Sunday, November 21, 2010

Do the Timewarp

The media's working really hard to make everyone care about Prince William and Kate Middleton getting engaged. I don't really know how many people actual care, but I get it. Yeah, they're the biggest welfare case in the world, but they're young, attractive and everybody loves a wedding. Will and Kate also seem sort of endearingly normal, so I can't hate on that. But it's more than that...Kate's going to be a princess, you guys. Who gets to be a princess anymore?

I don't even think this is about some kind of collective Disney princess complex; I think it's just because it's such a throwback, and that's kind of romantic. I'm not
one of those people like Sarah Palin or Paula Deen who pines for a past that never actually existed. I think vaccines are awesome and I like voting and I'm pretty attached to modern oral hygiene. I indoor plumbing and hot showers and that I'm allowed to go to college. But I get it. Sometimes, I'm working on a paper on my Macbook and texting and watching Hulu when I'm taking a study break I just wish for something a little...sexier. Cooler. Badass-er. For instance:



1960s Madison Avenue

Pros: Drinking at work! Smoking at work! Sex at work! Men in suits! Casual racism! Oh, wait.

Cons: Ladies get jack-squat on the career front unless they're Peggy Olson. The Cuban missile crisis. Things really only get less glamorous from here on out. Girdles.



Hanging with the Impressionists

Pros: Those guys knew how to party, were total romantics and would take you on naked picnics.

Cons: They also might take you to the Moulin Rouge...which might have been okay in real life but that movie is seriously just Glee on a lot of absinthe. Also, syphilis.


The Roaring 20s

Pros: Everyone knew how to dance, the clothes were awesome, nobody realized the next twenty years were going to be terrible. Girls with no boobs were en vogue.
I could learn to make gin in the bathtub.

Cons: Shellshock, jazz. And by the way, Boardwalk Empire sucks. Stop telling me to watch it.






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