Archive | TV Matters

The Russian Dolls We Carry

I broke up with the Legend–or, really, my relationship with the Legend ended–because he ignored me in front of his ex-wife’s current wife and her infant son. If that sounds complicated, it’s actually a lot more complicated, but the bottom line is he clung to the sense of family that his ex and her clan provided him, and played uncle to her son as well as her sister’s kid. I’d always empathized with his desire to do so. But this meant that he was ignoring me in front of his people, and the sting was profound. It was hardly the first time he’d thrown me under a bus, but I suddenly saw how little he’d ever rally for me, how little I meant to him, and that only one path extended from that moment on my personal timeline.

And that path was Legend-free.

That’s exactly how I saw it. Even as I blew up at him later, even as I railed to friends, even as I masturbated with a violent grief, some part of me already was watching dispassionately from a future I now knew existed. A future in which this man I loved had no place.

That’s how I explained the breakup to people as soon as I was sure it would stick. With concern and maybe a little ennui knitting their features, they’d say, “How are you doing?” And I’d say, “I’m in the future now.”

I knew it was true even though I didn’t yet understand what I was saying. Continue Reading →

Message from the Management: Heart Power

We are gliding into a more matter-of-factly fourth-dimensional, energy-is-matter Age of Aquarius. Think I’m being lofty? Consider the new-fangled electronics you count on that even ten years ago would have been inconceivable. Consider how the pull of digital information is now as real as the pull of “real life.” And consider how speculative fiction and animation now deliver more plausible interpretations of modern life than the navel-gazing, self-important balderdash that conventionally passes as serious fiction and live-action. It all comes down to a new plane in which gravity responds to time like any other object. Our feelings fold chronologies and our passions warp each other’s paths. Continue Reading →

Schlemiel, Schlimazel: Penny Lost

Penny Marshall’s death hits so close to home. Born the same year as my mother, she offered a different model of adult femalehood–screwball funny, radically unpretentious, and trailblazing. A director, a comedian, a Bronx-born broad with gorgeous legs and unfailing creative vision: I still wear an L on my sweater in homage to her Laverne. She was one of my chosen god-mommies though I met her only once, and I’m bereft to learn she’s no longer on our plane. Gen X ladies: We’re really the grownups now.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy