I love Tom and Lorenzo's fashion analyses.

I bet they win Janie Bryant more Emmys.

I don't watch Mad Men, but that's still an interesting analysis. I need to see one on something I watch to see if I buy it.

Often when I read fashion analyses on Supernatural, and I think they're mainly full of shit. But that costuming is so second nature that at least one of the stars seems to appear in public in the same clothes.

But that costuming is so second nature that at least one of the stars seems to appear in public in the same clothes.

Yeah, I think Sam's wardrobe is mostly based on Jared's at this point.

The Killing: seriously? Linden was going to marry her psychiatrist, quit her job, and drag her son to another state, and that was the healthy getting-her-life-together choice? Papa Larsen forgiving himself or whatever that was also super annoying. Sorry for trying to kill you a couple weeks ago, I fixed your porch light! Now I gotta go get a dog for my son the bird stomper.

I have hardly ever felt as insulted by any show as by "The Killing" Maybe when Fonzie literally did the shark jump.

A friend of mine interviewed Christina Hendricks for GQ - she had some interesting things to say:

[link]

I liked her answer to this question:

GQ: Hypothetically, had Joan known that Don was sticking up for her, do you think that would have made her reconsider?

Christina Hendricks: [Pause] I don't know. I don't know that it would have. But I think that it meant a lot that one person out of all those people—not even Roger!—actually cared. A lot of what last season was about in terms of Joan was getting no respect. These new guys were in the office and they were treating her so poorly, she's been there forever and she's running the ship and she's getting basically shit on every day at work. And here, this scenario comes up, and the father of her child doesn't even say, absolutely not. So at least one person, out of this entire crew, cared.

And also:

GQ: One of the most powerful moments in the episode was seeing Joan lock eyes with Don at the partner's meeting, both of them knowing what had happened. What was going through Joan's head at that instant?

Christina Hendricks: As I was playing it, it was sort of, "Don't judge me, I'm in this room," "What's done is done," and "Thank you," all at once. It's this sort of, here I am and let's move forward. And just, really owning it, and yet, we're not gonna discuss it.

Peripheral thoughts on Madmen:

1) The first time Don is in conflict with Joan will he lose is temper and say something unforgivable about how Joan got her partnership? My guess: yes.

2) Does Don now think of her differently? Did the part of him that believes that "all women are whores" just get reinforced? Given his issues, I'd again guess "yes'.

3) Offhand I can't think of any TV character who was not a serial killer with as strong a Madonna/Whore complex as Don. Maybe I'm forgetting somebody?

Does Don now think of her differently? Did the part of him that believes that "all women are whores" just get reinforced? Given his issues, I'd again guess "yes'.

I don't think Don thinks all women are whores. That's certainly not how he thought of Anna, or Peggy or Joan, for that matter.

I do think Roger believes everybody has their price. But that's different.

I think part of him thinks that, not all of him. I think he thinks of them as exceptions. One layer of him anyway. He knows that part of him is wrong and hates it, but it is there.

This is a pretty amazing analysis of The Other Woman:

[link]

A lot of the discussion around this episode focuses on would Joan really do this, and hey, she's in a desperate situation because she has to care for her child as a single parent. Yes, it's true that Joan is a single parent, and it's true that that's a difficult situation. Except Joan hasn't brought that up. She hasn't talked about her fears about raising Kevin alone and hasn't seemed all that stressed about money (or alimony?), to the point that she declines Roger's attempts to pay off-the-books child support.

She didn't sleep with scuzzy car guy just because she was desperate for the stability. She slept with him because she's in a liminal phase.

Liminalty is the scary in-between times in our lives, the weird time when we're not who we used to be but we're not quite who we're going to be. Joan's in a classic — classic! — liminal phase right now. She's not the office vixen anymore, but she hasn't really transitioned to doting mother. And to top it all off, she's in the middle of a particularly traumatic divorce. Joan doesn't know who she is anymore; her entire identity is jeopardized.

How do you fit back into your old life, if you can't be you? By being other people. Joan isn't acting out or acting crazy, she's grasping for models of behavior. She used to be the absolute queen of decorum, never a hair out of place or a situation she couldn't handle. She is not that person anymore, and she doesn't know who to be next — but she's surrounded by men, some cruel, some decent, but all solid, all real, all right there. Maybe she could be like them, just for a little, just until things got easier or clearer. Liminality leads to mimesis, the imitation of the community around us in an attempt to reintegrate ourselves in our new form. Joan's just acting like the members of the community she's part of, and that community happens to be the bigwigs at SDCP. Roger, Don, Bert, Lane, Pete. Why would Joan prostitute herself? To fit in again.

Don's the son of a prostitute, a guy who's patronized many a sex worker, someone who has accidentally — or at least unconsciously — made people around him feel like they'd sold themselves. He's the guy who coined the term "that's what the money is for!" He threw money, actual money, at his protegée in an attempt to shame and punish her. Pete is a rapist, a cheater, a schemer, someone shockingly desperate to get what he thinks is his due. He has also partaken in the services of sex workers. Lane is an embezzler and philanderer, but he's so darn decorous that he insists that Don let him pay his fair share for the prostitutes they picked up together on New Year's. (That was $25 well spent.) Joan knows how deep Roger's lecherous streak goes, and she's been a beneficiary of it for a good chunk of her adult life. Bert Cooper embodies detachment, perhaps thanks to his lack of testicles. Heck, Joan's just one of the guys.