Death and Bureaucracy in Torchwood: Miracle Day

Austin Wren Hansell*

It is said that the two things we can never escape are death and taxes.  But in the latest season of Torchwood death is no longer a factor. One day, no one dies.  No one dies the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after that.  People still get hurt, sick, grow old and weary, but no one dies. No one.  Not the child rapist on death row injected with a cocktail of poisons.  Not the security guard disemboweled and charred in an explosion.  Not the CIA agent impaled through the heart in a traffic accident.  Despite everything, people keep on living, hurting, loving, existing. It is, they say, a Miracle Day.

This Miracle, as you can imagine, causes quite a few problems.  The health care industry must be entirely revamped. People who hate themselves can no longer use death to assuage guilt.  Religion is in crisis, for with no death there can be no afterlife.  And, perhaps most urgent, resources are running out fast.

Torchwood is one of those rare shows not afraid to look directly into the eyes of modern society and tell it exactly where and how badly it is screwing up. Because it is a scifi show, it carries our foibles and fallacies to more logical extremes than a strictly realist show and the social criticism is all the harsher. So, in Torchwood, when death is no longer a factor, life quickly becomes categorized, complete with forms in triplicate and proper (though often illogical) procedures.  Predictably, all hell breaks loose.

The child rapist and killer Oswald Danes, no longer on death row, argues that his sentence was commuted and thus he is now a free man.  He has a natural talent for manipulation and quickly becomes a figurehead in the PR wars over the Miracle.  Danes shifts his image from infamous parolee to media darling by fighting for the rights of those who should be dead, or as they are soon to be known, Category Ones.  The Cat Ones have no voice of their own, as by definition they are unresponsive. The government plan for dealing with them is holocaustic, and while Torchwood fights from the shadows, Danes preaches on the national media circuit.

Danes also takes on the unwanted job of champion for the Category Twos, those who are stuck somewhere between life and death, the sick and injured who are being ignored by the system for lack of supplies, manpower, and money. They are ignored because hey, it isn’t like they are going to die while we are busy figuring out what to do, and they are miserable – dysentery, infections, pain all run rampant in the overflow wards. Danes has a lot of powerful help and money behind his vault to fame as he attempts to manipulate the situation for his own increasingly disturbing ends.

Bill Pullman is captivating in this role, with enough of his leading man charisma oozing through his repulsive character to draw you in – and make you hate yourself for continuing to be fascinated. Who knew Captain Lone Starr and President Whitman could be so creepy?

At his side is his PR rep, Jilly Kitzinger (Lauren Ambrose), yearning desperately for her scrap of power.  Kitzinger works immensely hard for this man she loathes simply because the right people are noticing her efforts.  And the right people, inevitably, are not government workers but corporations. Pharmaceutical companies, family businesses (in the mafia sense of the word), and shadowy networked corporations working invisibly behind the government. Kitzinger’s sheer determination will ensure her employers reach the pinnacle because it means she too will get a taste of the prize.

(SPOILER) When Danes’ ugly nature can no longer be controlled in the most recent episode, she prepares to fight back with a means far worse than the law: by calling a press conference. In the post-Miracle world, much as in our own death-riddled society, a press conference can mean a fate much worse than an arrest. Justice has moved from a blind court to blind bureaucracy. But bureaucracy is blind to human needs, suffering, and all those exceptions to the rules that individuals require, and this is terrifying. Just look at the ovens they plan on using for the Cat Ones and Zeros!

Ambrose is so very good in this role – sweet, lovely, feminine in appearance, but with a hard and fast cutthroat need for power.  Kitzinger’s girlish glee in success wins you over, but only until you remember you are cheering for the woman representing a child predator and an increasingly villainous bureaucracy.

In Torchwood: Miracle Day, death is no longer an option, so bureaucracy – the next best thing to taxes – steps in to try to control the chaos of the Miracle.  Death, the great equalizer, got rid of the best and the worst, all in good time.  But now, the good can go on fighting forever, but so can the bad, the awful, and the very worst. So much contemporary scifi postulates that bureaucracy, public relations, and corporations are our most conceivable future, but this is especially horrifying when coupled with a world suddenly without death.  The impersonal nature of bureaucracy can’t have sympathy. Numbers, spreadsheets, and bottom lines are all that truly matter and it is the job of people like Miss Kitzinger to appease, however superficially, the individuals lost in the paperwork of the masses. Torchwood: Miracle Day is terrifying, captivating, and so utterly watchable. Go set the DVR!

