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And you know what else? This is not only the second best episode ever, it also takes the show as a whole to a completely new level … You know who A is! It has been confirmed! A is the male gaze powered by surveillance culture and enabled by a victim-blaming society saturated in sexism and obsessed with denying women their agency. Who has been systematically torturing the Liars all this time? The patriarchy, just as we suspected! Who thinks women are interchangeable play things created to act out male fantasies? The patriarchy.

[…]

This episode a goddamn study in scathing social critique:  Stanley Kubrick and Alfred Hitchcock want to kiss Marlene King on the mouth for this one.  You wanted it to be someone who has been here from the beginning, right? Well, we got someone who’s been here for six thousand years! I’d be happy as a peach if this is all we ever knew about A. I don’t care who. I care about exposing the grossness of how.

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Me and my friends submitted this for the Mad Men Fan Cut of the pilot episode- you can see it here next to the original scene. Brittani Nichols is Daddy Draper and Robin Roemer, Carly Usdin and Claire “Bunny Hop” Savage filmed it, sounded it, lighted it, and made everything look really awesome. Anyone interested in a gender/race bent Mad Men? We gonna call it Mad People!

In the last half of 2011, I lived inside my depression. I alternated between sadness and numbness, between hyper-productivity and three-day crying jags where all I did was eat buttered toast and listen to Elliott Smith. In 2012, poetry taught me to feel other things again. I fed off Sylvia Plath’s tragedy, took whimsical journeys with e.e. cummings, grounded myself in stories with W.S. Merwin, got high on Anis Mojgani’s hope, riled myself up with Audre Lorde. I related deeply to Eileen Myles and Adrienne Rich and wasn’t quite prepared to process why.

Poetry didn’t convince me everything was going to be ok — too many great poets died by suicide or died alone and angry for me to believe poetry could be a cure-all — but they showed me that I was not alone in my not-okayness. They showed me there was more to life than being fucked up, and they reminded me I deserved better.

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A fun fact is that no one is keeping score; there is no point value designated for anything you do! Generally speaking, in most respects. Certainly there are things which are owed to others, or are morally correct: if we hit something with our car, we should stop and take care of it; if we have a deadline at work, we should probably meet it. But for things which are occurring only within your private sphere, think about how often you make decisions based upon the vague feeling that they are being judged by some sort of other. Which to watch, a documentary or Bad Girls Club? Which to eat, the nachos or the farro salad? To go to the lecture on permaculture microfarming or to take a nap? Would your decisionmaking on any of these things change if you didn’t feel like you had to justify it, or that you had to do the “correct” thing (which is different than the right thing)? Something to think about! (This thought exercise perhaps not applicable if you do believe for religious, spiritual or philosophical reasons that there is someone keeping score, in which case sorry.)
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Alex finds Maggie, April, and Jo in a room talking about the crash. April and Alex do a quick check in on Meredith and Arizona while Maggie and Jo look on, slightly confused. April, in a commanding use of the understatement, says ‘They had a bad experience on a plane a while back.' Maggie feels that shit. Oh man, does she feel that shit. One time, she had to sit on a runway for FOUR HOURS and they weren’t serving drinks and it smelled like boiled feet and then! Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, they made them GET OFF THE PLANE. WITHOUT AN APOLOGY.
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Maybe the world would be a better place if fewer women weren’t compelled to have children while their resources are stretched unreasonably thin. Maybe fewer sweet, chubby-cheeked toddlers would grow up to be surly, resentful adults because they always had the lingering sense their presence wasn’t wanted. Many of the writers in Shallow, Selfish, and Self-Absorbed discuss their own traumatic childhoods, and how they were made to feel responsible for their parents’ failed careers, or failed relationships, or unhappy lives. But there should be no shame attached to the decision not to participate any further in the great human experiment, whether or not it comes from the fact that that experiment has failed a person in the past.
Why aren’t women having children? Find out that and more in today’s AAA!
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We should be thrilled to see them stepping up, because it means we get to ask for more from them. I hope, as they continue to solidify their success, we see more from them speaking out on LGBT issues less familiar to mainstream audiences than marriage. I hope we see them elevate other queer musicians and artists. I hope we, as fans, hold them accountable to using their platform that they’ve worked to build for the benefit of our communities. I hope we hear more incredible music to cry to. I hope we hear more incredible music to dance to.
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