I promise this post is not actually about Game of Thrones. But I can’t lie, and tell you the season 6 promo trailer wasn’t the final straw for this post. In the season 6 promo, we’re treated to the usual array of quick cut scenes, including one of two unidentifiable women kissing. One of them looks a lot like Sansa (some on Westeros dot org speculating one of the women is Asha/Yara); of course shortly after this realization, I remembered all the awful brothel scenes from earlier seasons, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume it’s something from there. Vomiting forever if both those speculations are correct at the same time. The main thrust is, for a brief moment, I was excited. Sansa! Alive! Maybe her happily ever after with Margery isn’t outside of the realm of possibility. But look at tv this year. It’s a trick.
(The rest of the post contains spoilers for all 3 seasons of the 100, and season 1 of the Shannara Chronicles)
Sorry Not Sorry is a new series of blogs, dedicated to media I enjoy: video games, movies, books, etc. I intend for Sorry Not Sorry to open up a dialogue about the line between being a feminist and doing feminist things. The former doesn’t make everything you do automatically feminist (apologies to Lisa Simpson). The urge to close the gap between the two things is natural, I think, and ties in closely with feminists who feel the momentum of the movement flagging, attempting to flog life into it by expanding the definition of feminism so widely that it’s catching stray insects and the occasional neoliberal in its mouth these days. It has undermined the concept of subversion to the point of ridicule, where certain online circles take things like leg shaving or nail painting or high heels as a subversion of femme expectations, because they’re feminist and they’re not doing it because they have to! The average man on the street isn’t going to know that though, nor even are people you might hail as fellow feminists. It doesn’t mean you can’t do those things. It’s okay to be a feminist and enjoy watching Game of Thrones. You can be a feminist and read the Dresden files. It’s just that it doesn’t make those things feminist. Dig me?
So I open Sorry Not Sorry with Homestuck.
I’m back from Blizzcon and in true con fashion, I came home with a tiny attached guest – the common cold. So I’m sitting in my alliance hoodie with a box of tissue soul-bound to my hand. In spite of the backlog of work emails sitting in my inbox, I’m actually glad for the respite and rest, even if it does involve nails in the back of my throat.
Blizzcon was a whirlwind of 17 hours days, goggling at gorgeous cosplay, being Canadian in an American’s world (“It’s in the bowl over there.” “Bull?” “Bowl.” “Bull??” “No, the bowl. BOWL.”) and awesome panels. But.
(Trigger warning for suicide after the jump.)