On the nature of blood-sucking serial killers…

Guess who has watched almost every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the past two weeks? (Helpful hint – it’s probably me.)

Yes, yes. Good old Buffy. Always there when you need some cheesy 90s junk food for your brain. Reliable, you know? Dependably Joss Whedon-tastic. I heart Whedon so much. I’m actually glad that The Avengers has (almost) made him a household name. His writing is witty and pun-ful in a way that I think really appeals to the nerd brain. While the words themselves are sometimes clunky in the mouth, they’re extra clever, even if you have to wait until the end of the sentence for the pieces of the joke to click together. Smart humor. Which makes for smart characters, and shows a kind of trust in the audience’s intelligence. I appreciate that. I do not, however, appreciate yet another shitty theme song. Seriously, Whedon, what the hell?

This is the first time that I’ve re-watched the series in quite a while. I’ve seen the first three or four seasons a bajillion times, but I don’t think I ever got around to watching the last couple of seasons more than once. So those episodes are new and exciting. Thanks, Netflix. The seventh season aired in 2002 (which may be a contributing factor in the simultaneous failure of Firefly, that split focus of the creator and producers). So I went on a little googling mission to see what everyone on the cast is up to these days. Because they were in their twenties playing high school characters, right? I think those kinds of actors are typically pretty fucked up after the show ends (see also: 90210, Saved by the Bell, etc). And we all know fucked-up-ed-ness interests me greatly.

And lo! The internet did give unto the blogger sweet, sweet rant fodder. I found this little niblet of awesome. (Fair warning, if you watch the video part of that: it is beyond weird to hear James Marsters speaking in his real voice. Just so you know.) First of all, how great is it that he found such an insightful connection between Spike and Spock? And secondly, the man makes an excellent point about the many and varied cultural uses and impacts of vampires.

I know I don’t talk about it much here, but I’m a pretty tremendous horror fan. It seems tangential to the science fiction and fantasy thing, somehow. Not quite as squarely geek-centric on the pop culture Venn diagram. My first paid writing gig was actually doing online movie reviews of B and C (and sometimes Q or W) grade zombie films. It was great fun, but it’s taken me years to get the taste of some of those movies out of my eyeballs. You know when movies are so bad that you watch them on mute and fast-forward? Yeah, those. Anyway, zombies aside, I love horror of all flavors. And I think Marsters makes a good point in that interview, that vampires are the most versatile of the horror monsters. Because, at their center, they’re the monsters who retain the most humanity. Ghosts are incorporeal. Werewolves are essentially pure beastly instinct. Frankensteinian monsters are, in my opinion, just mad robots. And zombies are mindless eating machines (no wonder they’ve become so beloved here in ‘Mericuh of late).

Vampires are mostly still people. Problem is, they’re junkies. And if you’ve ever hung out with junkies you know that they’re basically just whiny, needy babies. Gimmegimmegimme, wantwantwant all the fucking time. Vampires are driven by need, by hunger. They’re always incomplete. Some are depicted as more evil, taking enjoyment from the thrill of the hunt. And some are just looking for their next meal and kill because they have to. But they all want to eat you. That’s their job. They’re not, by and large, hunting wild animals or sucking alley cats dry, right? What’s interesting about vampires as a cultural construct is that their food is sentient. (And don’t give me that “cows have feelings” crap. I know you’re out there, vegetarians, and I respect your lifestyle choices, but we’re talking about monsters here.)

That’s why they’re so alluring, isn’t it? They’re tricksy and false, those vamps. They have to talk you into getting close to them. In the dark. And then they suck on your neck. It’s all very sexual. Sex and death have always been intertwined. Sex can kill in many ways. Childbirth, disease, murder, madness – all deadly to varying degrees. In the middle ages, orgasms were even euphemized as “the little death.” So it makes sense that vampires would be these romantic figures, doesn’t it? They’re always young and strong and beautiful, but they carry the wisdom of old age and much practice. It’s a very appealing combo. In some lore, they have the power of hypnotism or mind control, but I argue that that could just be an extension of animal sexuality if one has the right victim. We’re weak creatures. Food, sex, and death are all that are required of us, and vampires wrap it all up in a hot little package of social commentary.

