Author: JennyTrout

Here’s Roadhouse, episode 19, where we’re going to talk about Klango Fett and body image:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaakMHBr268]

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idvjljJ7-mg]

A lot of you have left comments or tweeted or emailed me to let me know about the broken links on the main recap page. Thank you so much, everyone, because while I knew one or two posts were missing, I had no idea there were soooo many of them with broken links. I will be working to get these fixed, I promised. Right now, I have to figure out if they’re broken because I messed up, or because the posts didn’t export to this blog, or something like that. Please know that I am working on it.

Now, I want to introduce you to someone very special.

Ana tells Christian she recognizes it’s Jack from his earrings and the shape of his shoulders and build. She thinks he’s wearing a wig, or he’s cut and dyed his hair. Which throws me for a bit of a loop, because I had been visualizing Jack Hyde as Rufus from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

“you seem to have studied your ex-boss in some detail, Mrs. Grey,” he murmurs, sounding none too pleased.

“Was it about you, or me?”

“Me.” He sighs.

“What sort of things? About your lifestyle?”

I love that this is still being portrayed as something that would ruin Christian Grey, both personally and professionally. He likes to spank women in his sex dungeon. As far as I’m aware, that’s probably the first and mildest vice anyone is going to suspect a billionaire of getting up to. I mean, off the top of my head, I imagine Donald Trump jacks off while personally slaughtering the urban foxes that are later fashioned into his stupid wigs (and he can’t sue me for saying that because THIS POST IS INTENDED AS SATIRE). So, “He’s into some kink,” isn’t going to shock the plebs, we all think rich people are up to deviant shit nonstop. It isn’t as though Christian Grey is making snuff films or feeding unruly servants to eels or anything.

Apparently, the car Jack Hyde drives is a 2006 Camaro. You guys, I’m so glad this came up, because CAR PORN TIMES:

“Well, Mrs. Grey, it seems that you are not only decorative, but useful, too.” Christian’s eyes light up with wicked amusement. I know he’s teasing.

Oh, so he doesn’t really think you’re useful? I assume that’s the part he’s teasing you about. What the shit is that? He’s saying, quite clearly, that the only value he thought Ana had was her looks. Did he go to the Dowager Countess Grantham School For Backhanded Compliments?

“Hungry?” he asks.

“No.”

“I am.”

“What for?”

“Well – food actually.”

OMG, they flipped it! This time it wasn’t about sex! E.L. James is truly a treasure of human wit! They have the longest conversation ever about what he wants to eat, and they repeatedly call each other Mr. and Mrs. Grey because it wasn’t tiresome at all when they were calling each other Mr. Grey and Miss Steele, and I certainly can’t get enough of it and I hope it just keeps going on and on and on until one or both of them is dead by my hand.

Ana goes to the kitchen to make the MOST NEEDLESSLY DRAMATIC SANDWICH OF ALL TIME:

“Um – so what does Christian like in a, um… sub?” I frown, struck by what I’ve just said. Does Mrs. Jones understand the inference?

Ana seems to actually believe that everyone in the universe is obsessed with Christian Grey’s sex life. What’s spooky is, since this book has come out, that’s kind of become true.

“Barefoot and in the kitchen,” he murmurs.

“Shouldn’t that be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?” I smirk.

He stills, his whole body tensing against me. “Not yet,” he declares, apprehension clear in his voice.

Too late, dummies!

They continue to make the MOST NEEDLESSLY DRAMATIC SANDWICH OF ALL TIME until a section break, after which Christian and Ana look over the plans for the remodel of their new house, and it turns into what I’m sure was an unintentional metaphor for their entire relationship:

“[…] I fell in love with the house as it was… warts and all.”

Christian’s brow furrows as if this is anathema to him.

BOOM. The reason I know this is totally unintentional on E.L. James’s part is because it’s clear from her repeated statements in the media that she doesn’t find their relationship unhealthy at all. But right here, we have Ana, the girl Christian picked to mold and shape and change through all his bullshit contract requirements about what to eat and how she’s supposed to work out and what clothing she’s allowed to wear, saying she likes something as it is, even if it’s not her idea of perfection, and he can’t possibly understand the concept. Now, I’m 100% fucking certain that E.L. put this in to show us that Christian doesn’t understand how Ana can love him as he is, without changing, or to prove to the reader that Ana really can love him despite all his flaws. But it actually says more about Christian’s inability to have a relationship with anyone he isn’t controlling and smashing into the mold he wants them to fit into.

After they’re done looking at the plans for the house, which includes more talk about how they don’t want to start a family yet, because when E.L. James looked up “foreshadowing” in the dictionary, this picture was next to the definition:

We have sat here three, maybe four times total, and Christian usually reads a book. He’s not interested in television at all. I curl up beside him on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me and resting my head against his shoulder. He switches on the flat-screen television with the remote and flicks mindlessly through the channels.

“Any specific drivel you want to see?”

Try not to be too condescending there, Chedward.

I’m going to get on my soapbox here and say:

I flush. “Of course.” Well, kind of…

“What! Who with?”

Oh no. I do not want to have this discussion.

“Tell me,” he persists.

I gaze down at my knotted fingers. He gently covers my hands with one of his. When I glance up at him, he’s smiking at me.

“I want to know. So I can beat whoever it was to a pulp.”

I giggle. “Well, the first time…”

“The first time! There’s more than one fucker?” He growls.

“We’re supposed to be making out.” I groan.

Christian stills. “I thought we were.”

“No. No sex.”

