In second grade, I was once mistaken for a kindergartener because I was ”just so short and delicate.” As a girl who cut the lace off her socks, who ran just as fast as the boys, and who spent most of her free time climbing trees, that comment really bothered me. A few years later, I was equally furious when my male swim coach told my friends that I was too weak to roll up the heavy pool cover by myself and that they should always help me. (For the record, I cranked that pool cover in every morning by myself after that for almost 10 years.)

As a result of moments like these, I knew early on that I wanted to be three things when I grew older: a teacher, a writer, and a feminist. Of course, I didn’t actually know the term ”feminist” when I was little, but I knew what it meant — a strong, confident, and capable woman who doesn’t let anyone stop her when she has a goal.

While I’ve been fortunate enough to have a lot of female role models in my life, some of the best were ones I saw on TV. From Russian Planeteers to Army Nurses to bad-ass detectives, here are just a few women that helped turn me into the feminist I am today:

Linka of Captain Planet and the Planeteers

Linka was my first feminist role model. Not only did she have an awesome accent, having grown up in the former Soviet Union, Linka had the power to corral the wind, thanks to her planeteer ring. I spent a lot of happy hours as a kid pretending to be Linka when my friends and I would play Planeteers. But the best part of being Linka was the fact that she often told off the brash, fire-wielding Brooklyn-born Planeteer, Wheeler, in hilarious ways.

Major Margaret “Hot Lips” Houlihan from M*A*S*H

A lot happened to this head army nurse over the span of the Korean War. As a dedicated fan of the show, it was inspiring to see Margaret grow in confidence after dumping “ferret face” Major Frank Burns, divorcing her wavering Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscot, and becoming her own woman who doesn’t have to rely on favors from “old family friends” to help her career advance. She was a no-nonsense, hard worker, but, underneath the tough exterior, I could see that we were very similar — women who just wanted to be respected and loved for who we are.

Lois Lane of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman

Sure, Lois Lane gets to marry the hottest man in the world, Superman, but as an investigative reporter, Lois Lane literally wore the pants-suits in all her relationships. She was the one willing to break into warehouses late at night, constantly defying her partner Clark’s orders to stay back, and always checking to make sure her story was printed with her byline, front and center. And while she sometimes needed rescuing from Superman, she wasn’t afraid to show off her own self-defense moves. With a sharp tongue and fiery temper to match, Lois Lane was this girl’s model of how to be fearless in any situation.

C.J. Cregg of The West Wing

C.J. Cregg shows girls what it’s like to succeed. She was a National Merit Scholar, attended Williams College, and then — as she frequently liked to announce — went on to earn a master’s degree in political science from UC Berkeley. As the White House Press Secretary and later, as the first female Chief of Staff, C.J. Cregg was always one of the smartest people in every room. While she excels in her job, C.J. shows that it’s okay at the end of the day to still be herself. She’s a lip-syncing, sardonic woman with a steely spine who learned to never let her personal feelings get in the way of getting down to business in the Press Room.

Dorothy Zbornak of The Golden Girls

While Dorothy is often the butt of her mother Sophia Petrillo’s jokes for being a divorced, unattractive substitute teacher, it’s clear that she’s actually the glue holding the Golden Girls together. With her sharp wit, over-the-top ’80s style, and insights into her roommates’ hearts and minds, Dorothy is exactly the sort of compassionate but no-holds-barred, utterly comfortable in her own skin, daring woman I wish more of us had the courage to be.

Veronica Mars of Veronica Mars

My college roommates first introduced me to Veronica Mars, the brilliant, stun gun-wielding noir-esque detective, who proves, through the show’s dark story arcs, that high school is truly hellish. While she has more than a fair share of relationship troubles, Veronica is fearless in her ability to dish up clever one-liners to both heroes and villains alike – the ultimate bad-ass, in my book.

Violet Crawley of Downton Abbey

There’s little that hasn’t been said before about how witty, crafty, and outspoken the Dowager Countess is on this period drama. And while Violet Crawley may be more reluctant to change and adapt to the times, it’s clear that this shrewd woman knows how to look for her advantage in any situation. If Violet Crawley had been born in another era — one filled with actual weekends and jobs for most women — there’s no telling what this mighty figure could have accomplished. If I grow up to be half the woman Violet Crawley is, I’ll be very happy indeed.

Leslie Knope of Parks and Recreation

I think most people would be hard-pressed to find something not to love about this future first female President of the United States. With her can-do attitude and indefatigable work ethic, Leslie Knope represents what a woman can accomplish if she’s passionate about her career. But, more importantly, Leslie’s not portrayed as a brash political workaholic; instead, she’s a hilarious, loving, and dedicated friend who simply wants to make the world a better place by helping people, one at a time. And, even more importantly, because Leslie fully admits her flaws, it’s no wonder that she became a strong female role model for the women of Pawnee…and a hero to all the people watching.

Certain things make me believe we’re already living in more of a dystopia than any fiction could ever dream up for us. The Bachelor is one of those things. Oh, how I thought I was done writing about this pop culture side note. Yet, it appears that it’s not done with me. I thought I’d escaped its shiny clutches when I stopped watching Andi’s season halfway through, and didn’t even watch the finale of Chris’s season. I was so proud of myself! Yet, news travels fast, and I’m spellbound again by this latest twist: Britt and Kaitlyn have both received the dubious honor of being the next bachelorette (not entirely unprecedented, as there were two simultaneous bachelors circa 2006).

I’m always surprised when people critique The Bachelor. It’s too easy, isn’t it? What we ought to marvel at is how any of it exists at all; it’s so irrelevant, uncool, unsuccessful in its mission, predictable, repetitive, sexist, and so forth. Yet, year after year, it airs. The Bachelor is immortal. Nothing will kill it. People watch it ironically, perhaps, but they watch it nonetheless. They have watching parties. They tweet about it and write of it in serious news outlets.

Why? I have theories. In part, surely there is some cognitive dissonance among us as we marvel at how this show happened at all, let alone continues to happen for 29 seasons. But I also think it gives us a chance to broadly and wildly psychoanalyze (ourselves, others, our entire culture). To admit or hide, compare or contrast our own romantic proclivities, personalities, and desires. We’re not like those girls. We’re not that guy. We don’t want to quit our jobs, live on a farm, and have babies. Unless we secretly do. Or unless we totally don’t and somehow feel a lot more clever and wise than those who want the opposite of what we want. It’s during our viewings of The Bachelor that our contradictions battle within us. It’s far more gory than a guilty pleasure. It’s satire, nightmare, and fairy tale.

The internet is riled up about this latest news of dueling bachelorettes. It’s misogyny! As if the show isn’t already horrifically rife with that. When I first saw the red and gold promotional image, the two pretty girls going head to head, I thought of gladiator battles, of 1984, and of The Hunger Games. I thought about it as real, for a moment, not as a reality show. What if these women fought to the actual death?

In Diane Ackerman’s A Natural History of the Senses, she writes about an ancient ritual where a young couple was crushed under a ceremoniously constructed house and then eaten in order to celebrate the cycles of life. What if the new Bachelorette season played out like that, a true life and death ritual acknowledging (celebrating?) the state of our current times? Only one of these women, after all, is worthy of being that most coveted of things: a wife!