Having said that, I’m annoyed at vampire love stories. Vampires in love with each other I have no problem with. But vampires and people? My mama always told me not to play with my food. The basic, fundamental glitch in this trope is that there is a huge difference between your run-of-the-mill bad boy type and someone who has the potential to drink your fluids until you die. It’s all about difference between sex and love. It makes perfect sense that vampires would use their sexuality to tempt and beguile in order to achieve their junkie goals. But they’re not built to love you. They’re monsters, finely tuned killing machines. Con artists and serial murderers, all. I think that jumping from using sex as a weapon to equating sexuality with love is an insurmountable intellectual leap, and one I’m not willing to make.

And here’s the thing that really bugs the shit out of me: in my experience, these stories are one-sided. It’s always some dark and brooding and suave dude vampire who gets romantically involved with some impressionable young lady who doesn’t have the wherewithal to separate sex from love. It’s never a hot lady vamp trying to play house with a teenage or twenty-something guy and live happily ever after, is it? No. Because young men are much less likely to make that emotional connection. They listen to their junk and it gets them eaten alive, possibly literally. Female vampires, therefore, come across as much more ruthless. Their use of their sexuality as a ploy to attract victims, as bait, if you will, seems starkly weaponized and tactical. There’s no room in the mythology for this particular gender role reversal. Hardly seems fair, both to vampires and to readers/watchers of those piece of shit love stories.

“Oh, you can trust me. I’m a good guy. I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ve changed.” It’s a bullshit line. Why do people fall for that? Supernatural monsters or no, if anyone ever tries to feed you that line you should turn and walk away as fast as possible. This moony, swoony girl character that we’re showing to a whole generation of young women and that they’re going to take as both pop culture icon and role model? I want to smack those characters in the mouth for being weak and stupid and insipid. That whole “he won’t hurt me because our love is stronger than his animal nature” thing? It’s just as much bullshit coming from someone who wants to beat you or cheat on you as it is from someone whose only goal is to eat your face. Fuck. That. Noise. You’re deluded! Grow a spine! Maybe find a man with a day job. Who’s not a junkie. Who can grow old with you. Who doesn’t have a century’s worth of dirt-filled baggage and a strong need to use human people like juice boxes.

I guess I just don’t get it. Maybe I don’t understand romance. Maybe I’m a cranky old lady who’s been with the same guy for half my life. Or, perhaps more interestingly, maybe I’m secretly the kind of racist who doesn’t believe in hypothetical monster-human love. Any of these is possible. I think the real point here is: how much longer can I put off watching Angel? Because I’m pretty sure it’s going to suck. No pun intended.

Hell hath no fury like a woman shorn

Here’s what happened (don’t you love how I preface every rant with a story, and preface the story with “Hey I’m going to tell you a story now,” like you don’t know it’s coming? Fucking hack writer, jeez): I was watching The Big Bang Theory the other week and the first line of dialogue was (from Bernadette, to Amy Farrah Fowler) “We’re so proud of you, Amy. Your first bikini wax.” Now, that got me a little irked, but I was willing to let it go. And the episode continued, and the conversation wandered, and the A story took over. Sitcoms, you know how it goes. It’s pretty much always the same.

But they kept coming back to it. And it just kept bothering me.

First of all, you guys know I like The Big Bang Theory quite a bit. So I’m not saying it wasn’t an alright episode overall. Not one of my favorites, but solidly ok (it was The Parking Spot Escalation, just so you know which one I’m bitching about). A bit more low brow than usual, but whatever. We all have bad days. No, what I’m pissed about is this whole B story interaction between the female characters about their lady bits. And if you’re an adult female and you want to shave or wax or have a full-on marauding gorilla down there, I honestly don’t give a shit. It’s your body, do your thing. I don’t care.