And then they have sex. Okay, so I get the whole, “let’s not have sex/let’s have sex now” thing is often used in romantic scenes, but this concerns me because remember, when they’re doing BDSM stuff nowadays, they’re not using safe words anymore, he’s just going to stop when she asks to stop. But right here, she has initiated sexual activity, she’s saying, “No sex,” and the first thing he does is set off on a quest to get her to have intercourse. He won’t play by the rules of her game, probably because they’re her rules. This isn’t inspiring a lot of confidence for that whole, “We don’t need safe words,” thing.

After boring and repetitive sex, Christian turns the sound on the tv to watch X-Files. He says he liked the show when he was a kid, but Ana says it was before her time. Wait, what? This book was published in 2011, right? So Ana was twenty-two in 2011, meaning she was thirteen when The X-Files was cancelled. Now, I can see why maybe a kid who’s ten or eleven wouldn’t be into the show, and there’s no law that everyone has to watch The X-Files.

Which reminds me… I shift, propping myself up on my elbows to see him better. “Why were you shouting at Sawyer?”

He stiffens immediately. Oh shit.

“Because we were followed.”

“That wasn’t Sawyer’s fault.”

He gazes at me levelly. “They should never have let you get so far in front. They know that.”

“Look, I realize that it was my choice to drive separately from our security, but they’re the ones who had the audacity to not be in the car with us when we were being followed. Also, they should have kept up with us, even though I encouraged you to drive like ninety miles an hour in an R8 when they were in an SUV. They should have swapped out for a sports car at the drop of a hat.”

“Enough!” Christian is suddenly curt. “This is not up for discussion, Anastasia. It’s a fact, and they won’t let it happen again.”

 Anastasia! I am Anastasia when I am in trouble, just like at home with my mother.

Because your husband infantilizes you. He’s also clearly an American Conservative, because he’s insisting his opinion is a fact and refusing to entertain common sense.

Ana asks Christian if they ever caught up to the woman in the Dodge:

“Sawyer saw someone with their hair tied back, but it was a brief look. He assumed it was a woman. Now, given that you’ve identified that fucker, maybe it was him. He wore his hair like that.” The disgust in Christian’s voice is palpable.

But I thought Jack Hyde drove a Camaro. Oh, please. Don’t do this to me, E.L. Please tell me you know the difference between Chevy and Dodge?

The next morning, Christian rides with Ana to work, but this time, security is in the car with them. They have the longest good-bye in the history of long good-byes. Why can’t these nimrods ever just say, “See you at five, have a good day?” Oh, because romance, I forgot.

Since Ana left on her honeymoon, shit has changed at SIP. For example:

Hannah is my assistant. She is tall, slim, and ruthlessly efficient to the point that sometimes I find her a little intimidating. But she’s sweet to me, in spite of the fact that she’s a couple of years older.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Errant Wives

Date: August 22 2011 09:56

To: Anastasia Steele

Wife

I sent the e-mail below and it bounced.

And it’s because you haven’t changed your name.

Something you want to tell me?

First of all, Christian, your email didn’t bounce because she hasn’t changed her name. It bounced because she hasn’t changed her email address. An hour after arriving at work, just back from her honeymoon, she hasn’t changed her email address to reflect her name change, and this is assumed to be a clear signal by her new husband? What a fucking psycho.

Ana emails him back saying she’s not planning to change her name at work, and asks to discuss it that evening, as she has a meeting to go to:

As the meeting progresses, I grow more and more uncomfortable. There’s a subtle change in how my colleagues are treating me – a distance and deference that wasn’t there before I left for my honeymoon. And from Courtney, who heads up the nonfiction division, there’s downright hostility. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but it goes some way to explaining Elizabeth’s odd greeting this morning.

My mind drifts back to the yacht, then to the playroom, then to the R8 speeding away from the mystery Dodge on I-5. Perhaps Christian’s right… perhaps I can’t do this anymore.

“If you’ll excuse me, Roach, I’d like a word with Ms. Steele.” Christian hisses the S sibilantly… sarcastically.

How do you not say “s” sibilantly? Either way, imagine Robert Pattinson saying this line, stressing every S. It will be the best laugh you’ve had in days. It certainly was for me.

After making a comment about how small her office is – expect a new office in an hour, Ana – Christian says:

“I’m just looking over my assets.”

“Your assets? All of them?”

“All of them. Some of them need rebranding.” 

“Christian, I’m working.”

“Looked like you were gossiping with your assistant to me.”

 Two women speaking to each other is always “gossiping” isn’t it? But when two men talk, even if they’re gossiping, it’s “networking” or “discussing.” Fuck this bullshit. I hope Christian Grey’s dick falls off.

There’s a knock on the door. “Come in!” I shout, too loudly.

Hannah opens the door and brings in a small tray. Milk jug, sugar bowl, coffee in a French press – she’s gone all out. She places the tray on my desk.

“Thank you, Hannah,” I mutter, embarrassed that I have just shouted so loudly.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Grey?” she asks, all breathless. I want to roll my eyes at her.

“I like to make the odd impromptu visit. It keeps management on their toes, wives in their place. You know.”

 “Are you ashamed of me?” he asks, his voice deceptively soft.

“No! Christian, of course not!” I scowl. “This is about me – not you.” Jeez, he’s exasperating sometimes. Silly overbearing megalomaniac.

“How is this not about me?” He cocks his head to one side, genuinely perplexed, some of his detachment slipping as he stares at me with wide eyes, and I realize that he’s hurt.

That’s called a narcissistic injury. Seriously, he can’t understand why someone would not want to advertise that they got their job by sleeping with the dude who owns the company? All he’s focusing on is that the object he acquired to have sex with doesn’t want to do as it’s told.