These shows are most compelling when the rules break down. When one of the men dies in real life because he existed there most of all. When one of the front runners disqualifies himself because the whole thing is too weird. Even Britt, despite her extraneous make-up, had moments of being real real, not reality show real. Even much-loathed Juan Pablo, who refused to fall in love, was nearly interesting. Those break-downs, the admissions of humanity or truth (often accidental, often just a glimmer), are where the fascination lies. That those moments cannot be squelched entirely in the death grip of this franchise is somehow thrilling. I watch in the hopes that one day the world won’t need this show, and nor will I, that it will chip away bit by bit, making space for something else.

The bottom line is, Who cares? And the answer is that most people don’t. But all this ridiculousness has me hypnotized. In a world saturated with tasteless media, celebrity distractions, and a zillion television shows, The Bachelor and Bachelorette still stand apart. Both old fashioned and gratuitous simultaneously, they strike a note that no other reality show does (even its own spin-off, Bachelor in Paradise, can’t quite find the same anachronistic surreal tone). On The Bachelor, the Playboy pin-up really wants to be a wife too (or instead?)! Both retro and trashy, the show champions a 1950s sense of domestic life, where women quit their jobs to have babies, and yet, after the bride is chosen, the outcome is usually far more contemporary.  For example, Chris and Whitney are currently in LA for his Dancing with the Stars stint. They aren’t on the farm quite yet.

Being infuriated and confounded by all of this is what the show does to us because we ask it to. We engage. The diabolical cleverness is that our outrage is why we love it. Energy is energy and we devote ours to these courtships, over and over again. The Bachelor is simply a mirror held to each of our downfalls. The logic of the show is our own worst logic as well.

In the end, one person is chosen, and it’s their destiny to exist in this place, a world disconcertingly similar to ours in many ways. The social structures often seem ridiculous, and yet we can’t shake their familiarity. There is often an upsetting conclusion to these dystopian stories. Partly because we can’t help but believe them to reflect some larger truth of our lives. Partly because they often also reveal the death of some essential part of our own humanity.

Till next time, when we will all gather round the collapsing house to watch as two girls fight to the death.

Have you been overwhelmed by the time it takes to track down all the gif-able moments from each week’s Broad City to use in your texts? Are you scared of that span of time after this coming Wednesday when there are no more Broad City episodes for a while? Well, Comedy Central has the solution to both of those problems. Behold: the Broad City Keyboard! It’s all here: from Abbi’s alter ego, Val, to Ilana’s white power suit. Let us count the ways in which you’ll be able to make use of this novel invention:

When your friend asks you to help them move:

When you need someone to help you pick which selfie to Instagram:

When you need to let everyone know that it’s pay day:

When you finally let that acquaintance who always flakes on you have it:

When you’re almost ready:

When you’re on your way:

When your friend is like “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping“:

When you need to let someone know you don’t give a…:

When your crush texts and you’re trying to keep it cool:

When your friend asks you to go to karaoke:

When complaining about how you have nothing to eat at home and hate grocery shopping:

When your friend says they’ll bring you food:

When someone doesn’t text you back:

When you find out there’s a Broad City keyboard app:

Okay, you get the idea. Now get to texting! All your friends are going to wait by the phone for your messages now…or ignore you cause you inspired them to rewatch the show from the beginning. Either way, the world is a better place with this keyboard in it. Download the app now!

Have you had a taste of Cookie yet? If the answer is yes, then you know the gleeful delight that is Empire. If not, you’re missing out on one of the most entertaining and groundbreaking hours of television.

For those that haven’t been watching, think of it as a hip-hop spin on Shakespeare’s King Lear and Winter’s Tale with a modern ethos. After being diagnosed with ALS, slick music mogul Lucious Lyon (Terrence Howard) must decide which of his three sons will take over his record company, Empire. Things become more complicated when his ex-wife, the delicious Cookie (Taraji P. Henson), is released from prison after 17 years for selling drugs that paid for the company’s start and is determined to “get what’s hers.” Plus, there’s a murder cover-up, a surprise baby, mental breakdowns, incessant backstabbing and surprise guest stars, not to mention the Timbaland-produced beats infused into every episode.

The hit Fox drama (or comedy or music video, depending on your view) is one of the fastest growing shows on network television, thanks to word of mouth from ardent fans and a little help from “Black Twitter” that helps turn hashtags like #YasssJamal into trending topics on social media. Although there is rightful criticism of the show, Empire has shown that, when given the chance, a minority-led cast can make it in the big leagues. Tonight, Empire wraps up its first season and the episode is sure to include shock upon shock. But is that a good thing?

Cliffhangers used to be left for season finales or the occasional mid-season break. Now, major plot changes occur before the end of the first commercial break. And it works. According to NPR, Empire’s success is a result of giving the people what they want and daring to buck industry traditions. For instance, TV execs have long catered to a young, white male audience, despite statistics showing that black people—particularly women—watch more television than any other group. Empire has proven (again) that white people aren’t scared off by female or minority-led casts as long as the show offers an engaging storyline.

Many of the beneficiaries of twist-and-turn storytelling (think Scandal and How To Get Away With Murder) follow in the footsteps of the dearly departed soap opera. It’s common to hear programs like Empire called soapy or compared to old favorites like Dynasty. Before their demise, soap operas pioneered the dramatic hooks that left viewers (mostly female) clamoring for the next day’s episode. The high stakes drama and over-the-top characters with tangled narratives helped soaps stay on air for 20+ years and gave them the ability to pull 30 million viewers for a single episode at their peak (a number only seen during annual event television like the Oscars these days). But that success did not last.

Empire runs the risk of falling into the same problems that its soapy predecessors succumbed to. While the OMG moments that have made Empire so popular get people talking, it can be exhausting. With the need for game changing story lines every 15 minutes, there’s nothing holding writers back from unleashing their most fantastical ideas. This is how shows like General Hospital and Days of Our Lives managed to attract viewers and ultimately lost them when the stories became too repetitive or outlandish to believe (which is saying a lot for a soap).

Trends by nature are temporal. Maybe Empire will evolve away from all the shock value in time. Or maybe it’ll follow in the footsteps of the soap operas. The only sure thing is that, for now, Empire is doing what it must to entertain us. And we’re eating it up.

On September 11, 2001, a hole was torn in the fiction of eternal American promise, in the belief that, as a society, we’ve committed no sins. We’ve had 14 years to think about the reasons why it happened, to think about what happened after, and to ask ourselves hard questions without neat answers. The most challenging and best realized television shows of that first decade after 9/11 struggled to talk about what we couldn’t yet grasp. The  story told by three of those series—Battlestar Galactica, Deadwood, and The Wire—can be seen as a triptych response to a catastrophic event like 9/11.

The reboot of Battlestar Galactica first aired as a miniseries on SyFy (at the time just called plain ol’ Sci-Fi) in 2003, and it debuted as a regular series in October 2004.

(Standard operating procedure: spoilers exist herein for beloved shows that are 10+ years old, and they will be referenced casually. If you haven’t watched Battlestar Galactica, Deadwood or The Wire, and you want to remain as pure as a South Dakota snowfall, look away now. Al Swearengen raises his glass to you. Everything after that is spoiler-laden.)

BSG is mostly set on a spaceship, which is what kept my dad from watching it right away. It opens with an attack on human colonial settlements, though it takes some time to parse what they’re colonies of. Evil robots—built by the colonists, treated like slaves—have risen up and massacred their former masters. Cities are bombed, battlestars are destroyed, and the human survivors are faced with a life of perpetual war against an enemy that hates everything they are and everything they have done.