*Hi!  I’m a new contributor and I am pumped to be in such excellent company. I think you’ll quickly become aware that I am a huge nerd and hope to be your companion in scifi and geekery.

Gender, Sexuality, and Coming-of-Age in ABC Family’s “Huge”

Sarah Todd

ABC Family’s short-lived, much-loved teen drama Huge gets camp right. Watching the show, you can practically smell the rough-hewn pine cabins and feel the rising moisture from freshly washed cafeteria dishes on your skin. The difference between camp time and regular time comes flooding back: one camp afternoon was equal to eight or so off-season ones. You may remember waiting in line to call home and pick up care packages from your parents (socks and Kleenex and stuffed animals), how friendships forged in the fires of camp shone with devotion after just a few days, how camp crushes were always big and sweet and extra-heartbreaking. In a major coup for camp-accuracy, Huge even includes a clogged toilet in the boy’s cabin that everyone kind of surreptitiously pretends isn’t happening.

But the real secret to the show’s authentic feel is the way that it quietly and respectfully explores the complex emotions of its teenage characters. Huge is all about change. Most, though not all, campers are at the wellness camp at least in part to lose weight—but the show is really about kids going through less visible, deeper transformations.

Like most adolescents, Wil, Becca, Ian, Amber, Chloe, Alistair, Trent, Piz, and company are struggling to figure out who they are and who they want to be. Camp provides them with a place to try on new identities or affirm old ones. Often, they surprise themselves. Wil, the fighter and proud feminist who initially planned to wage war against all camp activities, discovers that she actually likes basketball. Trent, the good-hearted jock, longs to be in a band, and befriends bunkmates he might never have acknowledged in high school hallways. Chloe climbs the social ladder by leaving her frizzy-haired, giggly old self—and her former BFF Becca—behind.

Huge conveys these changes not with dramatic speeches or blowout fights, but through small, carefully observed moments. The camera lingers on a character’s face after her friends walk away, or follows an exchange of gazes without tacking on an explanation. Huge isn’t afraid to leave characters and scenes open to interpretation, and it extends that approach to its complex depictions of teenagers exploring gender roles and sexual orientations.

VMAs 2011, or More Questions than Answers

Chelsea Bullock

The title says almost everything, but here’s the rest:

1. I didn’t actually watch the VMAs live. I followed the relevant Twitter and Facebook feeds and then watched all videos I was interested in today via mtv.com* and YouTube.

2. Beyonce sang her face off. I think her performance, while completely uncontroversial, is still enabling continued discussions of the public nature of the pregnant body. Also, are you as excited as I am about the potential awesomeness of Bey and Hova’s progeny? I hope so.

3. I have professed my adoration of Gaga since the beginning, but had been experiencing a bit of a lull in my affection. Jo Calderone‘s appearance and performance rekindled our flame. The monologue is a bit long, but totally worth it for anyone considering herself a little monster. He’s making Judith Butler proud.

4. Thanks to the fine folks over at Crunk Feminist Collective for their discussion of Chris Brown’s performance and for alerting me–the non-live viewer–to the fact that Jay-Z refused to demonstrate support for him.

5. Britney was honored, and rightfully so, but bless her for making the whole ceremony a bit more delightful by not even attempting to hide her confusion over Jo Calderone.

I’m curious to know: who watched, what your thoughts are, exactly how wrong is it that Katy Perry won over Adele, how long we have to punish Chris Brown, if you were disappointed by the Hunger Games trailer too, if you love Snooki as much as me, how attracted you are to Jo, and if you also thought Hova and Yeezy’s performance of “Otis” was a 9 out of 10.

*MTV, thank you for leading the way and making the entire show available online for free.