“Christian, when I took this job, I’d only just met you,” I say patiently, struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t know you were going to buy the company.”

What can I say about that event in our brief history? His deranged reasons for doing so – his control freakery, his stalker tendencies gone mad, given completely free reign because he is so wealthy. I know he wants to keep me safe, but it’s his ownership of SIP that is the fundamental problem here. If he’d never interfered, I could continue as normal and not have to face the disgruntled and whispered recrimination of my colleagues.

See, this concept is so simple, even Ana gets it. ANA GETS IT. I feel like I can’t stress how simple this is if Ana is able to grasp the fundamental truth of it.

Ana asks Christian why it’s so important that she change her name:

“I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I am yours – look.” I hold up my left hand, showing my wedding and engagement rings.

“I want your world to begin and end with me,” he says, his expression raw. HIs comment completely derails me. It’s like he’s punched me hard in the stomach, winding and wounding me.

Ana says:

“It does,” I say without guile, because it’s the truth. “I’m just trying to establish a career, and I don’t want to trade on your name. I have to do something, Christian. I can’t stay imprisoned at Escala or the new house with nothing to do. I’ll go crazy. I’ll suffocate. I’ve always worked, and I enjoy this. This is my dream job; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But doing this doesn’t mean I love you less. You are the world to me.” My throat swells and tears prick the backs of my eyes. I must not cry, not here. I repeat it over and over in my head.  I must not cry. I must not cry.

Keeping in mind, this entire time, she’s at work. Have you ever worked with someone whose partner would show up at work and upset them? I have. It happens often in ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS.

And then, this bullshit happens:

“Look, we were talking about my name. I want to keep my name here because I want to put some distance between you and me… but only here, that’s all. You know everyone thinks I got the job because of you, when the reality is – ” I stop when his eyes widen. Oh no… it is because of him?

“Do you want to know why you got the job, Anastasia?”

Anastasia? Shit. “What? What do you mean?”

He shifts in his chair as if steeling himself. Do I want to know?

“The management here gave you Hyde’s job to babysit. They didn’t want the expense of hiring a senior executive when the company was mid-sale. They had no idea what the new owner would do with it once it passed into his ownership, and wisely, they didn’t want an expensive redundancy. So they gave you Hyde’s job to caretake until the new owner” – he pauses, and his lips twitch in an ironic smile – “namely me, took over.”

Holy crap! “What are you saying?” So it was because of him. Fuck! I’m horrified.

“So one of the reasons I’m here – apart from dealing with my errant wife,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “is to discuss what I am going to do with this company.”

Errant wife! I am not errant, and I’m not an asset! I scowl at Christian again and the threat of tears subsides.

“So what are your plans?” I incline my head to one side, mirroring him, and I can’t help my sarcastic tone. His lips twitch with the hint of a smile. Whoa – change of mood, again! How can I ever keep up with Mr. Mercurial?

“I’m changing the name of the company – to Grey Publishing.”

Holy shit.

“And in a year’s time, it will be yours.”

My mouth drops open once more – wider this time.

“This is my wedding present to you.”

I shut my mouth then open it, trying to articulate something – but there’s nothing there. My mind is blank.

“So, do I need to change the name to Steele Publishing?”

“You’re also the most well-read person I know,” he counters earnestly. “You love a good book. You couldn’t leave your job while we were on our honeymoon. You read how many manuscripts? Four?”

“Five,” I whisper.

Seriously? She read five manuscripts in three weeks, and he thinks that’s impressive? For an editor? I know an editor who read four manuscripts in a day last week.

Then, this other bullshit happens:

His eyes darken… in that way.  Oh no – I know that look. Sultry, seductive, salacious… No, no, no! Not here.

Yup. Christian thinks that after disrupting Ana’s day, causing a scene at her job, telling her she only got her position because he bought it for her, he thinks she’s going to fuck him:

“We’re in a small, reasonably sound-proofed office with a lockable door,” he whispers.

“Christian, no. I mean it. You can fuck me seven shades of Sunday this evening. But not now. Not here!”

Before I read Fifty Shades of Grey, I had no idea that people used “x shades of n” as a legit expression. I mean, it’s used so often in here, I assume it must actually be an expression, right? I don’t know at this point, and trying to google it just leads to shit about these stupid fucking books. Whatever, at least we know what the inevitable sequels will be called.

Also, they’ll be about body-snatching aliens who are in no way plagiarized from The Host.

“Seven shades of Sunday?” He arches an eyebrow, intrigued. “I may hold you to that, Ms. Steele.”

“Oh, stop with the Ms. Steele!” I snap and thump the desk, startling us both. “For heaven’s sake, Christian. If it means so much to you, I’ll change my name!”

His mouth pops open as he inhales sharply. And then he grins, a radiant, all-teeth-showing, joyous grin. Wow…

“Good.” He claps his hands, and all of a sudden he stands.

What now?

“Mission accomplished. Now, I have work to do. If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Grey.”

Christian is quiet when I climb into the car that evening.

“Hi,” I murmur.

How the fuck do you murmur that?

Ana gives Christian the somewhat silent treatment all the way back to Escala, where they have an argument I swear to Christ we’ve read before:

“What exactly are you mad about? I need an indication,” he asks cautiously.

I turn and gape at him.

It’s so much funnier if you assume she does this with her vagina.

“Do you really have no idea? Surely, for someone so bright, you must have an inkling? I can’t believe you’re that obtuse.”

I can’t believe we haven’t read this exact line of dialogue before, because I’m having wicked bad deja vu here.

They go into the apartment, where they continue to fight. I’m not going to recap the whole argument because we’ve seen it a thousand times before, and also, you and I both know this is never going to get resolved. She’s just going to accept what he wants and go blindly on with her life. But there is some awesome foreshadowing:

“Don’t be mad. You’re so precious to me. Like a priceless asset, like a child,” he whispers, a somber reverent expression on his face. His words distract me. Like a child. Precious like a child… a child would be precious to him!

Look, if anyone was shocked when they got to her finding out she’s pregnant, then… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. But in the condescending way the eleventh Doctor would be sorry, not the genuine way Ten would have.

Christian reminds Ana that the architect is going to be coming over, so Ana does a little more internal back and forth about how infuriating Christian is and how horrible these things are that he’s doing, but how much she loves him and she’s going to put up with this bullshit forever, and then she gets all prettied up to face the perceived competition:

I’m wearing my gray pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse. Right! My inner goddess gets out her harlot-red nail polish. I undo two buttons, exposing a little cleavage. I wash my face, then carefully redo my makeup, applying more mascara than usual and putting extra gloss on my lips. Bending down, I brush my hair vigorously from root to tip. When I stand, my hair is a chestnut haze around me that tumbles to my breasts. I tuck it artfully behind my ears and go in search of my pumps, rather than my flats.

It sounds to me like she’s trying to fuck the architect, rather than stop her from fucking Christian, but whatever. Ana joins Christian in the great room, where they dance to a requiem – creeeeepy- and then Taylor announces Gia is there and the chapter is over.

We did a really good show last week, and the upload went awry. This week, we winged it, and it went just fine.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJhqKG-0D6c]
I see Marco Rubio’s drinking problem in action for the first time, and we talk about all the ways we’re strange

Next week, we’ll be talking about body image and weight issues. Tell us what you’d liked to see covered in that show in the comments.

It’s every other Saturday again, and That’s What I’m Talking About is featuring The Boss, chapter 3 as their Saturday conversation!

I think this is the very last place I’m supposed to remember to put this link! Go me! The Boss Chapter 3.

Starting over with a new blog is kind of like moving to a new town full of scary vampires. Sure, you get to bring all your stuff, but you leave other stuff behind. You’re afraid you’ll lose touch with the friends you had at your old blog. You’re afraid you might go from being May Queen (whatever the fuck that is, it must be a California thing) to just hanging out in a library with a hot, bespectacled librarian and a bunch of Medieval weaponry.

Wait, is that really a bad change?

I forgot where I was going with this, but the point is, there’s no time like the present to start my Big Damn Buffy Rewatch. I was going to make season by season posts, taking notes as I watched each episode, and highlighting some important points I wanted to discuss, but them my list got super long, so it’s just going to work better to break it down episode by episode, like my 50 Shades recaps. However, it’s not going to suck nearly as much for me. There are going to be some themes I’m looking at in each episode:

1. Sex is the real villain of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe.
2. Giles is totally in love with Buffy.
3. Joyce is a fucking terrible parent.
4. 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)
5. Xander is a textbook Nice Guy.
6. The show isn’t as feminist as people claim.
7. All the monsters look like wieners.
8. If ambivalence to possible danger were an Olympic sport, Team Sunnydale would take the gold.

And because there are other things I’ll want to discuss, I’ll maybe throw in a random 9-10. Because I like round numbers.

So, let’s start with episode 1 of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, “Welcome to The Hellmouth.”

The episode opens with some pictures of a graveyard and ominous narration about how in every generation, a slayer is born. She is the chosen one, she’ll stand alone against the vampires, blah blah, stuff Donald Sutherland covered in the movie. Then we cut to a guy and a girl breaking into Sunnydale high. The guy says he’s a former student (even though he looks younger than most of the extras cast as students in season one), and he wants to romance his gal on the roof of the gym. But she’s afraid, in an suspenseful, I-heard-a-noise-and-I’m-pretty-sure-we’re-not-main-characters kind of way. Ex-student guy teases her and makes a show of checking to see if anyone is there, and when the coast is proved clear, BAM! The girl he was wanting to bone turns into a vampire and devours him. Not only is it a pretty cool twist on the helpless female horror movie victim trope, it is also, in the very first scene of the series, setting up one of the most problematic and common themes in this show: my number 1, “sex is the real villain.” This guy was just trying to get laid, and the punishment for acting on his libidinous intent is death.

Isn’t this a little harsh? Couldn’t he just get gonorrhea instead?

Our introduction to our titular (heh heh) heroine comes as she’s having some really fucking grim dreams, featuring shots from episodes to come. This prophetic dream device will be used multiple times in the series, but it kind of peters out around the fourth season. The first time I saw this episode the scene didn’t strike me as odd, but now it seems kind of awkwardly long. Buffy’s mom wakes her with the warning that she’ll be late for her first day of school, and we see that Buffy’s room is full of packing crates, indicating that they’ve recently moved.

Cut to Sunnydale High. Buffy’s mom drops her off in front of the school with a cheerful pep talk that includes a reminder to not get kicked out. While in terms of storytelling this is just a way to clue in the audience that Buffy has been kicked out of school before (presumably because of what she did back when she was Kristy Swanson), that’s not really the bar for behavior you should be setting with your teen, Joyce (3).

“As long as you’re out of the house between eight AM and three PM, I’m happy. I need that time to set my hot rollers.”

A teenage boy on a skateboard careens down the sidewalk, carelessly mowing down bystanders, until he sees Buffy and, blinded by sexual longing, crashes into a railing. This will be my favorite thing he does in the entire series, because upon rewatch, I fucking hate him.