Last year, BSG’s executive producer Ronald D. Moore spoke at the Hero Complex Film Festival in Los Angeles about watching the original series pilot in the months after 9/11 and re-imagining it for a 21^st century audience:

“I just realized, immediately, that if you did that show in that moment in time, the audience could not help but bring their experience with them. And if you did a show, you had an opportunity and a responsibility to talk about what we were going through as a culture and what was going on in the world… and to ask hard questions and not really deliver neat answers every week.

I always thought there was a kind of egotism to the idea that a show of television could [say] ‘Well, here’s how Al-Qaeda could be dealt with, and here’s the answer to Iraq, and here’s the answer to terrorism.’ It was important to me that the show just asked you questions and challenged your assumptions, and if you came out of the end of that experience with your beliefs confirmed, fine. And if you came out the other side with your beliefs challenged, that was great too. I just wanted you to think for 45 minutes.”

9/11 was so awful, so unexpected, yet understandable in retrospect. The only equitable response was to raise the questions of why it happened, how it happened, and what we do now. Battlestar Galactica, from 2003 until 2009, explored the immediate aftermath of trauma, grief, and who we choose to be and who we turn to when we fall down. It looks like it’s about robots, war, and revenge, but ultimately it’s about the cost of inhumanity, war, and revenge. It posits, over and over again, that there’s no finish line to war. The mission is never accomplished.

You fight and you run, and then you keep fighting, you keep running.

The only way out is to forgive.

There’s another full season after this moment with Gaius Baltar, the series’ traitor to end all traitors, but BSG essentially ends with forgiveness. But the ending everyone is cranky about is the one where the colonists, the robots, and the folks who are somewhere in between, settle on Earth. They scatter, throw away their old tools and rules, and get to work building a new community.

Deadwood aired on HBO from 2004 to 2006 over the course of three brief seasons. It started after BSG and finished before it, but you can see it as a spiritual sequel. Deadwood is about going further than the map allows, having brought with you everything you know you are and don’t know you are, and recreating society. The good things, the bad things, the things you tried to leave behind.

In Deadwood: Stories of the Black Hills, show creator David Milch says he originally pitched a series about cops in Ancient Rome working under the mad emperor Nero, “intstrument(s) of order, in a world that could invoke no ordering principle besides, ‘Do what an insane person tells you to.’” HBO turned that pitch down because they’d already greenlit another series set in that period. But Milch, best known for his work on Hill Street Blues and NYPD Blue, wasn’t ready to return to the modern day.

“The human heart yearns to be lifted up,” he wrote. “What lifts us up with less excess weight and baggage better than anything else is a story about our brothers and sisters. But it’s disingenuous not to recognize that certain moments in history make it hard to acknowledge all our familial connections. It was for something like that reason, in the aftermath of the events of September 11, I didn’t want to do a story with a contemporary setting.”

Like BSG, Deadwood looks like a genre show—a Western—but it functions as a parable for rebuilding after a great trauma. Deadwood’s inhabitants are survivors of a catastrophe. In this case, the catastrophe is the first century of America and the Civil War, but there are also catastrophes of the heart. The gunslinger Wild Bill Hickok has been driven from civilization for gambling debts, vagrancy, and a propensity for violence. Seth Bullock has walked away from his responsibilities as a lawman to make money, but quickly finds himself enforcing the law in a town with no laws. Alma Garret married into money, lost her husband, gained his money, and stayed to build up a new land instead of returning to the old one.

They have all fled their old lives, often their old families, and vowed to start anew. But they quickly find the best versions of themselves by establishing new familial connections. They are often family fighting against one another, but they always come back together. They forgive trespasses, they commit themselves to kindness and selflessness and what is best for the larger society.

Eulogizing Wild Bill in season one, Reverend Smith paraphrases St. Paul and Corinthians: “For the body is not one member, but many. He tells us, the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee. Nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of thee. Nay, much more those members of the body which seem to be more feeble, and those members of the body which we think of as less honorable, all are necessary. He says that there should be no schism in the body but that the members should have the same care, one to another. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it.”

We remain connected, even when we say we are separate. Even if we’ve left a larger world, we bring our inner worlds with us. When outsiders come to a new world, there is going to be natural tension and aggression and even violence. But like has happened before, they will eventually be subsumed into the order.

How does that body grow? When a community has come together, whether from the ashes of catastrophe or not, is it doomed to fall apart again? Does it rot from the inside out?

The Wire ran on HBO from 2002 to 2008, and again it looked like a genre show. It came wrapped up as a police procedural, but in reality it brings us closer to the catastrophe again. This is the community grown rotten, or maybe just so large that the hand no longer realizes it is the same organism as the eye.

The general assessment of The Wire is that it’s about American institutions and how they fail individuals. Over the course of its first season, The Wire reveals itself to be more than a cop show. It’s about rules. It’s about the changing landscape of law enforcement and the social contract.

But if it’s not overt for the first four seasons, by the time the fifth and final season arrived—airing in 2008, before the election of Barack Obama—it was clear this was a show that was pessimistic about organizations, those who lead them, and the compromises those leaders make. One of the major storylines of season five has Detectives McNulty and Freamon, formerly proud spires of doing what’s right, no matter the cost, inventing a serial killer and feeding information on said killer to the press in order to gain funding to continue actual police work, including the continuing case against Marlo Stanfield and his drug dealing operation.

Now, I can’t say with certainty that the rationale for the 2004 invasion of Iraq and the subsequent nearly 9-year Iraq War was based on information the leaders of the United States of America knew to be false. It’s true that no weapons of mass destruction were found, in spite of Colin Powell’s United Nations presentation.

The first episode of season five begins with the epitaph, The bigger the lie the more they believe. It’s easy to see this entire season as exploring the question of, is it ever okay to lie for the greater good? If so, who gets to decide what the greater good really is?

After watching five seasons of The Wire, it can be hard to remember that Baltimore is a real American city in the 21^st century. Detroit has never had a comparable fictional examination, but it also continues to be a real American city in decline, perhaps on the edge of catastrophe. The Nation called Camden, New Jersey, the “City of Ruins.” David Simon, the creator and executive producer of The Wire wrote in the Guardian in 2013 that there are “two Americas,” and that capitalism “has achieved its dominance without regard to a social compact, without being connected to any other metric for human progress.”

The eye has said to the hand, I have no need of thee.

In the landscape of post-9/11 television, The Wire is the story of the pre-apocalypse, the story before we go back to the beginning, where our sins—subjugated robots, a war fought for slavery, unchecked capitalism—return to haunt us.

If you had access to a television between 1991 and 1994, chances are Clarissa Explains It All shaped your ideas of what ‘cool’ was. From style (headbands, polka dot leggings, mismatched layers) to uses for your bedroom window (no need to sneak out when a babe with a ladder can sneak in!), Clarissa was the cool older sister who taught us how to live.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, watch this early promo:

Now that we’re all caught up, here’s the news! 21 years after the last episode aired, Clarissa is getting a sequel in book form called Things I Can’t Explain! Because no one cares about math, the novel will follow 28-year-old Clarissa as she navigates adult problems she can’t explain!

Entertainment Weekly sat down with series creator Mitchell Kriegman, who teased that Sam (*fans self*) will be in the book: “I’ve been interested for a long time in what Sam was thinking all those years and I think we’ll finally get a deeper sense of that.” Ferg-breath will also be part of the storyline.