Update: Patti Stanger is “Toxic” on Drop Dead Diva

Phoebe Bronstein

Last night I turned on the television (okay so actually it was the DVR, as I watched Leverage pre Drop Dead Diva) and lo and behold there was Patti Stanger on one of my favorite shows, Drop Dead Diva. Given that last week I wrote about Patti and her matchmaking for millionaires and that I have also recently written on Drop Dead Diva (DDD), I thought an update was in order after I watched my TV worlds collide.

Patti Stanger as Marcie on Drop Dead Diva

On DDD there have been a parade of famous female guests, from Rosie O’Donnell and Paula Abdul in Season 1, to Wanda Sykes in Season 2, and last week Kathy Griffin (which was hilarious). Thus, I suppose Patti’s appearance should not come as such a shock to the system, but for some reason (to be fleshed out shortly) it did. On DDD last night’s “Toxic” episode, Patti played Marcie LaRose, a rather snarky mean girl and Terri’s (Margaret Cho) high school and present day nemesis. Marcie is very much a Patti Stanger type character and we meet her as she asserts to a crowd of single ladies that women should not just give it away. Otherwise, you’ll never get married or so she says.

The major action comes in the midst of Marcie’s lunchtime talk (which Terri’s mother has insisted she and Jane (Brooke Elliot) attend), when Terri and Jane get in a bit of a verbal brawl. Marcie shouts at Terri, Jane defends Terri, Marcie sues Terri for “defamation, per se.” That is, Marcie sues her for slandering her chastity, a suit Marcie ultimately loses at the hands of Kim, Jane’s rival and another firm attorney.

For me the most interesting thing about this episode is that for a show like Drop Dead Diva that most certainly passes the Bechdel Test, and is also, on its best days, about smart, capable, and driven women, Patti Stanger seems an odd fit. So in a show where episodes rarely seem off, this one did and I think it was because of Patti Stanger’s ethic does not quite fit on DDD. For example, Patti is all about women losing weight to get the guy (as indicated by her recent break-up and subsequent weight loss), where DDD seems definitively anti-this line of thought. Instead DDD insists on many different kinds of beauty and that there is no one size fits all way of looking or model for dating. So as the script tried to make fun of Marcie (Patti Stanger) and did paint her as unsympathetic (for example, she ultimately loses her lawsuit against Terri), it also seemed to tread lightly around her.

Patti Stanger on DDD seemed to me like putting a square peg into a round hole: awkward, forceful, and mostly strange. If the show made too much fun of Marcie/Patti and their requisite but similar businesses, then DDD might risk offending the real Millionaire Matchmaker. But if DDD didn’t present some problem with her character on the show, then DDD would have also have felt even odd. So the show toed the middle line and it was weird.

However, the name of the episode is “Toxic,” which at once refers to a case involving toxic dirt and a school (the other storyline from last night), so could be read as having nothing to do with Patti Stanger. But here is where I think the show is quite smart: I choose to read the episode’s title as reflecting the show’s take on Patti (perhaps I’m projecting a little bit). By pairing a toxic dirt story-line and the danger it poses to a group of people, with a story-line about Patti Stanger as a mean girl signals to me a parallel between the two. Thus, the saving grace of last night’s episode and my take away from “Toxic,” is that the show subtly signals that Patti and her dating philosophies are indeed toxic and harmful, just like the bad toxic dirt.

Interlude: BIG SEXY

Chelsea H.

I must confess, I haven’t seen this show yet.  In fact, no one has, because it doesn’t premiere until Tuesday.  I’ve only seen promos.  But I want to think about the messages this promo conveys, because I am both in support of and resistant to its potential impact.

What I like: These women love their bodies!  They have learned to resist, or ignore, or laugh at, the judgments American society makes about larger bodies, especially for women.  They, I would bet, would laugh just as hard at the idea of low-calorie brownies as I did in my last post.  They consider themselves beautiful and sexy and worthy of fulfilling relationships, or just flings, and that is wonderful.  Good for them for loving themselves and having a strong support group to hang with.  Their lives look like a lot of fun, and I think their decision to take on the problematic, thin-obsessed fashion industry in New York is a brave, and needed, attempt.

