Belle choses
Riot Act by 
thuviaptarth is a character study of T:SCC’s Riley. It cuts at you with her fracturedness while also celebrating her courage and capacity for life. God, I miss that show. It ended so well I was almost happy about the cancellation at first but that feeling has passed and now it’s just gone. In its place we have Dollhouse. Which is very different.
For values of good that don’t include good for you, good pulp fiction is seductive. The plot twists through implausibility after implausibility with madcap ingenuity, reveling in its flat but vivid characters who don’t pull punches and hammer their themes home with a croquet mallet. It all slips down so easily, the perfect blend of E numbers and empty calories to keep you wanting just a little more both for the feelgood and to stave off the inevitable comedown.
I mean naming an episode about a gender queer (hinted at), misogynistic (underlined in red lipstick) serial killer “Cunt” (in so many words). What’s that even about? Speaking of gender queer, of course a man thinking he’s a woman is the most hilarious thing ever. Except that what he though he was was actually another man’s idea of a woman (as if Xander had been possessed by the Buffybot) so does that make it all right to have laughed? This was angrily cynical pulp, biting the hand feeding it by taking pot shots at Hollywood and making no excuses for its premise as it gleefully cut between Terry the serial killer and Professor Creepy (I guess the Dollhouse brought out a diffusion line). On the other hand letting the victims hit back but enjoying blooding Echo with a serial killer residue that could never come out in the wash a little too much? The enemy of your enemies isn’t always your friend.
thuviaptarth is a character study of T:SCC’s Riley. It cuts at you with her fracturedness while also celebrating her courage and capacity for life. God, I miss that show. It ended so well I was almost happy about the cancellation at first but that feeling has passed and now it’s just gone. In its place we have Dollhouse. Which is very different.
For values of good that don’t include good for you, good pulp fiction is seductive. The plot twists through implausibility after implausibility with madcap ingenuity, reveling in its flat but vivid characters who don’t pull punches and hammer their themes home with a croquet mallet. It all slips down so easily, the perfect blend of E numbers and empty calories to keep you wanting just a little more both for the feelgood and to stave off the inevitable comedown.
I mean naming an episode about a gender queer (hinted at), misogynistic (underlined in red lipstick) serial killer “Cunt” (in so many words). What’s that even about? Speaking of gender queer, of course a man thinking he’s a woman is the most hilarious thing ever. Except that what he though he was was actually another man’s idea of a woman (as if Xander had been possessed by the Buffybot) so does that make it all right to have laughed? This was angrily cynical pulp, biting the hand feeding it by taking pot shots at Hollywood and making no excuses for its premise as it gleefully cut between Terry the serial killer and Professor Creepy (I guess the Dollhouse brought out a diffusion line). On the other hand letting the victims hit back but enjoying blooding Echo with a serial killer residue that could never come out in the wash a little too much? The enemy of your enemies isn’t always your friend.