We have to wait until November to read all about what Clarissa is up to these days. Until then, might as well watch the spinoff pilot for Clarissa Now, which follows Clarissa as she moves to New York City:

Or listen to this 1994 Clarissa and the Straightjackets album:

And this post wouldn’t be complete without the theme song:

Clarissa, out!

The rumors were true. Today, PBS announced that the next season of Downton Abbey will be its last. We’re accustomed to freaking out every time a show we loved at some point is cancelled, but ending Downton is the right thing to do.

This past season had its moments — Edith’s accidental act of arson, Mary’s sex positive ways, everything Maggie Smith did or said — but, as a whole, it felt like a trudge and the show’s quality was nowhere near what it once was when Sybil was alive and well, showing off her harem pants.. With nothing to lose, Season 6 is a chance to return the show to its former glory. Here are some humble suggestions on what should happen to the characters we have grown to love (and the ones we just put up with):

You might think this show is all about Mary, but you’re wrong. The true star is Edith, patron saint of all misunderstood middle children. I see Edith moving to Germany during the lead up to World War II and infiltrating the Nazi party so that she may exact revenge on whoever killed Michael a.k.a. that dude who knocked her up, didn’t marry her, and promptly vanished. Edith decides to prove everyone wrong and change the course of history by assassinating Hitler. She inevitably screws it up because she’s Edith and is put into a witness protection program under the pseudonym Jan Brady.

Speaking of tragic figures, poor Thomas has been pigeon-holed as the evil, miserable gay trope for the past five seasons. I see Thomas taking his spoon and drugs and moving to the big city, where he meets Virginia Woolf, while walking around Bloomsbury. She helps him get clean and begs to set him up on a blind date! “It’s not just because you’re both gay!” she promises. He relents and his blind date is no other than E.M. Forster, famed writer and fellow wistful closet case. Thomas’ emo-ness cancels out Forster’s emo-ness and they live happily ever after.

For once in her life, Mary doesn’t get what she wants. She dies from shock.

The Dowager Countess gets a very late acceptance letter from Hogwarts. She is outraged by the faux pas, but eventually enrolls. She is sorted into all the houses ’cause she’s got it like that. While studying for her Transfiguration exam, she accidentally ends up Benjamin Button-ing herself. She begins to age backwards and, decades later, goes by her nickname Hermione so that no one asks questions about why she knows how to correctly pronounce Wingardium Leviosa. She doesn’t end up with Ron.

Cora Crawley realizes her marriage sucks and has a meltdown on her bathroom floor before getting a divorce. She rebounds with that art dealer who likes her opinions. That doesn’t end well, inspiring her to move to Italy to eat pasta and not have sex, then over to India for a yoga teacher training, and finally ending up in Bali where she gets her groove back. She writes all about the experience, but is too humble to show it to anyone. Her great granddaughter, Elizabeth Gilbert, inherits the manuscript and puts her name on it.

Branson moves to America and starts a labor union and a soup kitchen and other neat stuff. He gives a really awesome speech at the DNC and becomes a frontrunner for the presidency. Opponents demand to see his birth certificate. He’s like, you know what, this isn’t worth it. His hair never turns grey.

Daisy inherits her dead husband’s farm and fills it with all kinds of math books. She studies her ass off and ends up helping Alan Turing crack Nazi codes, which is later documented in a film called The Imitation Game. Her scenes are unfortunately left on the cutting room floor because patriarchy.

Patmore and Hughes experience a challenging second Saturn return and take to the road. They kill a rapist in a parking lot and rob some stores and put a cop in his own trunk. With the law hot on their trail, they drive their convertible off a cliff and parachute into a hidden valley where they start a super cool women’s collective.

Anna realizes Bates is kind of creepy and dumps him. She parlays her changing-other-people’s-clothes-for-them skills into a career as the person who helps pop stars get into their next costume between songs. She eventually inspires Madonna’s fake British accent.

After he squanders his fortune because he’s terrible at everything, Lord Grantham finds himself alone. Years of ignoring/being rude to the women in his life apparently wasn’t a great life strategy. The only one who stands by his side is Isis, the dog (I refuse to believe that Isis is actually dead). Grantham runs out of dog treats one day and Isis eats him.

The End!

How do you hope things end at Downton? Leave it in the comments! 

[Editor’s Note: A version of this piece was posted on January 29, 2015, when rumors first started that the next season might be the show’s last.]

Are you an avid watcher of The Late Late Show? Yeah, me neither, but I’m about to become one, now that James Corden (a.k.a. the childless baker from Into The Woods) is at the helm, bringing a new vitality to the brand. In his debut episode, he managed to convince Tom Hanks not only to appear on the show, but to recreate all his films at breakneck speed. Hanks’ arm-flailing Woody impression is too adorable for words. See it for yourself:

Corden could have stopped there, but went the extra mile by getting Mariah to agree to ride shotgun in a normal person car and sing along to her own songs. The result is #Beautiful.

The Atlantic is heralding Corden’s arrival to television as “part of a new, cheerful generation of late night.” Based on his first week, we’re more than happy to have him!

Since the departures of comedy greats Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Kristen Wiig, I don’t pay attention to Saturday Night Live like I once did. But every now and then, a celebrity host exceeds expectations and delivers a bit even the haters can love.

This time, the-little-skit-that-could stars The Rock as Bambi and riffs on how Disney’s addiction to transforming animated classics into live-action features (see: Tim Burton’s take on Alice in Wonderland, Robert Stromberg’s Maleficent, Kenneth Branagh’s Cinderella, and the upcoming Beauty and the Beast adaptation starring Emma Watson).

It’s hunting season and Bambi is finally old enough to exact his revenge against those who killed his mother, with the help of Thumper (played by a fake Vin Diesel) and friends. “It’s time for them to pay…deerly.” There are more Carrie Bradshaw-esque puns where that came from. Check it out:

No matter how much we pretend it isn’t so, the truth of the matter is that Jon Stewart will be leaving The Daily Show desk. Last time he abandoned us, we got John Oliver as a fill-in, and look how great that turned out! So it’s with an optimistic heart that we greet the announcement of Stewart’s replacement. Drumroll, please! Is it Samantha Bee? Or Jessica Williams? Or Amy Sedaris? No, Nope, and Nu uh. It’s Trevor Noah!

You might be asking, Who? And that’s okay because that’s exactly what many people said when then relatively unknown Jon Stewart was tapped to take over The Daily Show back in 1999. For those who don’t know, Trevor Noah is a 31-year-old comedian from South Africa, born to a black mother and a white father during apartheid. He speaks six languages and is the subject of a 2011 documentary called You Laugh But It’s True (you can watch it on Netflix!). He’s only appeared on The Daily Show three times (talk about a promotion!), but each bit made an impact, like his very first, in which he uses his outsider perspective to poke fun at America’s myopic perception of Africa.

Or his second, in which he managed to make chess interesting:

Or his third, in which he schooled Jon on what Boko Haram was doing in Nigeria, while the world was focusing on the Charlie Hebdo attack in Paris.

Pretty good, right? If you liked that, you can also watch his comedy specials 2012’s Trevor Noah: That’s Racist and 2013’s Trevor Noah: African American.

While we’ll continue to think of Jon Stewart whenever we hear Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” it’s time to stop pouring one out for him and start pouring it up for Trevor Noah!