Eat railing, d-bag. This is a downpayment for all the ways you’re going to annoy me this season.

A wild ginger appears! She seems to be wearing a school uniform when no one else is, and she stops to talk to Gravity McGee about math, giving us our introduction to Xander and Willow, the characters who will eventually become Buffy’s best friends. Upon entering the school, they are joined by Jessie, the third member of their group, and Xander and Jessie immediately start talking about Buffy as though she is an object to jerk off to/onto. Ah, high school.

In the principal’s office, Principal Flutie rips up Buffy’s transcript and pronounces her slate clean. Until he notices the part where she burned down the gym at her old school. Buffy tries to explain, as Flutie attempts to tape her records back together, that the gym she burned down was full of vampires. But of course, she can’t say vampires, because being the slayer is a secret and no one would believe her, anyway. So she settles on the gym being full of asbestos.

Wait, so how did it burn down if it was full of asbestos? You’re bad at lying, Buffy.

After meeting with the principal, Buffy fails to yield to oncoming foot traffic and her bag is spilled by one of the forty-year-old background students. Seeing his opening, Xander rushes to her rescue. Not because she needs help, but because this is a good opportunity to approach her and flirt with her. His opening line to her is, “Can I have you?” a Freudian slip when he meant to say, “Can I help you?” This, and his previous objectification of her, establishes that throughout the series, Xander will be textbook Nice Guy (5), but we’re expected to sympathize with his plight, because he’s goofy and also Joss Whedon’s avatar. Buffy drops her wooden stake, giving Xander the first clue that there’s something not quite right about her.

In her first class of the day, Buffy (blonde, dressed in light colors) meets Cordelia (brunette, dressed in dark colors), a girl who appears friendly and welcoming when she shares her textbook. Cordelia suggests Buffy get a textbook from the library, and shows her the way. As they walk, Cordelia expresses a fondness for shoes and the importance of knowing which nail polish, actor, and Starbucks drinks are the coolest. She then mocks poor Willow’s clothing and lectures Buffy on weeding out losers. So, she’s our mean girl, a walking stereotype of teenage girldom obsessed with everything that is superficial and shallow. While this character does eventually arc and become pretty damn interesting, it’s disappointing that it was set up so obviously, with the girl-on-girl hate and the dark vs. light/good-girl vs. bad-girl vibe. I’m slotting this scene under my number 6.

Subtle!

In the library, Buffy meets Mr. Giles, the librarian, whose enthusiasm about vampires and whose habit of leaving suspicious newspaper articles laying around scares her right off.

In fairness to Giles, this is actually just one of the Sunnydale High textbooks.

Then we cut to the locker room, and one of the best jokes of the entire series: a girl mocking Buffy’s “weird” name walks past another girl, who says, “Hey, Aphrodisia.” So, the girl making fun of Buffy’s name has a “weird” name herself.

You know how a joke isn’t funny if it has to be explained? Yeah, well, fuck off, because that one is brilliant and it took me about a hundred times watching this episode to catch it.

The two obnoxious valley girls give us some exposition about Buffy’s past before they find the corpse of the guy who died before the credits. He was stuffed into a locker. This will be only one of many corpses found stuffed in places over the course of the series. It seems almost quaint now.

Screaming? What, are you new here?

Buffy approaches Willow in the courtyard, and after an awkward discussion of social rules at Sunnydale, Buffy asks Willow if she can help her with schoolwork. Willow suggests they hang out in the library, because she’s obviously got a crush on the “cool” new librarian. Or maybe she has a crush on all the old books he brought with him. It’s hard to tell with season one Willow. She fills Buffy in on the Giles situation. He’s a former curator for “a British museum,” possibly the British museum. Why is no one but Buffy questioning his sudden career change from museum curator to high school librarian? Given the fact that she knows he has a passion for vampires, and he just suddenly started working there, Buffy is suspicious.

Jessie and Xander show up to make Buffy feel uncomfortable as the object of their attraction (5) despite her clear verbal and nonverbal signals of disinterest.

Memo to Nice Guys: This is not the expression we use when we’re interested in you sexually.

Cordelia also drops by the bench to inform Buffy (around constant, unwanted, sexually-tilted remarks from Jessie) that a dead body was found in the locker room, so gym is cancelled. Hopefully the sexual harassment seminar is still on, because if ever a school needed one…

Buffy asks if there were any marks on the corpse, then takes off to play CSI: Hellmouth in the locker room. The scene neatly sets up Buffy’s super strength (she breaks a locked door to get inside), but one has to wonder why an apparent murder victim would be left unattended in a high school. Sure, the door was locked, but where are the police? The crime scene tape? Someone just threw a blanket over the body and took a lunch break, I guess, because Buffy is able to get in and get a good look at the clear vampire teeth impression in the dead dude’s neck.

I guess we can rule out suicide?

Back at the library, Buffy angrily confronts Giles to tell him that while he clearly expected vampires, she didn’t, and she doesn’t want anything to do with them. Buffy knows that this guy is obviously the new Donald Sutherland sent to watch over her. Their argument sets up some basic rules for the series: to become a vampire, you have to exchange blood with a vampire. Into every generation, a slayer is born. Buffy can’t get out of her duties, going so far as to suggest Giles take over her slaying, since she wants to retire. But Giles argues that a watcher doesn’t fight vampires with the slayer, he just “prepares her.” To which Buffy responds:

“Prepares me for what? For getting kicked out of school? For losing all of my friends? For having to spend all of my time fighting for my life and never getting to tell anyone because I might endanger them? Go ahead. Prepare me.”

