Happy 2017? More like…

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Yes, we’re all still in shock for a variety of reasons… The 2nd Avenue Subway is LIVE. Meanwhile, the Cheeto-elect with his chronic gaslighting and “fabbing” (a.k.a. telling really YUGE lies) keeps everyone in a constant state of dyspepsia…  Best take care to “Memento” your most basic civil rights while you still have them. (Thank you, Sam Bee)

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Millions may lose their healthcare. We lost so much between Hodor, Prince, Bowie, George, Carrie, and Debbie… And don’t get me started on last night’s untimely death of Mary Morstan…  Oh, what have you done to us, Mark Gatiss? Can’t you see? We all just needed a little brightness back in the world? And here you go killing off the smartest woman left on the show and making her darling husband into a cheating cad? Is nothing sacred?

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This year, in lieu of resolutions about ironic taco cleanses and wearing granny undies, I’m recommending a little art therapy, courtesy of an amazing comic illustrator, Gemma Correll (gemmacorrell.com) whose book The Worrier’s Guide to Life is coming out tres soon! In these times of uncertainty, maybe make your number one resolution about self-preservation. Behold… stickers!

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And if you are feeling too weary of the world, a book recommendation to hide out with under the blankets… Olivia Laing’s remarkable meditation: The Lonely City

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You’ll thank me later. Chin up, my lovelies… Resist and stay rad!  xoxo- gg

First Prince, Now Hodor… What Next?

Hello Lovelies,

Is it just hot as balls out, or what? A perfect day to binge watch by the AC while doing Blogilates on the side (anything to avoid the dreaded writer’s bum)

A bunch of you have written in to ask what I thought of Prince and then Game of Thrones last week… what with Hodor saving the day in an epic, grand mal time seizure in which he is trapped in a last-moment loop before his own horrible death.

I spend a lot of time these days thinking about how to transcend the niche of epilepsy. Either through humor, the personal essay or any kind of narrative…  and I can honestly say… I don’t know what I think. I cried with the rest of Gotham last Sunday night.

On the one hand, Hodor has been portrayed to us over the years as a giant broken simpleton–without high cognitive function. A person with no there, there. (And Bran has been a little turd to him all too often)

On the other, the joy of serialized TV is that with each episode, we, the viewers, are given the opportunity to constantly correct what we thought we knew and that’s super fun. Our curious human brains love it.

Last Sunday, we corrected our knowledge of Hodor’s inner life in a big way. For me, the real tragedy was that there was a there… there all along.

I want to believe the boundary between being able and disabled is becoming increasingly porous, but my concern is that without a horribly tragic demise… the respect, the tiny openings just aren’t there. I too chuckled at all the memes that followed GoT, but as an out spaz… I don’t want to be a doorstop… just because I’m still getting all my words back and am stuck in a bit of a time seizure, myself.

Hodor talk pretty some day?

Still noodling over it… Stay rad and cool. XOXO – GG

For more on the troubling ethics of Hodor… see this completely compelling piece in The Atlantic Monthly.