Oh yes, get your geek on with this.

It would go so well with my Republicans for Voldemort shirt . . .

That’s the theory posited by this gal, based on the content of the Firefly universe:

I have become increasingly interested in examining Joss Whedon’s work from a feminist perspective since I had a conversation with another lesbian feminist sister at the International Feminist Summit about whether Joss was a feminist. I am really quite shocked by how readily Joss is accepted as a feminist, and that his works are widely considered to be feminist. I decided to start re-watching Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and also to watch Firefly and the movie Serenity.

I have to say that now that I have subjected myself to the horror that is Firefly, I really am beyond worried about how much men hate us, given that this was written by a man who calls himself a feminist.

I find much of Joss Whedon’s work to be heavily influenced by pornography, and pornographic humour. While I would argue that there are some aspects of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer that are feminist and progressive, there is much that isn’t and I find it highly problematic that there are many very woman-hating messages contained within a show that purports itself as feminism. But Firefly takes misogyny to a new level of terrifying. I am really, really worried that women can call the man who made this show a feminist.

For myself, I’m not sure that I will recover from the shock of watching the malicious way in which Joss stripped his female characters of their integrity, the pleasure he seemed to take from showing potentially powerful women bashed, the way he gleefully demonized female power and selfhood and smashed women into little bits, male fists in women’s faces, male voices drowning out our words.

There is so much hatred towards women contained within the scripts and action of the series that I doubt very much that this post will even begin to cover it. . . .

Mind you, she does try. Click through to see the valiant effort. Is this all an elaborate put-on? I know a few third-wave feminist types (Go Smith!), and my guess is that they would only write this way as a goof. But maybe I’m naive.

In any case, Ace of Spades has a funny rejoinder:

This has got to be the stupidest fucking essay ever written in the whole of the ‘Verse. And when I say that, I’m including the Reavers’ poetry.

Of course, we forget what radical feminism looks like at our own peril. Witness the greatest bit of unintentional self-parody ever produced: This piece in Salon about a woman who decides to explore the political results of strapping it on and giving it to her (very questionable) boyfriend. Read it for the hysterical sex talk (the boyfriend wants her to use something called “The Boss”), but stay for the ridiculous cultural musings. Here’s a sample:

With the Boss, I was conquering, silent, responsible, the taker. With his legs spread, Adam was agreeable, inviting, ashamed, taken. I felt closer to him that night than any other time, because we changed in front of each other’s eyes. Parts of ourselves that had been locked away from it engaged in sex for the first time.

The world looks different since then. I was riding up a steep escalator a few weeks after I took Adam’s cherry, idly watching the butts up ahead of me as I usually do — as a pleasing shape. And suddenly a slide clicked over the round female bottom perched above me: Access. Men aren’t just admiring the curve of a butt the way women do; they’re negotiating access. It’s a hill to be taken.

And men do love access. Clubs, fraternities, committees, old-boy networks — they’ve built a world where access is power. They like slit skirts, open-toed shoes, crotchless panties. They like finding a way in. I think the name of the highest-profile condom brand is no accident — the Trojan Horse was the original tool of access!

Which is crazier: That or Whedon as sexist monster? I report, you decide.

I’m sure that Michelle Gass is super-smart, a great wife and mother, and an overall swell human being. That said, this not-intentionally-mean WSJ profile of her suggests to me that she’s probably the most hated woman inside Starbucks, and a prime example of how corporate failure snowballs.

Starbucks is in some trouble. Howard Schultz is back at the helm, and he’s handed off strategic thinking to the 40-year-old Gass. Never mind that Gass is responsible for two of the company’s biggest failures, the “chantico” and their pretty unappetizing breakfast sandwiches. Here’s the WSJ on Gass’s corporate culture paradigm shifting dribble:

At Starbucks’s Seattle headquarters, Ms. Gass converted a conference space down the hall from Mr. Schultz’s office into what she dubbed the “transformation room,” where she huddles with other executives to hash out the new plans. Ms. Gass had the room painted red and purple with the hope it would help create an atmosphere of action.

“I’m not a traditionally trained strategist,” says Ms. Gass, the company’s senior vice president, global strategy, office of the CEO. “I’ve never worked at McKinsey or Bain.”

