Trashing Television (Jk I love you)

I hate to say that watching TV is one of my favourite pastimes, yet it is. Honestly, the last thing I want after I get home from one of my ten hour days on campus is to do something that requires a lot of energy and/or brain power. I wouldn’t say I watch a lot of TV, but I do have about 4-5 shows that I am very passionate about.

And I’m currently angry with all of them right now.

I think a lot of my problems stem from the fact that I watch all these shows with a critical eye – it’s what I’ve been trained to do through my program. Last term, I took a course specifically on the series, Mad Men. This term, I’m taking a course that studies women in popular culture. So yeah, I know what to look for to make myself angry at the patriarchal and heteronormative society that we live in.

As much as I love TV, I’ve never wanted to do a blog where I review shows. I just don’t. I’m not interested in summarizing plots, and frankly, I don’t think anyone wants to hear my opinions on certain TV shows. But I need to vent, just this once.

Like a lot of young adults, I watch quite a bit of trash television. It’s great to indulge in every once in a while, and usually I don’t take it too seriously, but these shows are irking me today. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve heard of the new CW/Netflix drama, Riverdale. As a huge fan of both the Archie comics and Cole Sprouse, I had to watch it. Now, I’m not one of those fans who’s OTP is Betty and Veronica. They don’t date in the comic books, and I’m okay with them not dating on the show. What I can’t stand, however, is that Jughead is canonically asexual and yet they are not heading in that direction on the show.

(Also where does he live? I really do not care about any other mystery on this show.)

It would literally take no extra effort with the show’s creators. How Jughead has been in the first 5 episodes was enough. I do not need a Jughead who makes a big deal about being asexual. I do not need a Jughead that has a shocking revelation that he’s not straight. I just want Jughead to not date, or kiss, or sleep with anyone on the show.

That’s it. 

Just have one damn character on this trashy teen drama (which I love fyi) not have romantic drama. Because we need better asexual representation in our media. Because we need better anything-but-straight representation in our media. Because we need to maybe let teens know that if they don’t end up dating anyone in high school, that is okay.

Is that so hard?

And now to Hawaii 5-0. I, like many other young adults on Tumblr, am a huge McDanno shipper. They are my OTP. Forever and always. They are played off as an epic bromance, but the network, writers, producers, and other (less accepting) fans do not seem to understand that this is not a bromance anymore. If you replaced either man with a female lead they would be couple endgame. End of story.

I’m not here to get into this debate (because I could do this for days), I’m not even here to bring out the stacks of evidence, quotes, and interviews that all point towards them being a couple. I’m not asking for a huge reveal, or a big “holy shit we’re gay” moment. I’m asking for two characters who are clearly in love to maybe be considered as end game.

I’m also here to say BROMANCE DOES NOT INCLUDE SEXUAL TENSION and that’s where McDanno clearly stops being a strictly platonic friendship.

I’m ranting. I’m angry. I’m subjecting you to read my liberal snowflake opinions and I don’t really care. What does this have to do with being a hot mess, you ask? I don’t fucking know. Maybe I just need to vent. Maybe I’m just whining over TV shows I’m too emotionally invested in.

Or maybe, I want to show you that for every totally put-together, intellectual discussion or debate I have on feminism, the patriarchy, heteronormative society, or analyzing media, there’s a screaming hot mess who just wants change.

And better, more diverse representation.

-Red Hot

Killer Clowns

*Possible Trigger warning for violence and assault. Proceed with caution.*

It’s 2016. Picture it.


Beloved celebrities are dying left, right and center. Trump is elected president. Britain decided to leave the European Union. The Great Barrier Reef is dying.


It feels like hell.


The longest year dragging towards a close. Figurative flames engulf us as we hear chaotic laughs from the devil.


And then there’s the clowns.


My god, the fucking clowns. Speculated to be a movie promotion; rumored to be begging children to follow them into the woods; stories of people being severely injured.


Everyone remembers the clowns. They reached their height right before Halloween, and there were sightings being reported around the world.


“Not all clowns are murderers,” People defended.


“It’s just some teenagers goofing around.”


“You’re perfectly safe.”


Yes. Many of the clowns running around in masks were just people joking around. They wanted reactions. They wanted to instill fear into your hearts, but they weren’t going to do anything. That would be absurd.


Say 9 out of 10 clowns were just that – some teens dressed up as clowns running through the streets when they were bored one Friday night. Cool. Fine. I can deal with that.

But 1 of those 10 is not mentally stable. They have a knife in their back pocket. They don’t just want to scare you, they want to harm you. They get off on it. They have this draw to violence that we don’t understand.

Put these 10 clowns in front of you. 9 are just having fun; 1 wants to kill you. You don’t know who is who.

How do you respond when they start coming up to you? When they want a reaction? Remember, you know that one of them is capable of physical harm.

You put walls up. You learn to protect yourself because you never know which one is the clown that tried to stab you, forcing his knife through your skin even though you’re saying no.

Yes, 9 are just having fun.

Yes, 9 don’t want to hurt you.

Yes, you’re putting your defenses up.

No, the 9 don’t get it. Why are you so worried? We’re just joking.

No, not all clowns.

But one.

And that’s all it takes.


Now, you’re a woman in the street just trying to walk from point A to point B. It doesn’t matter where you’re going or what time of day it is. It doesn’t matter if you’re alone or with friends. It doesn’t matter if you’re drunk, queer, or have a boyfriend.


10 men stand along the stretch of road in front of you.


9 will shout “nice bod/smile/ass!” 9 want to start a conversation.


1 wants something more.


1 doesn’t take no for an answer.


1 knows that he is stronger and bigger than you.


You don’t know which one. It might not even be one of today’s men on the street. But there is one, and you don’t know who it is.


Picture it.


You’re walking down the street, knowing there is one, but not which one. How do you react?


Your guard is up. You spit out harsh words. Your keys are clenched in your fist. You wonder which one it is. You wonder if you’ll make it home safe, or if today will be the day you encounter that killer clown.


Not all men. But one.



-Red Hot