Full House lives! According to TVLine, Netflix is dangerously close to green-lighting a new series called Fuller House, starring D.J. Tanner (Candace Cameron Bure) and her BFF Kimmy Gibbler (Andrea Barber), with probable guest stars John Stamos, Bob Saget and Dave Coulier! If you’re feeling a wicked case of deja vu, it’s probably because this kind of news has been reported before and then revealed as a hoax. (You might remember the mini meltdown I had over the last fake-out.)

We’ll hold off celebrating until the paperwork is signed, sealed, delivered, but in the meantime, here is a humble request if this thing is actually going to happen: More Stephanie Tanner! None of the articles I’ve read on the subject have mentioned the best Tanner daughter (how rude!). Why shouldn’t she be in the mix?

She goes to make out parties:

She tells it like it is:

She is an expert at throwing shade:

She faces the same dilemmas as us:

She stands up for herself:

And she break dances to Boys II Men:

I rest my case.

This coming Sunday, a demigod will rise again! No, I’m not talking about Jesus, but Mad Men‘s Don Draper, the womanizing alcoholic we’ve been following for the past eight years. Over that stretch of time, I’ve gone from being obsessed with the show to being fed up with it to attempting to telepathically convince Matthew Weiner that a spin-off starring Peggy and Joan is what modern civilization desperately needs. Through all of this, I never stopped watching.

Maybe you have though. If you’ve lost that loving feeling and want it back, check out these tips on how to feel excited about Mad Men again:

If that works, you’ll probably want to throw a theme party in honor of the show. Want some advice on how to do that? You’re in luck:

And if you can’t wait ’til the season premiere to find out what might be in store for Draper and co., take a look at these new promotional photos and some wild speculations I made based on them:

Now, you should be ready to embark on Mad Men‘s final lap! Will Sal finally resurface? Will Betty snap and go on a homocidal rampage? The only way to find out is by watching the final season, which starts this Easter Sunday, April 5, 2015. See y’all there!

The tween punk friendly clothing brand Hot Topic recently made a brilliant decision launching an Orphan Black inspired clothing line. Now you can rock Cosmina’s bohemian style or something more hardcore like Helena’s. Orphan Black is not the first television show to get in the clothing game and it won’t be the last; there’s the Mad Men collection with Banana Republic and, thanks to The Limited, we can all feel like Olivia Pope.

And why not? For many shows, clothing plays a critical role in setting mood and tone, bringing the creator’s vision to life. You could almost argue that, for a series like Mad Men in particular, the wardrobe is a character unto itself. So let’s take a moment to see which other beloved shows deserve their own fashion line!

Walking Dead

When the world is dealing with a zombie apocalypse, functionality matters, which is something designer Maharishi understands very well, as evidenced by its Spring/Summer 2015 line.

Empire

Although the men have very distinct styles of their own (those scarves), Cookie always steals the show with her fierce looks. Now you can get a taste of her chic animal print with these looks from Giorgio Armani‘s Spring/Summer 2015 collection.

Orange is the New Black

While the prisoners of Litchfield Penitentiary are limited in their clothing options, you have to admit they do make orange look good. Agatha Kowalewski and Sarah Schofield, the creators of the Australian clothing line ASSK, see the potential of the new neon black.

Fresh Off the Boat

Fresh Off The Boat has been making waves for its portrayal of an Asian American family in very suburban Florida. While the comic chops of the cast are worth a watch, so are the super fly fashions of the ’90s. Little Eddie Huang swaggers with the best of them with his Notorious B.I.G. tees and track suits, and you can see those influences in Astrid Anderson‘s men’s Spring/Summer line.

Gotham

Let’s face it, Gotham is as much a city of heroes as it is of villains, but  it seems like the people living in the shadows have the better outfits. If you’ve been dying to dress like the formidable Fish Mooney, you can check out steampunk inspired looks that make up the Mathieu Mirano spring 2014 collection.

Downton Abbey

Downton Abbey is known for its grandeur and sheer luxury, so it makes sense that the king of romance and opulence, Valentino, came out with a line that reflected the best that Downton’s era had to offer.

Game of Thrones

There’s a lot to love about Game of Thrones. Aside form the drama and conniving characters, the inventive looks of key players like Daenerys is another great reason to tune in. Although characters wear everything including fur from head to toe to scraps of cloth, Helmut Lang was able to create some outfits that even we regular people can get a way with.

What other shows do you think deserve their own fashion line? Leave your ideas in the comments!

Let me start with a confession: I have seen every single episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians and its 5 spin-offs (that’s 114 episodes, in case you’re wondering how much of my life I’ve spent thinking about these people versus learning a new language or how to paint a bowl of fruit or undertaking some other worthy pursuit). I have also on numerous occasions defended various members of the Kardashian clan, usually Khloe.

Why the debate? Because the prevailing notion is that they’re famous for no reason (it’s true that they don’t have talent in the traditional sense, but they’re able to create a heightened version of their family life for television that has kept people interested since 2007 and that’s something). Another major criticism is that they will do anything for more publicity and fame (I concede this point).

Over the years, there’s been a lot of family drama, to say the least. Everything from standard sibling bickering to 72 days marriages to serious drug addictions. No matter what kind of craziness goes on, Bruce Jenner is on the sidelines, offering advice that no one heeds. He pretty much stays out of the way and, in recent years, has appeared to disdain his now ex-wife, Kris, and the things she and her children hold dear: looks, fame, name brands, money.

So it was a bit shocking when buzz started to circulate around Jenner for once. Because he prefers his hair long and appears to have an affinity for plastic surgery, rumors began to swirl that he was transitioning. Those two characteristics aren’t enough to make assumptions regarding gender identity, yet here we are.

The family has not publicly commented on Bruce allegedly being trans, but, earlier this year, Kim had this to say, when asked about her stepfather: “I think everyone goes through things in life, and I think that story and what Bruce is going through, I think he’ll share whenever the time is right. I feel like that’s his journey to talk about.”

So, either she means what she says about his supposed transition not being her story to tell…or — and I really hope it isn’t this or — she is teasing around the issue, using terminology that could be applied to a transition, but actually is about something mundane like his transition from being married for 24 years to being single in his 60s.

All our questions will be answered when the much-hyped interview with Diane Sawyer airs on April 24, 2015. The promos tease: “The  Journey, The Decisions, The Future.” And Jenner is quoted as saying: “My whole life has been getting me ready for this.” Again, words that could be about being trans, but are not specific enough to get anyone in trouble if this all turns out to be a ratings ploy. It’s not their fault we assumed they were talking about being trans, right? No one ever said anything explicitly about that.

That level of manipulation seems extreme, even for the Kardashians, but what if they truly go there, in order to get some buzz and to assure that Bruce, who is no longer tied as tightly to the Kardashian empire, still gets a check? Using the very serious topic of trans people owning their truth and enduring everything that comes with that, in order to stay on magazine covers and keep people talking would be wildly insensitive, to say the least.

It seems outlandish to think they would take the risk of pissing off so many people, but I worry nonetheless because I’ve seen this kind of thing play out with them before. A few years ago, there were rumors that Khloe had a different father than the rest of her siblings. This was allowed to play out in the magazines and on the show for months. Could O.J. Simpson be her father? Or maybe this random hairstylist? What should have been a private matter was used as a dramatic arc for TV, only to ultimately be laughed off, because it probably was never true to begin with, manufactured, sold to the media, and acted out for the cameras, until the next storyline was cooked up.  No harm, no foul, cause it was not about their real lives, but about the versions of themselves they play for us.