What I don’t like: I want to say this cautiously, because my intention is not to offend.  I don’t think judgment based on body size is good, I don’t believe in cookie-cutter shapes, and “normative” is a word that shouldn’t even exist because pretty much no one is.  However, I can’t avoid, and nor should anyone watching, that this is a reality show, and therefore these women are on display.  Maybe they want to be – maybe part of their aim is to bring attention through showing themselves – but there is the same kind of potential for objectification that occurs with every reality show: they are on TV, being watched and judged by people who they can’t see, can’t know, can’t respond to, and probably can’t even imagine. What does that do to the message they are sending?  Does it glamorize their lifestyle, and does it do that in a healthy or unhealthy way?  Does it make them desirable and admirable, or does it make them products of voyeurism?  I can’t decide.  Judging only from the promo, there seems to be a equal promise of girl-power, body-image-busting positivity, but I wonder: is that too good to be true?

So the question is, and I put it to you gals: is this a promise of empowerment, or is it just a new direction of objectified sexuality?  Is Big Sexy positive or not?  Would you watch it?  Why?  Why not?

PLL Roundtable, Season 2 Episode 11: “I Must Confess”

In this recap, Phoebe, Melissa, and Sarah develop a theory of barns, a theory of Hastings conspiracies, and a theory of dry-cleaning in Rosewood.

The Case of the Missing Therapist and the Downcast Mike

Phoebe: SO is the therapist dead?

that was so scary!

Also, why couldn’t she tell them who A was on the phone? Had she forgotten her office was bugged?

Sarah: I think she is dead, but another scary possibility that occured to me is what if she shows up in the next episode having been threatened/brainwashed by A and pretending like none of this ever happened?

Melissa: Sarah, that is scary. Because, yes, I think she’s either dead or kidnapped…and if kidnapped, she could be made to become part of A. Maybe that’s how A became multi-person; people were slowly blackmailed into joining a conglomerate force of evil.

Phoebe: I also thought maybe she could be buried alive? As isn’t that what happened to Alison? Or I thought maybe the girls would be rushing to save her in the season finale? OR the preview mentioned someone was likely dead so it could be her

Sarah: Huh that’s an interesting theory Melissa! Maybe that’s what the dolls in the box thing is about—like maybe the reason they’re going along with it is to try to save Anne.

Melissa: That doll thing is especially creepy, given that Jason just gave Aria that box with Alison’s old creepy doll

Phoebe: Oh yeah! And also, speaking of Aria her family prepared food AGAIN but did not eat

Melissa: I KNOW! I think I yelled something about it at the time. “See? Dinner again!?!?”

Phoebe: Why don’t they like to eat?!

Sarah: I’m glad Mikey is ready to get some help

Melissa: Yes, me too. I feel sad for him.

Phoebe: Me too!

Melissa: But I really want him to be on the case too, not just depressed. I don’t think his depression just happened to lead him to breaking into houses associated with A.

Phoebe: I don’t buy the depression/house breaking angle either. I feel like that family had a major breakthrough this week

Sarah: Yeah, but I don’t understand why Ella felt the need to hide the computer-wrist story from the dad

Phoebe: I think because she doesn’t want her son medicated/confused with Byron’s brother

Melissa: It also seems to be part of this larger concern about lying as a coping mechanism. We’re seeing that the girls all learned this lying behavior from their parents.

Under Any Sun at All: On Fancies of Finding Yourself

Last night, I popped in Under the Tuscan Sun, because I wanted a dose of sunflowers and yellow colors and Italian charm.  Also, while I may only be in my late-twenties and have never been divorced, I have lately found the idea of films about older women rediscovering their autonomous lives compelling.  I say the idea of such films because…well, frankly, I often feel more inspired by watching the trailer than I do the entire film; what we’re promised is self-discovery, but what we often get are recycled cliches mixed into travelogues.  Take the recent Eat, Pray, Love.  Remember the awesome trailers with Florence and the Machine’s “Dog Days of Summer” and pictures of a somewhat wan Julia Roberts fighting to find herself, not just a reflection of herself in a relationship?