It’s like something out of those IBM ads.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ziOG_GHNVq0&hl=en]

Isn’t this the type of promotion that drives the hive crazy and sends employees running for the exits?

Still smarting from Vandy’s first-round exit, Pitt’s loss, and G-town’s monumental collapse (perhaps, VLM, the apple does not fall far from the tree, n’est-ce pas?) I was buoyed by Galley Friend M.G. sending along this clip from Letterman with the BSG cast doing a Top 10 list. You’ll notice that some cast members sell their lines a lot better than others.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YatjlSJNRHM&hl=en]

Kudos to Sackhoff, Hogan, and Douglas.

NCAA side note: Pre-tourney, Bob Knight kept nattering on and on about how Pitt was his pick to win it all. I like Pitt a bunch, had them in my Final Four. But it seemed to me a classic example of last in-first out from Knight and made me wonder about his basketball genius. Even more so after they got bounced by Mich State. Is Izzo the most dangerous tournament coach around these days? I say yes. He’s what Calhoun and Boeheim were in their primes.

I’d point all writers (or those interested in writing) to this very smart Jane Espenson post about subverting audience expectations:

… Sometimes, I see good writers make fun of bad, obvious dialog and cliche. Saw a bit on Steven Moffat’s JEKYLL, ep. 3. A bunch of suits and techies watching the usual assortment of screens tracking Dr. Jackman:

Shot of a dot moving along a drawing of a railroad track.

Technie: He’s moving.
American agent: Of course he’s moving! He’s on a train!

We don’t really need “He’s moving” to tell us that he’s moving, unless we’re washing the dishes and listening to the TV out of one ear, or we are very, very stupid. The American agent makes that point for us.

But wait, there’s the retort:

Technie: He’s moving.
American agent: Of course he’s moving! He’s on a train.
English agent: You obviously haven’t got the hang of England yet, have you?

Joss does this a lot, I think, subverting our TV viewer expectations:

Buffy: Puppets give me the wiggins. Ever since I was 8.
Willow: What happened?
Buffy: I saw a puppet. It gave me the wiggins. There really isn’t a story there.

I bet that sort of retort comes up a lot in story rooms; I wonder how often it makes it to the screen. (Network exec: “But how does the audience know he’s moving?”)

The above isn’t from Espenson, but from a friend of hers. She then digs a little deeper, hitting on what’s probably the best writing moment in the entire Star Wars saga. (A cookie for you if you can guess what it is before following the link.)

Espenson is talking about screenwriting, but I think it’s equally valid for prose.

Sigh. Sure, you can try to harden your heart to it and all. And it will almost certainly be awful. But O.S. has a couple pics of Snake Eyes from the G.I. Joe movie. And he looks kind of awesome.

Galley Reader C.L. notes that the self-parodic Andrew Sullivan (did you know he was in a Gap ad once!) has ascended to new heights of self-parody and suggests a fun game:

Trying to get Andrew Sullivan to publish your most over-the-top email about the greatness that is Obama. If I weren’t swamped with work, I would be all over this. Here’s a quick attempt:

“It seems improbable–dare I say providential?–that of all times, it is during Holy Week that Obama has reached out to heal our nation’s soul. No, he cannot redeem us by himself. But he can be a vehicle of that redemption, an agent of restoration. Through him, America’s original sin can at long last be overcome, and the better angels of our nature, restored. Yes, he can. Yes, we can. Yes, we can.”

This shit is shockingly easy to write.

Can’t agree with that last part. C.L.’s blurb has a breezy genius to it that’s beyond my poor powers.

I imagine that getting Sullivan to run your email would make one feel like John Candy in Splash after Penthouse finally publishes one of his letters.

But if you don’t want to actually tug on Sullivan’s chain (so to speak), I’d suggest another fun game:

Before an Obama event takes place, write a short paragraph praising Obama’s performance in the most over-the-top manner possible. Then, after Obama does his thing, pluck a graph from Sullivan’s (or some other apologist’s) “analysis” and email them to friends, daring them to guess which is real and which is Memorex.

So no one gets the idea that this is a partisan thing, I’ll cop to doing this from time to time with friends concerning Mitt Romney and certain of his more, um, enthusiastic supporters during the earlier portion of the primary season.

And you’ll really need to thank Galley Friend C.L., who has found every episode of Arrested Development online, for free.

That’s right. Say goodbye to these!