Last year, when Beyoncé and Jay Z came to town with their On The Run tour and pretended to hate each other, only to be all over each other immediately after the tour ended, I wrote a piece asking if the divorce rumors were all just a marketing scheme:

“Maybe they feel fine messing with our conception of them because, at the end of the day, we don’t know them; it’s all fiction. Maybe they are just playing characters in a modern day opera, putting on the show they know we want to see…Would it be that surprising if they were savvy enough to create a narrative that would keep us interested, keep us buying $300 tickets, while they laugh all the way to the bank?”

Perhaps the only truly surprising thing isn’t how far celebrities will go to keep our interest and stay rich, but the fact that we expect anything else from them.

On a recent trip back East to visit my family, I made them buy a huge recycling bin and educated them on the importance of not throwing styrofoam containers out of the car window on the highway (no, really) and instead treating our planet with respect. Sure, living in San Francisco for almost nine years has definitely turned me into more of a hippie than I was upon arrival (I chant in yoga and have been known to keep browning banana skins and other organic detritus in my bag until I can deposit them in my compost bin at home), but the foundation of my Mother Earth-loving self was not born here, but in front of Nickelodeon in the early ’90s.

That’s where I met Z.Z. Ziff of Salute Your Shorts, a short-lived show about various trouble-making teens and their obnoxious counselor “Ug” at a summer camp called Camp Anawanna. There was the ginger bully and his dim sidekick, the All-American boy, the geek, the prima donna, the sporty girl, a Rilo Kiley member, and, last but certainly not least, the animal-loving, tree-hugging environmentalist. While the other kids were giving into greed or jealousy or whatever other silly thing middle schoolers are into, Z.Z., with her Earth earrings and naive idealism was always the voice of reason.

And never moreso than in the season one finale, “Environmental Party,” in which she attempts to educate her peers about the irreparable damage humans are doing to our fragile planet. At first, she goes the enraged activist route, shutting off the power and water to send a message to her blow-drying, long-shower-taking room mates. She also turns their room into a recycling center. This does not go over well and she is asked: “Are you out of your granola-munching, whole-wheat, tie-dyed save-the-planet mind?!” Um, rude!

Z.Z.’s second approach is better: a catchy song about environmentalism! Sample lyric: “If we don’t change the way we live, we’ll be covered in PUKE AND ROTTING GARBAGE! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!!!” Despite being the best thing ever written (sorry, Marcel Proust), the kids think she’s insane and end up food-fighting and moshing ’cause why the hell not?

Eventually, with the help of a Greek trash collector so stereotypical that his last name is Spanakopita and he randomly exclaims Opa! for no reason (Tourette’s?), Z.Z. gets through to her friends by informing them that they can actually make money from recycling! Being Americans, they respond well to this and, after some soul-searching, come to realize that Z.Z. is not crazy just because she cares about something.

So, in honor of Earth Day, consider shedding your litter bug ways and being more like Z.Z. Ziff. If you happen to write an enraged compost-related song, please send it to me so it can keep “Puke and Rotting Garbage” company on my Love Me Some Gaia playlist. Oh, and you can watch this entire life-defining episode here!

This story was originally published in 2013.

The cultural debate over having kids vs. not having kids continues strong, with impassioned think pieces, statistics and the word “selfish” bandied about in both directions (even the Pope has weighed in!). I used to read these articles with some interest, as if they might hold answers for my own profound ambivalence on the matter, but I do so less these days. It turns out, of course, the answer isn’t there, and the whole discussion begins to feel a little bit noisy after a while. It’s all more personal than this giant public display.

There are a lot of complicated decisions in our lives, ones that take a really long time to make and matter a great deal. Then there are the narratives spinning around us as we do. This happens in a very particular sort of way for women, with a lot of judgement and rules. Our real life decisions and roles are complicated and full of paradox and our popular culture ought to reflect that, rather than simplify or dictate.

The photographer Sally Mann’s recent essay in The New York Times got me thinking about all the rules women must follow, both those shouted loudly from the rooftops and those sneakily, silently believed in the darkest parts of our hearts. We believe mothers embody certain characteristics or they ought to. They are either meant to be earth mamas knitting booties on a loom or harried soccer moms in ads for laundry detergent. They are barren witches or asexual caretakers with no desires of their own. They take naturally to the role of mother as they should or they are stricken by disconnect and a failure of their biology and femininity.

In Mann’s essay, she eloquently, and somewhat defensively, discusses being both an artist and a mother, how the critiques of the former intersected with those of the latter. She famously photographed her young children on their Virginia farm, which caused some serious hoopla over what some deemed the indecent and pornographic quality of the images. Mann’s essay describes the controversy with insight and clarity for the most part, but the claims of those branding her a bad mother clearly rile her. And we do seem particularly ready, as a collective, to label mothers one thing or another, too much of this or not enough of that.

Despite its soapy ridiculousness, the country soap Nashville sometimes reflects some surprisingly accurate versions of ourselves, albeit in the guise of country music stars. A recent storyline has former country starlet Juliette Barnes struggling with a postpartum yearning for country music fame, rooftop concerts, and elevator sex, instead of longing for mother-daughter bonding and bliss with her new baby. The scenes where the baby cries, and Juliette’s face gets all cold, and she wants to go to a party instead sort of give me a wonderful thrill. And not because I’m rooting for the darkness, but because I think the darkness needs to be illuminated a little bit more.

I hope this is the only place on the internet where Nashville and The  Babadook are uttered in the same sentence, but there’s an important thread connecting them. The Babadook inspired Anthony Lane of The New Yorker to declare, “Let a law be passed, requiring all horror films to be made by female directors.” The Babadook is an entirely discomfiting look at motherhood. It examines the all-consuming nature of grief, the sometimes totally annoying demands of a child, and how a mother’s identity fits into those heavy things, exploring whether she will even survive. All of this leads to an admission: being a mother is really, really hard sometimes. As with a lot we don’t readily admit, it seems that just saying this out loud is a great place to start.

Personal essays often seem to be where the complexities of motherhood begin to get the attention they deserve, where some of the tropes break down and make room for more interesting details. Ayelet Waldman’s controversial essay from 10 years ago is a good example, in which she states that she loves her husband more than her children, and subsequently caused the world to freak out. I appreciate her willingness to thoughtfully explore an unpopular point of view and her reminder that there are countless experiences of love and motherhood. She writes:

“And if my children resent having been moons rather than the sun? If they berate me for not having loved them enough? If they call me a bad mother?

I will tell them that I wish for them a love like I have for their father. I will tell them that they are my children, and they deserve both to love and be loved like that. I will tell them to settle for nothing less than what they saw when they looked at me, looking at him.”

There is also the amazing Megan Daum, whose essay on social work, miscarriages, and the decision to be a mother (or not) is one of the most interesting things I’ve read in a long time, about any subject. Much like Waldman’s piece, I felt grateful and reassured by the voice of a woman so truly and specifically sharing her individual experience.

Ditto Maggie Nelson’s essay on childbirth, which mixes transcendence and death in equal measure. She considers the idea of childbirth as a way to feel a certain closeness with death. At first glance, it might seem like a morbid notion, but I don’t think it is. We are born and we will die. It makes sense that a woman deeply engaged in the act of giving birth would be profoundly, physiologically reminded of the counter-pose.