There are a lot of really great lines in that trailer, but they’re pretty much the greatest lines of the film – the insistence on needing to find a self outside of a series of relationships; the encouragement to open the mind and become more receptive to the world.  A similar formula clearly guides Under the Tuscan Sun.   Recently ended relationship + middle life –> exotic adventure –> DISCOVERY OF TRUER SELF FULL OF HAPPINESS!

I really love this movie, for a number of random reasons – the wry humor that disarms potentially cheesy moments; Sandra Oh; did I mention yellow colors?  But watching the film last night, I was also troubled.  One thing I could definitely talk about (but that I’m sure has been dissected to death) is that the women can’t help falling in love – they go out to “find themselves” – Julia Roberts’s character Liz even explicitly explains that she needs to escape the string of relationships she’s been in since 15 – but for women, “finding yourself” inevitably means getting rid of whatever blocked you from being in a happy relationship before and then falling in love.  Don’t get me wrong – I like love – I like like love, you know?  But I also think it’s troubling that the only way we can imagine women being happy – in Tuscany!  Or Bali!  Or all these amazing places! – is if they just modify the old pattern.  Keep having lovers, just take better lovers and in better places.  What I really want to talk about today is that second bit – place, or, more specifically, the relationship between women’s selves and place as figured in these middle-aged-self-quest stories.

So, big reveal, I am not primarily a scholar of gender or race, nor am I a scholar of film, new media, television, or pop culture.  I am actually a 19th century Americanist with a focus on environmental literature, and today I’m hoping to bring my ecocritical training to the table to talk about place and identity.  Because (here’s the not-so-hidden-thesis) I don’t buy the way that these films ultimately suggest that finding yourself requires you to go on a very specific kind of international adventure – to “romantic” Tuscany, to places where “you can marvel at something” – in order to escape the confines of your past self.  Under the Tuscan Sun thinks about relationships and gender in occasionally provocative ways, but it never questions the central notion that finding yourself means running in the form of sight-seeing.

Goodbye Patti Stanger & the Millionaire’s Club, I’m Not Sure I’ll Miss You

Phoebe Bronstein

Recently, I have been watching a little too much Millionaire Matchmaker. I was not sure there that there was such a thing, but now I firmly believe there might be. My reason for watching in the first place is that the show makes me feel better about myself. It is sort of like watching a bad car crash, where you know you shouldn’t look but you can’t turn away. Seriously, the people who come to Patti, the Matchmaker Maven with what seems to be a poorly calculatedly success rate are oft quite crazy (so she says she is in the 90% success rate, and I beg to differ). However, more recently I have realized it might be time to turn away, and here’s why: watching Patti Stanger is like watching a feminist back peddling bicycle crash over and over again. And that stops being fun at some point.

Patti is a modern day New Jersey yenta and matchmaker to millionaires, and she asserts herself often by throwing around little smatterings of Yiddish here and there. For example, in a recent episode she found a nice millionaire Jewish boy a young shiksa (ie a gentile woman), despite his expressed desires to date a Jewish girl. Don’t get me wrong, I do love a little Yiddish with my television, but her use of it oddly irks me. Perhaps it is because it feels like she is trying to channel the Fiddler on the Roof matchmaker, and seriously Patti’s got nothing on her. Or maybe it is just because she plays to and reinforces the Jewish princess stereotype a little too much for my comfort. But, moving on.

But not only does she mobilize Jewish stereotypes in her performance of Patti, she also is just plain sexist. On Millionaire Matchmaker, despite being a powerful and successful woman herself, she asserts that women must perform highly gendered and stereotypical roles in order to win a mate. We even see her philosophies written onto her own body; for example, recently separated from her fiancé, she is now back on the market after what looks like some serious dieting and a little itty bit of plastic surgery (I think something was lifted). She’ll be the first to tell you that if you want to date a millionaire or anyone I imagine, per Patti’s rules, you must be hot, in shape (ie skinny), educated, and all that jazz. As it turns out, she holds men up to similar standards but she is much more likely to critique a woman’s body or wardrobe (although most of the dates she finds are in fact women for millionaire men).

