![]() ![]() ![]() Kurt offers to fix the place up in anticipation of their step-brotherhood, resulting in a Casbah-themed re-dec that looks like something the Chechen Molly Ringwald would have done to her bedroom if Pretty in Pink was some sort of plea for Muslim essentialism. Kurt is Faggy: The whole situation between Kurt and Finn finally comes to a head (ugh) when Finn’s mom, Rosie O’Donnell, decides to shack up with Big Burt, and her hunky/clunky son has to move into our favorite sissy’s subterranean lair. (I get like that when I’m high sometimes for fear I’ll say something fucking idiotic-though I never do!) Anyway, Tina wears itchy Gaga Bubbles for the rest of the episode, then, in the end, refuses to learn the lesson I want to teach her, and goes back to her bad hair and eyeliner and not-pot-smoking. Can someone please put out a casting call for the stoner kid, or just go around to the back of the school by the dumpster, and tap on his or her drug-rugged shoulder and invite him or her into the Glee room? Maybe Mike Chang is a secret cheeboid, and that’s why he never talks. This gets me thinking: that’s what this show needs, a fucking high-on. (I hope someone shouts, "Suicide!") Instead, she ends up wearing a hoodie, which makes her look like a burner. (Talk about “Being and Nothingness.”) As a result Tina stoops to the level of desperate comedian, and starts taking suggestions from the crowd as to what her new personality should be. Number 2) is not a good sign, as I find bloodsuckers to be a fatuous, tedious, and cliched metaphorical template. 1) Goth is not a personality, it’s the last desperate hope of people without a personality and 2) I wish Tina were a real vampire. Tina is a Vampire: Principal Figgins sends down a Goth Embargo, the sole victim of which is Tina. (King me!) This isn’t to say there weren’t good story lines, or that the overall thematic concept-I Just Gotta’ Be Meeeee!-didn’t somehow fit with the musical choices. Leave it to the unequivocally erratic writers at Glee to make a show that features the thrilling habiliments of both Gaga and Kiss contain all the narrative excitement of Checkers Night at the Vero Beach Senior Center. The problem is, like adolescents in general, this week’s show concentrated too much on the costume and not enough on the content. They should actually just put an ugly sweater and some oil-slicked Louisiana sea grass on one of these music stands, and let it teach the class.) But, as someone who wore combat boots, thrift store tuxedos, skinny leather ties, expired ammunition belts, and a Flock-of-Seagulls-meets-Boxwood-Hedge-Trimmed-By-A-Hyperopic-Epileptic haircut throughout high school (and who is hardly a shrinking violet now) freakiness is a sentiment I feel obliged to get behind. (Seriously, I feel more emotionally connected to the music stands in the choir room than I do Mr. I was half right.This week was all about Will encouraging the kids to Super Freak it, which is either very interesting or extremely boring coming from someone as extremely boring as him. So when I heard Glee was going to be doing a Gaga-themed show, I prepared (medicated) myself for an evening that would combine the senseless storyline mosaic of the Madonna episode with prodigious amounts of candy-colored latex, clear latex, and fuchsia eye shadow. Bad Oh-Mantz.” The little bitch loves Gaga, which seems to me a perfect demonstration of the music’s (and singer’s) simplicity and stickiness. “One, two, three, four,” she’d count, “La-la. Then, last week, while I was visiting my sister and her kids in Florida, my two-year-old niece revealed an obsessession with pulling up a certain YouTube video on her mother’s computer. “She’s no Dee-Lite,” I said, and let the subject drop. with a pair of filmmaker gays and pair of academic lesbians, and when I expressed my disdain for Lady Gaga, they all jumped on me, the guys supporting her weirdness, the ladies calling out her ability to reference the history of performance art from John Cage to Leigh Bowery. ![]()
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