My own mom once told me that, when I was first born, she cried because she realized that someday I would die. Who among us might know that in their bones more than our mothers? It isn’t sweet or sentimental, it isn’t an ad for laundry detergent, or a lifestyle blog with a handmade bassinet, or a pink glittered card to send on one day of the year. It’s far darker, deeper, and more profound than all that. It’s much more about love. We should all be willing to tell these stories, and we should all want to listen.

Mothers’ Day is right around the corner, a day about finally remembering to return your mom’s phone calls and crafting bad macaroni art that expresses your appreciation for her. It’s also a day to remember those other women that helped mold you into the dazzling creature you have become. No, I’m not talking about your first grade teacher or your great grandmother (although I’m sure they’re really spectacular women); I’m talking about those fictional moms that made an impact through television or movies, the ones that you sometimes wished were your mom and the ones that made you thankful for your own.

Here are the most frightening and most beloved fictional mothers in the history of forever:

THE FRIGHTENING

Joan Crawford: Mommie Dearest

Joan Crawford isn’t technically a fictional character, but there is some dispute over how accurate her daughter’s depiction of her is so I say it counts (also, why would we forgo any opportunity to talk about Joan Crawford?). So we all know that Joan is not a huge fan of wire hangers (who is really?), but that’s the least of it. Crawford also ties her son to his bed, says “I’d rather you go bald to school than looking like a tramp!” while cutting off her daughter’s hair, forces her daughter to stay at the dinner table overnight until she finishes her undercooked steak, says “YOU LOVE TO MAKE ME HIT YOU!” while slapping her daughter in front of a reporter, and then leaves them both out of her will. Way harsh, Tai.

Margaret White: Carrie

Some teens lock themselves in their rooms and write bad poetry about how absolutely horrible their mother is for grounding them or taking away phone privileges or whatever. These whiners obviously haven’t seen Carrie, a movie that makes most mothers look as gentle as Dumbo’s mom. Margaret White has a lot of opinions on what is suitable behavior for her daughter, Carrie. Let’s go over some of them: she should never wear red (that’s for hell-bound whores), she should only refer to her breasts as “dirty pillows,” she should think of pimples as “the Lord’s way of chastising you,” she should pray and ask forgiveness for her sinful period, she should be cool with getting tea thrown in her face, and she should heed the mantra: “They’re all going to laugh at you!” It’s enough to make anyone become a pyromaniac murderer!

Mary Jones: Precious

While there’s a degree of campy comedy to Joan Crawford and Margaret White, there’s nothing funny about Mary Jones (except maybe this genius creation). Not only does she facilitate her daughter’s sexual abuse, Mary also mentally abuses her and tries to drop a television on her head. The only capable person to negotiate a train wreck like this is a social worker played by Mariah Carey.

Betty Draper: Mad Men

Remember that time when you were a real brat during your puberty era? Well, Betty Draper seems to have gotten stuck there. She’s petulant, self-involved and never satisfied, all characteristics that keep her from being a good mother. Like when Sally showed up wearing a plastic dry cleaning bag over her head and Betty warned that the clothes better not be in a pile somewhere. Or when she told Bobby to go bang his head against a wall after he said he was bored. Or when she dragged Sally into a closet and locked her inside (“You’re hurting me!” “Good!”). You get the picture.

THE BELOVED

Clair Huxtable: The Cosby Show

Before Beyonce had the trademark on being perfect, it was all Clair Huxtable, a tough, elegant lawyer and mother of five children. While her husband believes he holds the power in the household, it’s usually Clair who gets to the bottom of things with a lecture about why you can’t just run off to Baltimore without permission or a perfect lesson on feminism (if you only click on one link for the rest of your life, let it be this one).

Molly Weasley: Harry Potter

The epitome of a mother hen, Molly Weasley is an encouraging, doting mother, who loves to make everyone feel at ease, despite, you know, the world possibly ending and everyone dropping dead and all of that jazz. But that doesn’t mean she’s just a domestic goddess; she will kill your ass if you threaten one of her children (see animated gif above).

Lorelai Gilmore: Gilmore Girls

Best fictional mom? Duh. Best fictional TV character ever? Quite possibly! Lorelai Gilmore is an impressive mom for more reasons than I can get into at the moment, but here are a few:

• named her daughter after herself because a. men do it all the time and b. why not?
• left a life of privilege with a baby in tow at the age of 16 and worked her way up from a maid at an inn to running the joint.
• put aside her pride and made a deal with her estranged parents to send her daughter to a good prep school.
• provided a sanctuary away from a scary religious Korean mother for her daughter’s best friend.
• sang “Wind Beneath My Wings” by Bette Middler instead of getting upset after finding out her underage daughter attended a kegger and was the cause of severe property damage.
• did not kill her daughter when she dropped out of college and stole a boat.

But the best way to sum up the greatness of Lorelai Gilmore (apart from rewatching the entire series every year which I totally do) is through her daughter’s valedictorian speech (grab a tissue!):

SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN

Queen Mother: Alien

Take Molly Weasley’s protective vibe and multiply it by 7000 (plus buckets of slime saliva) and you get the Queen Mother from Alien. Sure, she’s frightening and monstrous and mutilates everyone who crosses her path, but she has her reasons! They pose a risk to her babies and she is not having any of that. No one said being maternal was always pretty.

Lucille Bluth: Arrested Development

Sure, she has a pill problem and drinks before most people wake up in the morning and is real about not particularly liking some of her children, but somehow all of that doesn’t keep us from falling in love with Lucille every time she’s on screen. Maybe she’s not one to help you with your geometry homework or pack you a healthy, well-balanced lunch, but you should really be doing that for yourself anyway. Cheers and winks to this wonderful woman!

And there you have it, ladies and gentleman! Which fictional moms would make your list? And when are you going to call your mom? (Answer: right now).

A version of this story was originally published in 2013.

Ever since Gilmore Girls was abruptly yanked from airwaves back in 2007, fans have tried to forget the sloppy way the brilliant show ended through a mixture of repeated marathons of better seasons and sheer denial. Rumors of a movie or mini-season have bubbled up pretty consistently over the years, but never from the lips of someone actually connected to the show. Until now, that is!

Scott Patterson, a.k.a. Luke “Butch” Danes, appeared on the Gilmore Guys podcast and had this to say:

“There are talks going on at the moment…So I’m hopeful, and you know, I’m in. I think it would be a big event, and I think it would be a great fan celebration. They deserve it. I think there’s a lot of territory left unexplored that we could explore in a limited series or a TV movie or feature film, whatever that may be. I think it really just comes down to the script. I think everybody would jump on board.”

Hold me!

We already know that most of the cast is set to reunite for a panel at next month’s ATX Television Festival. Maybe they’ll announce their master plan? Or just have the chance to make one?

While we wait to find out, here’s what this Gilmore Girls fanatic needs from any future iteration of the show:

Give us the Luke and Lorelai wedding!

The writers and stars of Gilmore Girls had no idea the last episode of Season 7 would be the last ever so what we’re left with is an abrupt, vague, unsatisfying womp of an ending. Fans are most bitter about missing out on a Lorelai and Luke wedding, something that was years in the making. Any new season or movie will need to make that right with a flashback of some sort. Or maybe we didn’t miss the wedding? Picture it: L&L hold out for all these years because, like Angie and Brad Pitt, they wanted to wait until all gays could also get married. Speaking of the gays…

Let Michel (and others) be gay!