Patti before weight loss (on the left) and after (on the right)

But for Patti it isn’t all about the body, it is also about maintaining 1950s gender roles and norms. Thus, among her precepts are men must pay for and plan the date. If the woman tries to take control of the date or the planning, she is scolded and sometimes kicked out of Patti’s club (aside: people getting kicked out might be the best of part of the show). It is in Patti’s book, a capital offense for a woman to plan and therefore not let a man be a man. Hey gents, did you know that manliness is defined by your date planning abilities? If we ladies do it, then our relationship is most certainly over before it has even begun. Or at least, that seems to be what Patti is suggesting. When discussing men in the dating world, Patti recommends they become hunters and fishers, which I think winds up making the ladies prey. Problem. So ladies, no planning for you, instead dawn your favorite demure outfit and makeup and wait, and wait, and then wait some more.

These strange, old, and seemingly anti-feminist notions also function along heterosexual lines. That is, every relationship for Patti is seemingly framed as hetero one. And while Patti matches men with men, it seems that she has yet to match two women and often says crazy things about both gay men and lesbians. For more on this topic, check out these two links which detail Patti’s downright discrimination and ignorance: this one and this one.

Perhaps one of the strangest parts of the show is that she backs these crazy theories about women, men, sex, romance, etc. with fake science. For example, she often talks about the chemicals that overwhelm your brain during love or sex and throws out numbers and things like cerebral cortex. However, I feel quite certain, despite not being a chemistry or biology major (okay so I was an English major), that she is wrong and does not make any sense. Any doctors out there, that can confirm?

All that said and done, Patti does have a few pieces of good advice. For example, she doesn’t let her clients drink more than two drinks on any given date (or they can share a bottle of wine) and they are told not to mix and mingle their alcohols. Not bad advice, if I do say so myself. Another seemingly decent rule for dating, per Patti, is no sex without monogamy. Fair enough. It sounds like something my mother once said, plus it is also safe, so that’s good. However, sometimes she points in her mouth when she says this stuff, which makes the advice less great and more awkward. But that about covers the good advice, and seemingly might be advice one gets from their friends, parents, or therapist, rather than needing to pay Patti Stanger for it.

When I only watched one episode every now and then these egregious issues were not always so apparent. However, due to recent overexposure I think the fun and allure of Millionaire Matchmaker has gone. I am tired of watching while dating is reduced to a formula that says I should be submissive and happy about it. Goodbye Patti and your millionaires, I can’t say yet whether I will miss you or not. For now, I think I shall fill my reality TV quota with some Kardashian ladies and some Housewives. But, I shall leave you with this gem:

PLL Roundtable, Season 2 Episode 10: “Touched by an ‘A’-ngel”

This week, Phoebe was away on wedding escapades. The rest of us (Melissa and Sarah) sat down to discuss massages we never ever want, the future of Dr. Anne, and why nobody should ever tell Aria anything.

1.  Not a question – but – SPOUT HORROR ABOUT THE MASSAGE SCENE.  That was soooooo awful.

Melissa: I knew from the moment that the gift certificate came out that this massage scenario would somehow take a turn for the worst.  At first, I thought they were going to play up the sibling rivalry angle and have Hannah “steal” the massage, though really, I don’t know how that would have been dramatic.  Then again, we did get a country club equestrian sibling rivalry scene, so my instincts aren’t entirely off.

I think A massaging Emily is incredibly horrifying because it puts A and one of the little liars in the same room together.  I mean, I know – A was at the dance with them in Season 1 – and A was right there, helping Spencer when things went down in the bell tower with Ian.  A has been lurking right outside their very windows!  However, it’s especially horrifying to have A actually touching the girls.  Creep factor of 12.  At first, when I saw A come in, I was afraid that A was going to start rubbing HGH cream on Emily again.  Thank God that didn’t happen, at least.  But still – the implicit threat of violence (how easy it is to get my hands around your neck) was horrifying.  Hannah may have been run down, but it didn’t have the creepy violence-directed-against-women feel of this encounter.  Why the violent threat?  Because Emily was about to tell?  Or does A really have it out for Emily — so many particularly brutal threats and manipulations seem to be coming her way lately.  And her body has become A’s pawn – keeping her in Rosewood; getting her off the swim team by affecting her pain cream; now this…

Sarah: Agreed! So violating and terrible. Poor Emily.