My point is this: since the introduction of Amy Farrah Fowler as a character, she’s been a drooling Penny disciple. And Bernadette, while still being sort of nerdy, is usually more identified with Penny, right? She’s still depicted as “more normal” than Amy. It’s always two against one, with Amy being the weirdo. Having her go with the other girls for a bikini wax, and then using words like “proud of you” about it? That shit pisses me off. Because it’s reinforcing this ideology about what women “should” do. The idea that body hair is gross or unseemly makes me really agro. And I’m making this argument not because I’m one of those militant non-grooming type women (I’m really not, except in the winter when I stop shaving my legs because it’s fucking cold outside and I’ll take free insulation over having to buy long underwear any day), but because the show depicted Amy as being naïve or immature for having not done this procedure yet. Like getting rid of all this hair, which is itself a mark of physical maturity, is the actual milestone of adulthood. It’s peer pressure on a base level and it makes me really mad.

I’ve been avoiding going off on a rant about sex and the depiction of women in the media for quite some time. It’s just such a complicated issue, you know? The sort of thing that people write thick books and PhD dissertations about, not lowly blog posts. But it’s important. And while my mission here may seem like a somewhat shallow examination of trends in pop culture, I think we all, as consumers of that culture, have an obligation to try to understand the underpinnings of it.

An example. Back in the summer, there was a bit of a feminist kerfluffle over this advertisement. (Sorry you have to click on it, I can’t get it to embed the photo.) It’s for an east coast chain of wax/nail/tan shops. But let’s consider the language used here: Freedom, independence, safe, natural, and pleasant. Putting aside the fact that it was for a Fourth of July promotion that the company was having, “freedom” and “independence” are words that are misleading to teenagers. They imply adulthood. And this promotion was a discount for girls under fifteen years old. Now, I know that the times they are a’changing and whatever, but if you’re under fifteen? You probably don’t need to concern yourself with a bikini wax. Because, to put it bluntly, bikini waxes are strictly for the purposes of A) making vaginas prettier, in order to B) increase their fuckability. And to take a little girl into a place like that and tell her it’s normal, that it’s right, that it’s “just what you do,” that’s gross. I hope all the parents who do that to their little girls feel gross. And don’t you dare come crying to me when she gets knocked up at too young an age, because you’re the one who taught her how to sexualize herself when she should’ve been doing little kid stuff instead. Furthermore, the words “safe,” “natural,” and “pleasant”? Waxing is none of these things. It hurts like a motherfucker, so “pleasant” is out. The hair on our genitalia (male and female) is not vestigial; it is there for a very good reason, so getting rid of it is anything but “natural.” Those shops, even the cleanest and most expensive of them, are riddled with germs, fungus, hair, nail trimmings, dead skin pieces, and blood. Actual human blood! Not “safe.” Disgusting. I’m not being a germaphobe here, for real. That shit’s nasty. And if you’re a grownup, fine, whatever, do what you like. But to show our kids this stuff, to advertise directly to them, to tell them that if they don’t do it they’re missing out on something – that’s just sick.

“What does this have to do with that episode of The Big Bang Theory, Vanessa?” Yeah, I know. I actually have a point. The point is that they really do use things like this to show Amy as childish by comparing her Penny. She’s an accomplished doctor of neurobiology (as is Mayim Bialik, the actress who plays Amy – fun fact). She’s successful and self-reliant. But she’s quirky and awkward and, at least at the beginning, desperately lonely. And being the most socially inept character on the show (I think, although it’s arguable that she’s on par with Sheldon) makes her vulnerable. Because, unlike Sheldon, she does want all those “normal” experiences, and is willing to go to great lengths to fit in. She never had friends before, and is going through a sort of delayed adolescence wherein she’s easily manipulated. Meanwhile, while the show’s writers have continuously made her act more and more like Penny and Bernadette, even changing her speech patterns and reactions to situations, they have kept her in the same wardrobe throughout. Now, if any of you were ever tortured teenage girls, answer me this: Don’t you think that if Penny and Bernadette got a hold of Amy in real life, the first fucking thing to go would be the six layers of wool and polyester? But it’s an easy visual trick to set her apart, make her the odd man out, the ugly duckling. That may seem like a small detail, but it’s lazy writing, and a glaring incongruity in the character’s development.

