Ah, Regret.


Dykey Old Men
Wed, 25 March 2009, 8:38 am
Filed under: Required Reading | Tags: , , , ,

So.  Here at unicorn central, we’ve talked about old lesbians, and we’ve talked about men who (reeeallylove lesbians, but there’s one fascinating demographic we have yet to discuss:  men who look like old lesbians.  

What?  Well… it’s just one of those things that you have to see for yourself.  From Cracked.com, here is a list of The Top 25 Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians.  (It’s like a much harsher-on-the-eyes version of AfterEllen.com’s Top 10 Lesbian-ish Men.)

First of all, a note to my, um, mature lesbian readers.  Ladies, this post is NOT about you!  I think you’re very pretty, and you’re not even that old.  So don’t get cranky.  Let’s see that youthful smile!  That youthful sense of humor!

And lezbros, don’t you get all upset either–just because you hang out with us all the time doesn’t mean you’ll start looking like us one day (exception: Figure 1).  It just means that, at some point, you will suddenly realize that your manly stoicism has been replaced by the constant urge to barf feelings all over the place.  (This is perfectly normal.  Just grab a box of tissues and an ice cream cake and wait for it to pass.)

Fig. 1

Fig. 1: The Exception.

Now let’s talk about the list.  First of all, I find it hilarious, despite the nagging feeling that I should somehow feel offended by it.  But then again, having read my girlfriend Ariel Levy’s New Yorker article about the Van Dykes–a group of radical, REAL lesbians who probably wouldn’t hesitate to punch me in the face if they saw this blog post–I already know that I’m a poor excuse for a lesbian.  So I’ll just suppress my guilt about that and hold on to it forever.  (Ah, regret.)

Moving right along.  You may have noticed that my beloved current state of residence, the big C-O, got a few shoutouts on the list.  That’s right–apparently I’m living in some sort of paradise for old lesbians.  (You know, now that I think about it, I probably should have realized this earlier–I mean, Colorado is home to comfortable-footwear companies (Crocs), organic grocers (Wild Oats Market), and a place called Beaver Creek.)  Let’s take a look:

 

#22.  Robert Redford

He Is:

Actor. Director.

Looks Like:

The head of Women’s Studies at Community College of Denver.

 

#15. John Denver

He Was:

Singer. Country boy. Aviator.

Looks Like:

The founder of Colorado’s first Lesbian Games, a non-competitive Olympics guaranteeing “participation trophies” for all entrants.

 

Nice.  Also, I am horrified/amused to note that the author of this list, Keith Mays–a “pioneer in the field of men who look like old lesbians”–has an entire blog devoted to this subject.  Wow, this guy sure is dedicated.  But he’d better not show up in Colorado anytime soon–old dykes aren’t exactly known for their sense of humor.

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“The L Word” 6×08: Dear Jenny, No Regrets

rip

If you’ve read any of my “L Word” posts to date,  then first of all, you deserve some kind of award.  But more to the point, you probably already have a pretty good idea of what I’m going to say about the finale.  I’m probably going to use words like “phew!”, “relieved”, and “thank god that’s over”.  And I’ll admit that, up until this week, I probably would have agreed with you.  But now that the “Last Word” has been spoken, as it were, it turns out both you and I were wrong.  It turns out that, now that it’s all over, the last words I have for this show are “disappointed” and “sad”.

“Disappointed” as in, “I’m not angry, Ilene…  just disappointed.”  (You know how much worse that is!)  For five years, “The L Word” was the only show in town. So, as you can imagine, lesbians were filled with high hopes (and a lot of other feelings) for it.  And for a few seasons, things went pretty well (huge exception:  Dana’s death–which Ilene supposedly regrets, HA).  Like other TV shows, it had its share of annoyingly outrageous plot lines, but overall it was exciting to see a bunch of lesbians (just like us!  Sort of.)  living, loving, laughing, and all of those other l’s.  But by the time Season Five rolled around, the grumblings were getting louder.  Jenny was becoming unbearably bitchy/crazy.  Adele was even worse.  Shane still couldn’t hold on to a girlfriend for more than five minutes.   The dialogue seemed poorly written (maybe it always was, and we were just now noticing?).  Dana was still dead.  Etc.  Etc.

Sadly, the worst was yet to come.  As soon as the first rumors of Season Six’s “murder-mystery” theme hit the internetz, I realized that this series was about to carry on for one season too long.  In Season Five, the filming of Lez Girls (essentially a movie about the show, contained within it) brought the show to the brink of cheesiness: it was a gimmicky plot device, yet its bizarreness was actually kind of interesting–entertaining, at the very least.  But Season Six–the Max pregnancy, the show’s LBD, the “Who killed Jenny?” crap–now that was just a mockery.  

To paraphrase Alex, was Ilene even trying?  “The L Word” used to be meaningful, at times funny, and–for the most part–enjoyable.  It used to be respectable not just as a TV show about lesbians, but as a TV show period.  But now, I can’t help but feel a sense of loss–and it’s not so much over Jenny’s death (well OK, maybe a little–I kind of liked her in Season Five!) or the show’s end (although that’s certainly sad–especially considering the astounding lack of any other lesbian shows on television right now, five years later).  What really makes me sad is the show’s loss of dignity.  And that’s the one thing that could prove even harder to get over than Dana’s death.  (Like Marge Simpson would say, I’m a woman.  I can hold on to it forever.)