2.  How did you feel about Spencer going to Ezra re: the Jason situation?  How did you feel about Ezrr’s response?  About Aria’s mom’s response?  (I’m really bad at remembering the parents’ names).

Melissa: I had mixed feelings about this.  Spencer can be a wee bit controlling.  On the other hand, Aria can be a way bit dense.  So I can see why she thought it was a necessary measure.  Though with all her crafty planning skills, I think she could have come up with a better plan than “car outside the school.”  Frankly, I was surprised that Aria listened to Ezra; she hasn’t seemed particularly taken with him lately, except for when she’s straddling him in his office.  Maybe she feels scared of Jason too and was just happy for a graceful out that didn’t require her to say, “I still am slightly afraid that you will throttle me in my sleep with a strange surveillance camera tripod or something.”

Poor Spencer.  Always wanting older men.  Or at least getting caught for it!  I hope Aria’s mom doesn’t spread any rumors.  With Spencer’s track record (Ian; Wren) I think people would be likely to believe that she had a fling with Fitz.  And I don’t want anything to ruin the Tobey magic.

Sarah: I get why Spencer was freaked about Aria spending time with Jason, but I think it was probably a mistake to go to Ezra—not so much as the boyfriend as going to anybody in order to try to make decisions about Aria’s life. That said, I totally think Spencer’s heart was in the right place (as Aria clearly does too in their super-sweet apology scene). Ezra, I think, handled the news pretty well by going straight to Aria and being concerned without being overly jealous. As for Ella, her reaction to the idea of Ezra and Spencer is understandable—but a part of me wonders if she’s not subconsciously projecting the truth onto a different girl in order to avoid the truth…

Don’t Lose Yourself: Scott Westerfeld’s “Uglies”

Sarah Todd

[Spoiler warning: some plot reveals ahead]

I’m not usually one for conspiracy theories, mostly because I think people aren’t that good at being organized or keeping secrets. If UFOs were really cruising over to our atmosphere, I feel like at least one modern-day Deep Throat would start an anonymous blog or text friends some pictures or whatever. And then there’d be some other poor sap who’d forget to update a security code or give the alien a snack that disagreed with his/her/its digestive system, and before you knew it, Anderson Cooper would be hiding in a tree somewhere, getting the scoop.

But there is at least one conspiracy theory I definitely do believe in. I think the beauty myth is a giant scam designed to trick people into worrying so much about the way they look that they don’t have time to focus on the stuff that really counts. (Also, I sort of believe in time warps, but that’s another story.)

Scott Westerfeld’s sci-fi YA novel Uglies, the first of a trilogy, takes the beauty conspiracy theory to its logical extreme. In a society several hundred years in the future, everyone undergoes plastic surgery when they turn sixteen. Before you have surgery, no matter how you look, you’re automatically an “ugly.” Kids nickname each other for the features judged most egregiously flawed: “Fattie, Pig-Eyes, Boney, Zits, Freak.” The novel’s fifteen-year-old heroine, Tally, is called “Squint” for her narrow eyes. She’s fully internalized her culture’s standard of beauty, and describes herself in terms of her deviation from that standard: she has a “wide nose and thin lips, too-high forehead and tangled mass of frizzy hair.” She thinks she’s ugly, but she’s not too worried about it, because she knows that in a few months she’ll get the surgery and be as beautiful as everybody else.

Post-surgery “pretties” have the requisite “big eyes and full lips like a kid’s; smooth, clear skin; symmetrical features.” Slight variations in eye and hair color make pretties distinguishable from one another, but everyone basically looks the same after surgery, which is the whole point.  Schools teach young uglies that back in the so-called Rust Era, “Everyone judged everyone else based on their appearance. People who were taller got better jobs, and people even voted for some politicians just because they weren’t quite as ugly as everybody else [. . .] People killed one another over stuff like having different skin color.” The noble goal of achieving equality has resulted in a brave new world in the elite Pretty Committee decides what’s attractive, and everyone falls in line.