And then Giles looks like this:

The exact moment Rupert Giles realizes he should have just stayed in England with the lady from the coffee commercials.

So, basically, Buffy’s new watcher has come into this whole thing expecting that his slayer is going to be totally psyched and committed to the job, and whoops, she’s all, “Go fuck yourself.”

Oh ho! But who doth lurk behind the bookshelves like some kind of creepy eavesdropper?

I’m going to give Xander this one, though. Because if I had just accidentally overheard an intense argument about vampires and secrets that endanger people, I wouldn’t be psyched to broadcast my newfound knowledge of said dangerous secrets, either.

Giles follows Buffy into the crowded school hallway, where he tells her that stuff in Sunnydale is getting worse, and something horrible is going to happen. Buffy should really get used to this kind of thing from him, because as I’m rewatching this series, I’m noticing that Giles never has good news. But this isn’t what concerns me most right now. What concerns me is this:

Hey, other Sunnydale students in the hall? Other Sunnydale teachers? Here’s a male faculty member standing way too close to a female student, using creepily intense body language and having an urgent and hushed conversation. Does, uh… does anybody want to check that out? Remember, no one in the school (except Xander, now) knows that Buffy is the slayer and Giles is her watcher. So imagine this scene from an outsider perspective. Shouldn’t this raise a few red flags? No, because this is Sunnydale, a town that is super good at ignoring the fact that it’s populated mostly by things that like to eat people. See my #8, because this town ignores regular danger as well as supernatural danger.

The whole “evil is going to rise” story doesn’t wash with Buffy, because this is her first time on a Hellmouth. She asks:

“Oh come on. This is Sunnydale. How bad an evil can there be here?”

Answer:

Oh my god, is that Mick Fleetwood? THE HORROR!

So, here we have the Hellmouth. I know it looks like an R.E.M. video set, but this is really the best it’s going to be for the entire series. Just wait until season seven, when the Uruk-Hai move in. Anyway, there’s a lot of activity with torches and stuff, and a big pool of blood with a vampire in front of it. He’s praying, saying “The sleeper will wake,” and “the world will bleed,” and he caps it off with an enthusiastic “Amen!” while Mick Fleetwood mills around in the background.

We cut to Buffy standing in front of her mirror, trying to decide between a black dress and something floral that I’m pretty sure my mom bought me to wear for Easter one year. Spoiler alert, she got it at Sears. Anyway, Buffy talks to herself while holding up the two dresses, saying:

“Hi! I’m an enormous slut. Hello. Would you like a copy of The Watchtower?”

Because those are the only options. She can either be a total slut, or an uptight religious person. So not down with the slut reference, Buff. You’re better than that. (6)

Joyce comes in and asks Buffy if she’s going out, and advises her to be careful. Then she starts in with some nervous mom blather about the parenting books she’s read, how her positive energy is flowing and she’s going to get the gallery started, and how they’re going to make living in this new town work. And then she subtly blames Buffy for the upheaval in their lives by saying:

“You’re a good girl, Buffy. You just fell in with the wrong crowd. But that is all behind us now.”

So, you know. You’re the reason I’m a divorcee living in Sunnydale, but I trust that you’re not going to screw things up again. That’s a positive message, Joyce. (3)

Buffy heads out into a strange town full of dark alleys (parenting books not cover that, Joyce?) where she meets a twelve-year-old who sounds oddly like David Boreanaz:

That awkward moment when your vampire male lead looks younger than he will in any of the flashbacks to two hundred years ago that he’ll ever have in the series.

Buffy and Angel’s meet-cute is that she takes him down while he’s following her through a shady part of town. He’s been looking for the slayer, and tells her he wants the same thing she wants, to kill all the vampires in the world. When she argues that she doesn’t want any part of being a slayer, he tells her she’s “standing at the mouth of hell” and warns that she can’t ignore what’s coming. Specifically, he mentions “The Harvest,” which is the title of episode two, so Angel has Netflix, too. I feel a kinship with him.

Angel gives Buffy a silver cross necklace (she dreamt about that at the very beginning of the episode) and tells her that he’s “a friend.” But not necessarily her friend. His characterization in this scene is weirdly reminiscent of his characterization as Angelus in season two.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, because it’s time to go to The Bronze!

Throughout the series, this shady-looking warehouse nightclub is host to all the kids in Sunnydale. I’m curious as to how this place legally exists. They clearly serve alcohol, but kids under the age of eighteen are all over the place in there. I realize this is a very real-world concern about a fictional place in a town that has vampires and demons and stuff, but getting mundane details correct is super important to suspension of disbelief and audience investment.

A long-haired band on stage reminds us all why music will never be as good as it was in the 90’s, and Buffy finds Willow, who is waiting alone at the bar in the hopes that Xander will show up. She explains that they’re not together, though it’s clear that she would like to be, as she counts their brief boyfriend/girlfriend relationship in kindergarten as dating. Buffy encourages Willow to be less shy around guys, and Willow thinks this is some great advice.

Willow trusts Buffy’s relationship advice, because Willow hasn’t seen season 6 yet.

Can I just say that if anyone on this show should have been playing a vampire, it should have been Alyson Hannigan? In fact, I’m not sure that she isn’t a vampire in real life. She has looked exactly the same since My Stepmother Is An Alien.

Buffy notices Giles wandering aimlessly up on the catwalk-style second floor and excuses herself from her conversation with Willow. Which is really probably the best thing that could happen to Willow, because, as we will see, Buffy really has no idea what she’s doing when it comes to dating, either. But Willow doesn’t know this, so she repeats Buffy’s advice to “seize the moment.”

