I do not read esoteric art novels. Abstract sculpture leaves me unmoved. And I prefer cinema with explosions to that which explores the human psyche.
I still haven't seen Life of Pi.
But even I--even I--have a limit to what I will slog through in the form of mindless entertainment, and friends...
I have met my limit.
Was it--you might ask--the continued brat like behavior of Kara Danvers being unable to forgive the death of her homicidal aunt? No it was not. Although damn, Kara, the woman was playing with fire and she got burned. To death. And you're going to blame the fire? You're going to say "Gee, Hank, I know I've worked with you for a while now, and Alex is my sister, and that Astra was legit trying to kill you both and you stopped it the only way you could, but instead of understanding that sometimes people have to make shitty choices I'm just going to rage about how "I was bringing her back to the light!"*"
*side note. You need to read that in the whiniest voice you can manage. Thank you.
So it wasn't that. Nor was it the stupid fucking blue cat-suit they decided on for Braniac 8. The rant I could write about that is probably PAGES long. But I am going to restrain myself, because it doesn't matter that it's the stupidest fucking costuming idea ever, since that wasn't the thing that pushed me over the edge.
It wasn't that Cat Grant, one of the only worthwhile characters on the whole damn show, is continuing to punish Kara for not liking her son. Although, honestly, if I can think of a thing that is LESS empowering for a woman to do than to punish another woman for not loving a man I WILL LET YOU KNOW, because I have yet to figure out anything less feminist IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD.
It wasn't even that the new assistant who I STILL HATE is now MAKING OUT WITH WINN IN THE ELEVATOR.
No. It wasn't any of those things.
It was the mother-fucking donuts.
Yup. These donuts.
For those of you staring blankly at your screen, allow me to elucidate.
Every time this show portrays Supergirl chowing down on junk food, all while remaining waifish and delicate, it pisses me off. If she was buff I suppose I might let it slide--all those calories are feeding her muscles, right? But no. She looks like a strong wind could break her in half. And yet, every episode, we see her with ice cream. Pizza. Chips. Milkshakes. Chinese food. She and her loving sister even joke about it.
"You're gonna get fat." Says Alex.
"Not on this planet." Says she.
And it makes me mad, cause it's like the supermodels who have a personal trainer and a private chef and three round-the-clock nannies and then a magazine runs an article about how they "dropped the baby weight in just ten weeks!" It feels like a lie the magazines tell us, even thought it's technically true. And if THAT is a lie--when certainly, technically, it IS physically possible--how much more of a lie is it to show us an alien that CAN'T get high cholesterol or unsightly bulges chowing down on pizza and pie?
Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of showing women who eat like normal people. But to show us someone who eats normally, only with the caveat that it's her alien DNA that keeps her thin--that just feels like a punch in the face. It's like a metaphor for this whole damn show. It pretends to be feminist, all the while actually being TERRIBLE for women. They gave us a female hero, but they made her emotionally weak. Instead of letting her run with the big dogs they gave her appropriately "delicate" issues to work through every episode. It's the pretense of giving us a female icon, while at the same time subverting her power every chance you get. They pretend she's a role model, when really she's just reinforcing the stereotype.
After all. She gets to eat like that because she CAN'T get fat. Not because she works hard or (god forbid) because a little extra junk in her trunk is a fine thing. No, no. It's because she's Supergirl. Faster than a speeding bullet, able to eat an entire pizza in a single gulp.
You mortals better stick to salad.
And so the donuts--the MOTHER-FUCKING DONUTS--are the final straw. Because Alex shows up with donuts for her sister, and while that is a kind and generous gesture--
--although, for future reference, anyone showing up at my door will get much better treatment if they come with coffee and an omelet--
--I immediately started snarling at the screen. And when Supergirl opened that pink box I felt my last iota of patience stretch as she reached in an took out a donut.
Then she reached in and grabbed a second one, and my already worn patience broke clean through.
I cannot take this nonsense anymore.
So that is how this particular branch of the Why Aren't They Kissing tree ends. Not with a series ending or even with a well thought out and reasoned farewell. No, it ends with donuts. Because I am fucking tired of their pseudo feminist bullshit that never rings true. And the donuts were the last fucking straw.
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