

Caesar knows that he has to have the people on his side, and he plans to do that by buying a good sign from the priests. Speaking of religious signs, Lyde gets hammered drunk and knocks over the religious icon that’s supposed to be bringing them good luck or whatever for their business. Niobe is cleaning up the pieces when Quintus Pompey rolls in with his gang. They’re going to cut up Niobe so Vorenus tells them where the stolen gold is. Except, he doesn’t know where it is. And the man who does know where it is gets there at exactly the wrong time. Titus Pullo arrives in a litter, tossing handfuls of gold, with the slave girl from the last episode all dressed up in nice clothes and a shit ton of jewelry. There is a massive brawl, in which Vorenus and Pullo take Quintus hostage. They deliver him to Caesar at Atia’s house. Because having the son of his enemy is a pretty good thing, and since Caesar had no idea there was any missing gold in the first place, he doesn’t punish Pullo for spending some of it. But they do take the rest.

Atia figures out that Servilia is fucking Caesar, and Pullo figures out that Niobe was fucking Lyde’s husband. This is bad news for both Servilia and Lyde’s husband. And Lyde, come to think of it. Pompey gets Caesar’s message telling him to disarm and give up, but Pompey isn’t having it. He thinks he can still win, even without money or like, even being in the city at all. Caesar gets the religious sign he’s paid for, and now Pompey doesn’t even have the will of the people behind him. He’s basically on an extended camping trip for the rest of his life now.

My favorite part of the episode: Atia’s recipe for putting oak in someone’s penis. It’s eating goat testicles. Just in case you were developing a “distinctly feminine anima” and you wanted to correct that or something. Goat testicles.

My least favorite part of the episode: Caesar’s seizure (say that a few times out loud, for funsies) is historically inaccurate. Caesar was definitely a part of the epileptic cool people brigade, but his seizures are recorded as being more like simple or complex partials, not the grand mal he’s shown having. The speed of his recovery from the seizure is also pretty unrealistic. He’s full blown tonic-clonic in one breath, totally functional (albeit out of breath) in the next.

Favorite costume:  Even though nobody is wearing them, Atia’s wigs:

Team Atia or Team Servilia: Servilia. Atia completely humiliated herself with her clumsy manipulation attempts at the party. Step up your game. I know you can do better.

Favorite watch-a-long tweet:

Even back then people were drawing dicks everywhere #LegionXIII

— Dylan Bimberg (@dylanbim) December 1, 2015

What hairdo or costume would Bronwyn steal? I actually debated on this one, but I think Niobe’s fancy up-do might be the one:

Guess Jess’s head canon. There’s naked Mark Antony and oil wrestling involved. Vorenus may or may not be there. But I think he’s there.

Now go check out Bronwyn’s and Jess’s posts, and join us Monday at 9 PM EST for season one, episode five, “The Ram Has Touched The Wall”. Tweet to #LegionXIII to join us!

 

Hey there everybody! I don’t have a lot of news to report, but I did want to let you know that my depressive episode I reported on before is thankfully over with. Thanks for all the messages of concern and support you guys gave me, I really appreciate that.

In other news:

• There’s a new chapter of my free historical horror serial, The Afflicted available on Wattpad right now.
• So, have you heard of people decorating their planners and stuff? I couldn’t get my head around why someone would want to do that, so I looked into it and, like many of my hobbies, that led to me actually doing it. People spend tons of money on stickers and washi tape and all these special doodads, but I’m cheap at heart, so I started making my own. On the off chance they could be useful to you, here’s a printable file. These are sized for the Erin Condren planner, and match the 2016 January color scheme. There are header stickers for work, home, and self, as well as a checklist for a.m. and p.m. meds, and some full-box ombre checklists. I print mine on matte paper so I can write on them. Feel free to share them if you like them and know someone who does this kind of stuff.
• At 3 p.m. EST today (in about an hour and a half of this posting, yay for my promptness) I’ll be hanging out at the Facebook release party for A.L. Davroe’s Nexis, out today from Entangled Teen. Check out this book:

In the domed city of Evanescence, appearance is everything. A Natural Born among genetically altered Aristocrats, all Ella ever wanted was to be like everyone else. Augmented, sparkling, and perfect. Then…the crash. Devastated by her father’s death and struggling with her new physical limitations, Ella is terrified to learn she is not just alone, but little more than a prisoner.

Her only escape is to lose herself in Nexis, the hugely popular virtual reality game her father created. In Nexis she meets Guster, a senior player who guides Ella through the strange and compelling new world she now inhabits. He offers Ella guidance, friendship…and something more. Something that allows her to forget about the “real” world and makes her feel whole again. But when their separate worlds collide, Ella will have to choose between love and survival. Because Nexis isn’t quite the game everyone thinks it is.

And it’s been waiting for Ella.

Nexis is available at online retailers now.

That’s all I’ve got this time around. Look for a Grey recap this week, and possibly a much happier video from me to wash the taste of the depression one out of your brain.