Upstairs, Buffy and Giles have a slayer/watcher tiff, the first of many, in which Buffy feels Giles is cramping her style by being too uptight about this whole vampire slaying deal, and Giles finds everything about people under the age of thirty confusing and obnoxious. Buffy tells him about the tall, dark and annoying guy she met, who warned her about the Harvest. She also says she “really didn’t like him,” which pretty much cements him as the romantic lead, in case you were wondering.

The thing that pisses me off the most about this scene is that Buffy is portrayed as shallowly fixating on the messenger, rather than the message. She doesn’t care about any ominous supernatural goings on, she’s most concerned with the guy who told her about them. And this episode is absolutely filled with men telling Buffy ominous things she reacts to flippantly. I understand that it’s part of her denying her destiny, but since she ultimately accepts her role as slayer, albeit reluctantly, it’s almost like the message here is, “Do as you’re told, little girl. The menfolk know best.”

Oh, hi there, inappropriate teacher/student proximity, it’s been a few scenes since we saw you last:

Hey you two, leave some room for the Holy Spirit.

Giles mentions Buffy’s prophetic nightmares – which she hasn’t told him about – and we cut to Cordelia, bitching about how her mom’s Epstein-Barr diagnosis isn’t cool enough. I love this moment with Cordelia, because it sets up immediately what she’s all about. Say what you must about Cordelia Chase, but she is one open book, friends.

Jessie shows up, and Cordelia refers to him as her “stalker.” Since Jessie is supposed to be a sympathetic character, when he gets way too close to Cordelia and asks her to dance, we’re supposed to be on his side and think, “What a total bitch this girl is, she won’t even dance with him.” But he’s already come on to her once already that day and been rebuffed. Chances are, he’s been relentless in his pursuit of her, based on her “stalker” comment. So, I’m really not digging on Jessie here.

“Uh, hey, I was wondering, uh, would you, uh, like some unwanted advances for the second time today?”

Giles gives Buffy a speech about how a slayer should be tuned into the presence of vampires, no matter what is going on, and Buffy immediately points one out. The guy’s clothing is out of fashion, she reasons, so he’s stuck in a vampire time warp situation. Giles isn’t keen on this method of vamp detection, but I like it a lot better than the menstrual cramp alert Buffy had in the movie.

Unfortunately, Willow picks the vampire as the guy to try out the whole “seize the moment” thing on, and Buffy hurries to her rescue when she sees Willow leaving the club with him. In a darkened backstage area, Buffy almost accidentally stakes Cordelia.

There’s really no coming back from this.

Not actually murdering Cordelia is going to be a mistake Buffy regrets for the rest of high school, because this is the moment that cements her as a total social outcast. As Cordelia begins immediately spreading the rumor about her near impalement, Giles congratulates Buffy on making such quick work of the vampire. Except, Buffy hasn’t found the vampire yet, and Willow is still in danger. Though Giles insists he should tag along, Buffy tells him she can handle one vampire on her own. Meanwhile, Jessie, fresh off his rejection by Cordelia, is talking with an adorable blonde, and… wait… isn’t that the adorable blonde who turned out to be a vampire before the opening credits? Yup, it’s Darla, and she’s easily charming Jessie.

Every season of Buffy has one big villain. In season one, it’s this guy, who makes his entrance via badly scaled green screen:

“Hey, does this pool of blood make me look oddly tiny?”

This is The Master, easily the scariest looking, if not the scariest overall, Buffy “Big Bad.” He’s been raised from the dead by his vampire followers, who will stage “The Harvest” to give him strength and help free him from his Hellmouth prison. His vampire minion tells him that they’ve sent out for food. Since they’re vampires, it’s a safe bet they’re not getting Chinese take-out. Cut to Willow and the vampire she left with, taking a shortcut through one of Sunnydale’s many scenic cemeteries.

Buffy is still outside The Bronze looking for Willow and hoping that the only friend she’s made in her new town hasn’t just been eaten, when she finds Xander. She tells him Willow left with a guy, and Xander’s response is, “Talking about Willow, right?” Because Willow is so super undesirable. Which, you know, Xander, you’re not doing so hot with the dating, yourself. He tells Buffy that he knows that she thinks she’s a slayer – but he doesn’t really believe her until she tells him that Willow is about to be totally dead.

Back at the cemetery, Willow is starting to suspect that something is up with this dude, and they’re not really going to get ice cream, when he goads her into going into a crypt with him. When she tries to run, her way is blocked by Darla, who has a badly bleeding Jessie trailing along behind her. Willow stands up to Darla, who reveals her vampire face, but Buffy gets there before she can do any real eating. Because on this show, vampires will talk about eating more than they ever actually do it. Like they’re all heroines in a chicklit novel or something.

Buffy puts the beat down on the vampires. She stakes the male one, who bursts into a cloud of ash, which will become the series staple with a few notable exceptions. Then she takes on Darla, who can’t fathom how a human is handing her gift-wrapped ass to her. But then this guy shows up:

Buffy The Vampire Slayer recycles minor character actors like Doctor Who does. This guy shows up a couple times in season 2, and every time, I’m like, “Hey! It’s This Guy!” Anyway, This Guy is pretty rad. He’s the vampire who was praying to raise The Master, and he is not having any of the slayer’s shenanigans. He tells Darla to get lost, and starts beating the fuck out of Buffy. He’s pretty proud of himself, for a big dude beating up a little girl. Willow and Xander try to carry Jessie out of the cemetery, but they’re surrounded by vampires. Back at the library, Giles has finally figured out what The Harvest is, while This Guy neatly narrates it for us as he continues to wail on Buffy. Basically, if The Harvest happens, it will be very bad for people, and very good for vampires. So, conflict! And things look very bad for Buffy, who is now in a sepulcher with a vampire on top of her when the “To Be Continued” card pops up on the screen.