I read a blog recently (and I honestly don’t remember where or I’d post a link to it) about how The Big Bang Theory has changed since the beginning. The writer was saying that at first, the audience was more inclined to identify with the nerdy guys because Penny was the oddball. But as the show has progressed, more and more we’re being fed jokes at those guys’ expense, rather than just having them make jokes that we nerds would get. We’re laughing at them now, and no longer with them. And while I won’t say that I agree that’s true across the board – I mean, Penny’s outnumbered by geniuses by six-to-one now instead of four-to-one – I think that the writers have definitely made Penny the alpha female, if not the outright alpha dog. Obviously, this would probably be the case amongst a real group of friends. It gives them room to make her opinions and actions seem correct to the viewer and to the other characters, her opinions and actions usually being those of mainstream America so as to give the audience someone to relate to. It gives her license to peer pressure them, basically, and to be credible about doing it.

I guess the bigger point that I’m trying to make here is about the idea of “normal” as it applies to the young women of the world. We try to teach them to be strong and self-sufficient, to be independent and successful and happy people. But they’re also learning, just by being exposed to the media, that in order to do that they need to be beautiful and thin and appear sexy to a certain type of man. They’re being taught that they need to tread a very fine line between, on the one hand, smart and talented and hard-working and nice and chaste and, on the other hand, pretty and stupid and bubbly and fun and slutty. That is an impossible combination of factors, people. You can’t do both. You get to pick, possibly mix and match. But don’t try to convince me that you’re both madonna and whore. Don’t tell me you’re smart and independent and then, as soon as an attractive penis comes around, act like you’ve lost all your faculties and are suddenly an imbecile who needs to be taken care of by a big strong man because you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s embarrassing. It’s beneath you. As if young girls don’t have enough problems, right? Let’s not give them a socially sanctioned case of multiple personality disorder on top of all that hormonal adolescent bullshit, hmm? Perhaps, if we teach them how to accept themselves and rely on their strengths, maybe nurture some self-confidence and some sense of trusting their own decisions, they’ll grow up and be pretty ok.

And I know some of you might be thinking that I’m bringing a lot of my own awkward teenage baggage to this conversation. And that might be true, but I will say, in my defense, that that sort of subjectivity is kind of unavoidable. We all speak from experience. And having been picked on and made fun of as a kid I know that it’s hard as hell to be the one who’s different, the one who’s always wearing the wrong clothes or saying the wrong thing. Children are vicious, nasty creatures. They’re terrible to each other. It’s an intrinsic, hierarchical pack mentality thing they’ve got going on. And if all the other little slutty girls are getting bikini waxes, maybe it would make a girl who doesn’t want one think about getting one anyway, and not consider why she wants it or what they’re for. I get it. Peer pressure is a part of growing up. But hopefully we learn, eventually, to not give a shit what other people think and just be who we are. What I’m saying is that if we teach our kids that at a younger age, maybe we won’t end up with a planet full of useless pieces of shit who can’t think for themselves.

Ladies ladies ladies!

I’ve been forcing myself to read reeeeeeally sloooooowly lately. Normally I’d be reading a book every couple of days, but since we’ve moved out into the Twilight Zone of NorCal and the bookstore’s forever away I’ve been forced to chew my food more carefully. It’s torture. Geographically-imposed torture. Anyway, a couple of books ago I read The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin. I heard about it in an interview with Patrick Rothfuss and then, serendipitously, the next time I was in civilization I found a copy so it jumped to the front of the to-read list.

