the walking dead: my viewing timeline

Read "Backlash" or I'll chew your face off!

Pilot: Okay, there were 2 women in this thing — live ones, anway — they had exactly one scene, and only one of them displayed any kind of personality. And that personality was “Make half-hearted attempt to stand up for something you believe is right; capitulate immediately to the alpha male and go make out with him in the forest”. But okay, it’s the pilot, you really shouldn’t judge shows by them.

Episode One: Why are they making the woman whose idea it was to look for escape via the sewer wait on the roof while two dudes who know nothing on the subject crawl around in the tunnels? (The cartoonishly racist character played by Michael Rooker was also offensive; not because he was racist but because it suggested that all racist people are really oafish and obvious in their racism. We all know that nowadays, the more subtle forms of dogwhistle racism are much more corrosive.)

Episode 2: Okay, WOW. Apparently women’s job in the zombie apocalypse will be laundry. And cowering in the bushes whenever a zombie shambles into camp.

Episode 3: Oh look, women got to do something besides laundry: fish! You know what, too little too late. Peace out, show.

Look, my problem with this show is not that some of the characters are sexist. It’s that the show itself is sexist. It assumes that when civilization collapses, everyone will just blindly fall back into these rigid, archaic gender roles. And except for some token grumbling by them uppity kollij-edumacated wimminz, this will be accepted as just and meet. It treats the notion that women are human beings as some kind of silly indulgence of effete civilizations that will just naturally fall by the wayside when the shit hits the fan.

One of the things I’ve always liked about end-of-the-world scenarios is the theme of people rising above, of finding strength they didn’t know they had. World War Z is a great example of this, as is the classic doomsday comet novel from the 1970s Lucifer’s Hammer (and let’s just ignore, for our purposes here, the parts of that book that are horribly racist). People that can contribute to the camp are going to be treated well for it, and what they’re packing between their legs is secondary. Sitting on your ass all day, like that wife-beater; or freaking out and maniacally digging graves until you get sunstroke and have to be tied to a tree? Hit the road, you wastes of skin.

Not to succumb to internet tough guy-ism here, but I really don’t see myself finding a man to take care of the scary monsters for me when the dead rise from their graves. I’ve read The Zombie Survival Guide. I’m going looting at Academy Sports in Lafayette (picture a super Wal-Mart with nothing but guns and other weapons and sporting goods) and TCOB myself. Plus, I know how to pickle (and theoretically, preserve meat). Dude, I would totally make it.

I’ve heard from people who read the graphic novels that the television show made some improvements, and hooray for them, I guess. But there’s always gonne be something that’s more sexist. It doesn’t mean I have to accept things that are a little less sexist.

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what happens when a happy hippo meets a hungry, hungry hippo?

Today was the first day in nearly 5 months where, when I left the building at noon to move my car so I wasn’t blocking anyone in, I didn’t want to drop dead from the heat and humidity. It was actually… pleasant. And when I left the house this morning it was… chilly. AND! I only used my a/c at about 1/2 power on the way to work. *GASP*

We may have another hot flash before it leaves town for good, but summer’s ugly grasping claws finally seem to be loosening its deathgrip.

I made supper (we eat breakfast, dinner, and supper in Louisiana) for my grandmother last night* and didn’t feel like planning a bento on top of that, and Rouses was having a 2 for $5 sale on those Stouffer’s frozen subs, so I just bought a bunch of them for my lunches this week. But I also have a Happy Hippo milk & cocoa creme biscuit. I bought a box at World Market a while back. THEY ARE AWESOME AND YOU ARE JELLUS

*I made my famous maple-mustard chicken, the recipe of which I’ve never posted because I always, ALWAYS forget to take a photo of it. I forgot last night too, so fuck it, here’s the recipe:

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Put 1.5-2 lbs. boneless chicken thighs in a single layer in a glass oven-proof casserole dish, season with salt & pepper to taste.
Mix 1/2 cup Dijon mustard, 1/4 cup pure maple syrup (ACTUAL maple syrup, not sugary fake crap like Log Cabin), and 1 tbsp. unseasoned rice vinegar. Pour over chicken, turning pieces once to thoroughly coat, and cook for 20-25 minutes.
A good trick, which I almost always forget, is to line the dish with aluminum foil so you don’t spend the next week scraping burnt maple sugar off the casserole dish.
From the I ❤ Trader Joe’s Cookbook

I also made my cheddar garlic biscuits, even though Mom says Granny “isn’t a bread person”, but I think she liked them. Mom said Grandpa would have loved them; “But he thought anything you did was ***~~WONDERFUL~~***.” I miss Grandpa. Everyone should have one person who thinks everything they do is ***~~WONDERFUL~~***.

A show I forgot to mention in my quick capsule review of the 2010-2011 teevee season is AMC’s Rubicon. It’s sort of like Three Days of the Condor, if that movie moved at a glacial pace. And that’s not a bad thing, the slow pace really makes you sit up and think about what you’re seeing; as opposed to 24-style *car bombs* *people getting tortured* *hero yelling all manly WE HAVE TO FIND THE BOMB!!!* that totally numbs your brain after half an episode.

I am also looking forward to AMC’s The Walking Dead, which premieres on Halloween. Zombies + Lennie James + the director of Shawshank Redemption (okay so he also directed The Green Mile, I DON’T CARE LIFETIME PASS FOR SR Y’ALL) = me, glued to the TV.

Also, this season of Hoarders has been an absolutely horrifying trainwreck, if the train was filled with cat poo and collided with a mountain of garbage bags filled with human poo.