And now, only one question remains:  which will we miss less, that unbearable theme song, or these unbearably long recaps?

Here’s a little something to help you decide.



“The L Word” 6×07: Lost Opportunity

reality

OK, good news/bad news time.  Good news:  Compared to last week’s cringefest, 6×07 was Emmy-worthy.  (Which really, really isn’t saying much.  But still.)  Bad news:  The amount of sexual activity on this show is still right on par with that of an actual lesbian.  (Yes–“The L Word” has LBD.  I mean, I know we’re going on five years, but come on.  It’s a drama series, not a reality show!)

And now, let’s have a moment of silence for an opportunity that was tragically lost in this episode:  Bette–played by Jennifer Beals, as you know–was involved in a dance competition.  So um… WHY DIDN’T BETTE DO THE FLASHDANCE DANCE?!  It would have salvaged the entire season, for god’s sake!  So would anything involving Kelly Wentworth and caffeine pills!  Or even one decent sex scene!  Is that really so much to ask?

OK,  you see that?  I always get too worked up during the introduction.  How am I ever going to get through this entire thing?  How are you ever going to?  Who will be the last reader standing?

PUSH IT!

First, when there’s nothing…



“The L Word” 6×06: “L Word” Intolerant

spotted

(You’d think that all lesbians, by default, have the enzyme that enables the digestion of “The L Word” Season Six.  Well, either I’m lacking said enzyme, or it just doesn’t exist.  But I’m hoping beer will perform a lactaid-like function.)

I know I say this every week, but this episode really was the worst one yet.  I swear!  I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever actually begged Bondy to fast-forward through a scene before.  Yeesh.

One realization I had after sitting through this particularly painful episode was that up until now, I had really been taking the show’s gratuitous sex scenes for granted.  But now I truly understand that they are not in fact “gratuitous”.  They serve a very important purpose, which–as any straight man could tell you–is to make even the most excruciating “L Word” episodes at least remotely watchable.

That’s right: this week’s episode did not include any hot girl-on-girl action whatsoever.  Well OK, technically it had one “sex scene” (Tasha jackhammering Alice on the sofa), but it was so far from “hot” that I really can’t count it.  Another sex scene almost happened (Shane and Niki having an artsy darkroom encounter) but alas, Shane’s untimely barfing fit put a quick–not to mention completely gross–stop to that one.

On a side note, this week’s viewing included special guest Campbell.  Previously, the only “L Word” episodes he had seen were from Seasons One and Two.  (Needless to say he was not only disgusted, but also shocked to see Shenny happening.)  And so the question remains: why would he ever want to ruin that by watching this season?  Is he a dedicated lezbro, or just a fool (like the rest of us)?  It’s hard to say.  But now he has no excuse not to read this entire post and leave a relevant comment!  Looking forward to it, bud.

Fish Tacos!!



Kanye isn’t gay, he just really loves old school Nuggets jerseys

One of the main purposes–the main purpose, I daresay–of this blog is to barf rainbows all over your computer screen.  So, in that spirit, I’d like to pay tribute to my fellow rainbow-worshipping blogger, Kanye West.

sweater

Apparently Mr. West is gay.  Not gay as in “gay”, but gay as in “dope”.  I mean seriously, don’t get it twisted–he does not like dudes.  In fact, he has had sexual intercourse with many women, he’ll have you know.  But despite his unwavering heterosexuality, Kanye loves “gay”.  And, not one to keep his feelings all bottled up inside, the rapper–who has described himself as “the voice of this generation”–barfed a rainbow all over the latest issue of Details magazine (thanks Alex).

Blehhh!



“The L Word” 6×05: Cats Do It Better

eb

Looking back on this week’s offering, I’m finding myself somewhat at a loss for words.  “Cringeworthy” just isn’t doing this show justice anymore.  I need a better way to describe it.  I mean, my physical reaction to a scene involving something like, say, Helena and Dylan gnawing on each other’s lips, cannot accurately be described as “cringing”.  A cringe is a fleeting little wince.  The sensation I’m getting is more like… broken glass in my stomach.

What’s that, Madge?  Those sound like the classical symptoms of a Showtime-Original-Series-induced stomach ulcer?  Oh crap.  How much time do I have left?  I just hope I live until the evening of March 8–the series finale.  I can’t die in peace without knowing who killed–oh.  Right.  We’re not going to find that out.  Why won’t the lord just take me now!!

(Dykes?  Dramatic?  Nah.)

Meow.



“The L Word” 6×04: Plastic, paper, lesbians?

angie

You did it again, didn’t you.  You spent your Sunday night on the couch with your gal pals, cable box tuned to Showtime, cringing, complaining, and yelling at the TV.  Tell me, why do you keep putting yourself through this?  Couldn’t you have watched the Grammys or something instead?  You know, I’m starting to think you actually enjoy this.  Mmm hmm. Yeah.  You like it, don’t you.

The hit club, hit, it’s a hit–it’s a hit, it’s hit me…