This is the part where I would normally put a disclaimer about how I don’t usually get into books without robots or spaceships, but I’m thinking we’ve covered all that ground already (see post: Long-winded thoughts on nomenclature). Furthermore, in an effort to choose my words more carefully, I’m trying to consciously be less label-y. I’ve been told that this is not one of my strong points. Someone with no social skills also having no tact? Shocker, right? I will at least try to be more expansive in my habitual (obsessive, need-based, frequent, insensitive) categorization of, well, everything. All of which is a (very) roundabout way of saying that this is a fantasy novel which I thoroughly enjoyed, and I rarely read fantasy.

I really, really liked this book. Frankly, I’m hard-pressed to find something to compare it to. (Also, I hate that expression, “hard-pressed.” Feels very Spanish Inquisition.) A few things that I particularly enjoyed:
- It falls into the “weird shit happening to normal people” category. My favorite.
- It tackles the wackiness of organized religion without being didactic or heavy-handed.
- The language doesn’t feel forced like that in a lot of fantasy books does. When she does take the time to explain something to the reader, it blends well, doesn’t take you out of the story at all.
- Super strong female lead character.

The others are fairly self-explanatory so let me just tackle that last one because it’s a point that could bear some emphasis. Fantasy is largely written by men. Science fiction, as well (probably more so, actually). Which is not, in and of itself, remarkable. Most heavy metal is made by men, too. It is what it is. Doesn’t mean women don’t write good fantasy or rock out, they’re just the rarer beast. (On both of those points, since I’ve been living under a rock, if I’ve missed something awesome lately please please please leave me a comment because I like things that are awesome.) The obvious exception here is that weird hybrid stuff that’s flooded the market. It’s like really action-packed scifi/fantasy romance? Some of it’s more romance-novel-feeling than others, but it seems to be pretty much just freaky creatures getting it on with humans, couched in some sort of running-for-our-lives scenario. Those pieces of shit? Mostly written by women. (I really can’t say that. I haven’t read any of those pieces of shit. Why not? Because they’re probably horrible romance novel pieces of shit, and why take the chance?) Thanks for that, Twilight.

Put simply, dudes just write dudes better than they do ladies. And sticking with the laws of math and percentages and all your calculator whatnot, the number of female leads in scifi/fantasy is pretty small due to the proportionally small number of either female writers or male writes who can turn that difficult trick. And mad props to those who can. Follow my logic down this weird and twisty path to the point where I say that it’s a breath of fresh air to find a great female lead who is in no way a stereotype. N.K. Jemisin (have I made it clear that she’s a woman? Those initials-for-first-name people can throw off one’s perception – she’s also got fucking great hair, just FYI) has written a pretty fantastic leading lady here. Yeine. She’s completely out of her element, but not bumbling. She falls in love, but she’s not sappy about it. She kicks ass and takes names and gets to wield some impressively tricksy political power. A well-rounded woman in a book full of characters that could come off as cartoonish one-note jokes (but don’t). They just seem to all be very focused. Single-minded, maybe? Obsessive? I mean, the fucking throne of the family that rules the world and keeps gods chained up for toys is at stake here! (I’m trying to give you enough so you’ll be intrigued but not so much that you’ll feel like you don’t even need to read the book. Is it working?)

Besides having a feminist moment, I liked a lot about this book. The worldbuilding was great. There’s an awesome supernatural element that I quite liked (that whole gods in chains thing? Cool, right?). Also, there’s some royal family relations, political scheming kind of stuff going on, which makes the tone seem rather like a ticking time bomb caper. Love that. Hard to do without being cheesy. So yeah. I enjoyed the shit out of this book. I’m stoked to read the second one. It’s part of a trilogy (The Inheritance Trilogy – no relation), so I guess I should say I’m stoked to read them all. And she’s got another book coming out in May, so keep an eye out. Good stuff.