While Lorelai and Rory seem to be pretty progressive, the show itself is a bit tone-deaf when it comes to LGBT issues. Although not as cringe-worthy as Friends (I dare you to count the number of gay panic jokes), Gilmore Girls has its moments, like when Lorelai tells Luke, “We need to leave the country and have extensive plastic surgery and sex changes, both of us! So…we can kiss and not look funny.”

These occasional gay jokes are the closest the show gets to having any LGBT visibility, as no character within the extensive cast is out. But some characters could be read as gay. There’s Michel, the wise-cracking French concierge who loves Celine Dion and parties all night with Janet Jackson drag queens. And Gypsy, the unmarried auto mechanic. And Sookie’s midwife doula, Bruce. It’s about time Gilmore Girls got with the times and allowed gays to become more than just a punchline.

Put Emily outside her comfort zone!

With the passing of Edward Herrmann, Emily Gilmore would presumably either be divorced or a widow. This is an opportunity for her to fully commit to her chain-smoking, dgaf alter ego. Let’s see what happens when she doesn’t get her hair set every day and quits the DAR to dance with hot dudes at singles bars. Or maybe Richard leaves all his money to his lurking ex, Pennilyn Lott, and Emily has to move in with Lorelai! Yes, that’s it!

Allow Lane to enjoy something!

Lane, Rory’s super cool, music-obsessed first-generation bestie, rebelled in early seasons: hiding CDs under her bedroom floorboards, kissing Seth Cohen from The OC while clutching a Bible, and dyeing her hair purple in protest of her mother’s suffocating expectations. But, as the show progressed, Lane ended up losing her nerve and became a martyr with a habit of settling for less.

She agreed to attend a super Christian school that frowns on girls interacting with boys. She settled for Zach, an immature layabout. She only had sex once and didn’t enjoy it and ended up pregnant with twins. And she settled for a best friend who doesn’t keep in touch and only appears when she needs something.

After being relegated to the sidelines and treated like a mere afterthought by the show’s writers for so long, it’s time Lane got hers. Give the girl a storyline! Allow her to get her groove back!

No more Logan!

In the beginning of the series, Rory was counter-culture, albeit in a goodie good sort of way. Enter Logan and all of a sudden she’s hosting DAR functions and wearing pearls and not talking to her mom. Nothing good came from Logan’s introduction and only good can come from his permanent exile.

Put Jackson in jail!

With Melissa McCarthy’s meteoric rise to fame (who would have thunk?), Sookie might not even be in the mix in a future Gilmore Girls project. If she doesn’t Olsen twin her way out of the reunion, I humbly request that her husband, Jackson, does not make an appearance. He might seem innocuous, but lest we forget the time he lied to his wife about getting a vasectomy in order to trick her into having more children than she wanted. The only way I want to see him is if the storyline involves Sookie taking him to court over that mess.

Let’s agree to forget April Nardini!

The show jumped the shark when it introduced Luke’s secret love child, as a way to drive a wedge between Luke and Lorelai. Instead of creating an interesting tension, all it really achieved was infuriating fans and making Luke seem like a huge jerk. It was an unnecessary move deserving of a mindless soap opera, not our beloved whip-smart show. We don’t need a reminder of these dark times. Let’s not speak of her again.

Do not even think about recasting anyone!

The last thing the world needs is another Becky from Roseanne situation. During its run, Gilmore Girls recast Mia, the hotel owner who gave Lorelai her first job, and it was really weird. Almost as weird as when the show cast Sherilyn Fenn in two separate roles. Just say no.

Rory doesn’t get back with an ex…unless it’s Jess!

I’ve already mentioned that Logan should take his stupid rocket gift and be gone. Dean also can’t sit with us. He was an okay first boyfriend (he built her a car!), but he was also jealous, needy and controlling. Rory needs to move on from these zeroes and get with a hero, probably someone brand new…

…unless it’s Jess. Yes, he was bratty at times, but his chemistry with Rory is unparalleled and he was the only guy who truly understood her. By the end of the show, he had calmed down and emotionally matured, on his way to becoming the Dave Eggers of Philadelphia. He tried to make things right with Rory several times, but she was too blinded by Logan’s privilege to take it seriously. Now could be their moment! (Prediction: we’re all a few minutes away from  Google image searching lots of pictures of Milo Ventimiglia.)

Please include the hallowed final four words!

Show-runner Amy Sherman-Palladino has teased that she has known the final four words of the show since its early days, but we never got to find out what they were. Any movie or future season obviously needs to include them and give us the ending that we deserve. Make it so, arc that bends towards justice!

What do you hope to see in a future Gilmore Girls reunion? Leave it in the comments!

After four months of fierce competition, RuPaul finally crowned America’s Next Drag Superstar last night in a pre-taped reunion special. Many people at the live screening I attended complained about how unmoved Violet Chachki looked, upon hearing the news of her win. There’s a reason for that.

For the past four seasons, the producers of RuPaul’s Drag Race film three separate outcomes to avoid spoilers. The queens find out who the true winner is by watching the episode, just like us!

With that in mind, the televised crowning ceremony seems less vital. No matter how good of an actor one is, it’s impossible for a queen to accurately project how they will feel and act upon winning until it actually happens.

Thankfully, the kind people at Logo taped the final three queens watching the finale last night. Check out their reactions below:

It’s no secret that I’m a Full House fan. I’ve written about how crestfallen I felt when news of a reunion were false and how excited I was when that news came true. Also, coworkers can attest to the young adult novel based on the series that is prominently displayed in my cubicle (in case you’re wondering, it’s Stephanie’s The Big Fix-Up Mix-Up). So I’m obviously going to have feelings about Lifetime’s The Unauthorized Full House Story TV movie.

First question: why are they doing this? When they gave Saved by the Bell the same treatment, it kind of made sense because there would probably be some famous-teens-run-amok-in-Hollywood behind-the-scenes dirt (there wasn’t). Most of the Full House cast was made up of children so how scandalous can it really get? Maybe there will be a dramatic reenactment of Ashley Olsen spilling some of her Capri Sun or Mary-Kate wiping a booger on someone?

Despite the fact that we no one wants this TV movie, Lifetime is set on doing it anyway, as evidenced by this official cast photo they just released:

My initial impressions can be best expressed in gif form:
      

This is what the Full House cast would have looked like in an alternate dimension where everything right is wrong. Uncle Jesse, who many of us had the hots for before we knew what that meant, has been the most disgraced here. He’s being played by one of Miley Cyrus’ ex-boyfriends, and not even the one who inspired much of her actually-very-good album Bangerz! Uncle Joey did not fare much better. Somewhere, Alanis Morissette is smiling to herself. Danny Tanner is being played by someone whose most interesting credit on IMDb is that he played a Marine in Pirates of the Caribbean…the video game. And the Tanner girls are dressed all wrong. So much floral.

Where are the geometric shapes?

The funky musical notes?

The yarn people adornments?

And where oh where is Kimmy’s mullet?

This isn’t rocket science, Lifetime. Google Image search is your friend. And y’all should have just gotten John Stamos to reprise his role because he still has it going on. And the worst part about this whole thing is that, because of this grotesque cast photo, there is a 97% chance I will actually watch your god-forsaken TV movie. So I guess kudos are in order.