(no subject)

Not a productive day at the ranch. In fact, I've spent the day doing nothing but reading blogs. I wish I could say I was a wellspring of fic, but although the ideas flow like pot fumes from Woody Harrelson's Escalade, the words are harder to come by. SLS 52 is clamoring to be written, but so is the second chapter of House of Bad Faith, an unnamed CSI Gregfic, and a billion other drabbles, and they're all lodged in my cerebral cortex in a creativity bottleneck, each pleading to be written first and best. I need to sort them, order them, assure them that they'll all have a turn. Most of all, I need to remember when ficcing was fun. It was fun once, when I could still read and watch TV and just plain vegetate with no guilt and not feel that I was somehow cheating the people who read my blog and my fics by not producing 1200 words a day.

In less melancholy news, I very much enjoyed the season finale of NCIS. Ding Dong, the witch is dead! I suspect that I am that rare breed of misogynist-the beboobed female. I despise most female characters on TV shows. They come in two flavors-Castrating Man-Bitch of Feminist Vengeance and Simpering Wallflower of Virginal Panties. Both make me want to chew wood until it shoots from my posterior like a Salad Shooter from the Ninth Circle. The former chew scenes with crass abandon, and the latter add nothing to the show but a body. Were it in my power, I would corral the lot of both groups, stuff them into semis, and have them hauled to the Thunderdome, where they would engage in bloody, bare-knuckled, gladiatorial combat to the death.

"Two women enter, not one leaves," would be my credo as I sat in the royal box and stuffed my face with popcorn and raisinets.

My problem with female characters-aside from the fact that they're competition for all that humpable dick out there-is that I am constantly reminded that they are female. That never happens with the guys on the show. Jack Malone or Gil Grissom are cool just because they're Jack or Gil, and no one interrupts the show to say, "Oh, yeah. He's a guy!" When I was a kid, MacGuyver was awesome because he could thwart a nuclear meltdown with a wad of gum, a paper clip, and a Tic Tac, not because he could pee in the poison sumac without fear of the dreaded itchy ya-ya.

But with female characters-Clare Kincaid and Jamie Ross from Law & Order, Catherine Willows from CSI, for example-being who they are isn't enough. Clare and Jamie and Catherine can't just be valuable because they exist. No, the viewer must be reminded that they have girl parts, and the girl parts mean that they have wisdom in matters involving children, deadbeat husbands, and porn. The fact that they have guns and boobs makes them the coolest kid in the room, and they prove this by being butch and snarky and scratching themselves in public. It's televised Suedom, and it's nasty.

Kate wasn't bad as Castrating Man-Bitches went. She didn't burn her bra or crotch-punch Dinozzo every time he breathed. I shudder to think what her replacement will be like. Maybe she'll chew Skoal, wear chaps, and pee standing up.

I can hardly wait.

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