As far as story telling goes, this show didn’t really misstep here. It starts with believable personal conflict, introduces the characters competently (even if the introduction of Cordelia was trite and anti-feminist), and gives the heroine a call to action, before ending on a hook that makes the audience excited for the next installment. If you’re looking for a masterclass in first chapter construction, this is really a good example.

Sunday night wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back, but it’s one of the straws that will eventually crush the poor bastard if I decide to keep watching. Season 3 has been a fucking train wreck, and I was hoping that after the midseason break, things would get better. But we’re getting to the point where I can no longer suspend disbelief and continue enjoying the show when it’s obvious that literally none of these characters would be surviving the zombie apocalypse if there weren’t writers playing deus ex machina for them. Before I start outlining why I now hate the show, let me say that I don’t care what happened in the comics, because the writers of the show are clearly not concerned with that, either. And don’t begin an argument against one of these points with, “They explained it on Talking Dead,” because that doesn’t hold water with me. I shouldn’t have to watch a second show to get the plot holes of the first show explained away for me. I’m taking the show itself on its own merits, and I’m finding it lacking for the following reasons (again. There will be spoilers):

This morning, I was having my coffee, doing my normal Facebook creeping when I found a local news story about the school that my son and daughter attend. Normally, I would never disclose this information about my kids to the internet at large, but this is a special circumstance.

I do not want my children in a school where anyone is carrying a gun. Not because I’m a raving anti-gun liberal. I think I’ve made it very clear in the past that I am a fan of guns and shooting things that aren’t people. I think guns are rad as hell. But I also have a working brain and I realize that while a gun is a tool, the same as a hammer or a chainsaw, it is not the only tool for a job, or the right tool for every job.

The school board, other parents, and local police feel differently. And that’s fine. I think it would have been awesome if parents had been notified by someone other than the local news station about this impending change, but whatever. Here’s why putting guns in the school is going to make it a dangerous place, and why I’m going to be making some tough choices about the future of schooling of my children:

1. More guns won’t solve our mass shooting problem. Columbine had armed security. Didn’t help. In the Aurora shooting, the suspect was wearing body armor. A trained sniper would have had trouble taking him out, and it wouldn’t have been a shot that was possible with a handgun. Allowing teachers and other volunteer civilians to carry firearms in school will just mean more bullets flying around, killing children.

2. People in positions of authority over children already abuse that power to be predators. I’m not saying that all of the volunteers in this program are molesters. I’m not suggesting that even one of them are inclined to molest a kid. However, we’re talking about a program in which the people carrying the firearms are anonymous. How long before, “Don’t tell mom and dad, because I have a gun and can shoot you,” becomes a useable threat? Even by people who aren’t in the program, because remember, we don’t know who has that gun. Answer: At exactly the same time we have people anonymously carrying guns in the school.

3. Kids shouldn’t be afraid of getting shot at school. Not by a teacher, not by another student, not by a volunteer or an armed gunman. It shouldn’t be a possibility. Psychologically, what does it do to these kids to know there are armed people wandering around the school? “But Jenny, you can just tell your kids that the people with guns are there to protect them.” Awesome, now do they not only have to fear a school shooting in the first place, but I’ve just indoctrinated my kids into the gun culture behind the mass shootings in the first place. You know, the culture that tells us guns are always the solution? On top of that, I’m teaching my kids that stranger + gun = safety. Great plan, school system, bang up job.

4. An intelligent person would not trust someone they don’t know to have a gun around their child in their absence. That seems like it should be Parenting 101, guys. There are people in this town I wouldn’t trust around my kids, and sure as hell not with a gun. And since I don’t know who’s got a gun, I don’t know if I can say it’s okay for my kids to be around them.

5. If there are more guns in the school, there are more guns for a shooter to use. What happens when a school shooter exchanges fire with an armed civilian, then kills the civilian? All the video games and movies the shooter has ever seen have already trained him or her to pick up that gun and ammo and continue on the rampage with more fire power. Furthermore, when the kids figure out who these armed volunteers are (and they will find out. Some kid is going to tell their friends, “my dad brings a gun to school, so he can shoot you,” and the cover is blown. Kids don’t keep secrets), all it takes is for one kid to disarm that teacher or volunteer. Now, that kid is armed, whereas he might not have been before.

6. These volunteers are human, and they will make mistakes. No matter how much training someone has, they can always panic, or snap, or be irresponsible. The worst case scenario is that one of these armed volunteers will go on a spree themselves. The more likely scenario is that someone will leave their gun in a bathroom or something because people are prone to dumb mistakes, no matter how certain we are that we could never, ever do something like that.

Look, I’m sure the people who signed up for this program are really nice people. No, actually, I’m not sure, because I don’t know who the hell they are. So, you know, see #4. But let’s assume they all went into this program with the good intention of wanting to protect kids. I’m absolutely sure Chief Pierce is training the volunteers well and I have every confidence that he’s also coming at this program from a good place, but I am not willing to send my kids to school where there are people I do not know wandering around with guns.

I realize this post is scattered at best and nonsensical at worst. But I firmly believe that the best way my kids can avoid being shot at school is for there to be no guns in their school, no matter who is carrying.