We then pack ourselves a variety of meats and cheeses in a picnic basket, throw on our red hoodies and skip all the way back to Lima, Ohio, home of the Econo Lodge Lima, where Sue’s hosting a riveting segment of Sue’s corner.
Sue Sylvester: This nation faces a far more insidious foe: Miley Cyrus and the genital-flapping dance known as “twerking” that makes men and women alike look like overgrown, constipated toddlers. This vulgar sexually explicit excuse for a dance craze has brought American culture to a new low and that’s why tonight, Western Ohio, I solemnly pledge to end the pandemic of twerking once and for all. Not only will I outlaw twerking at McKinley High, but I have submitted a bill to the Ohio State Legislature banning twerking in Ohio public schools. And Hannah Montana can go back to naked-straddling the three-ton wrecking ball she was clearly up-sold at Home Depot, as the tiny cinderblock room she’s elected to demolish is only about 12 square feet and already has a wall missing.
Honestly the relief I felt that she wouldn’t be discussing trans* kids going to the bathroom was so overwhelming I was unable to adequately analyze whatever else the fuck was happening here.
Starsweep to the Glee Room, where the children are up in arms about the twerking ban.
Sir William’s especially incensed and spouts nonsense about lines in the sand and how Sue’s gonna hear them roar/twerk, and honestly he seems to care more about Sue’s ban on twerking than he has ever cared about anything, including Blaine being temporarily blinded by rock salt, Marley’s eating disorder, Ryder’s revelation about being a sexual abuse survivor, the rampant racism and transphobia consistently expressed by Fake Quinn, Finn outing Santana on national television, and Tina never getting a solo.
Sir William: Twerking is about blurring the lines between the past and the present, between men and women, between tradition and envelope-pushing. It’s all in that Alan Thicke song that I love.
Artie points out that the song’s by Robin Thicke, and that Sir William’s analysis is faulty, but Sir William already has a boner for his own idea and cannot control himself.
I know each episode exists in its own special time warp where we must disregard all past exposition, but you’ve got two sexual abuse survivors in your classroom and maybe should proceed with more sensitivity, Sir William. Or, you know, you could just keep on doing you, by which I mean, keep on being…
Sir William insists that if Sue wants to “draw lines in the sand” then they will “blur those lines” by ejaculating their bodies into the hallway in a totally pervy performance of “Blurred Lines” starring a grown man as a date rapist.
How could Blurred Lines get creepier? It could be sung by William Schuster, white straight cis male authority figure, flanked on both sides by nubile teenage maidens, gyrating teenage homosexuals and a simmering Miley Cyrus Sex Riot.
How ELSE could Blurred Lines get creepier? It could focus extensively upon the tension between Marley’s unwillingness to play hide the snake in the bush with New Puck and his aggressiveness in convincing her to change her mind about that and go all the way.
Beyond that, “Blurred Lines” needs no more help ascending Mount Creepyasfuck.
Watch the whole calamity for yourself:
http://youtu.be/QPCa5Kpe6Uk
Starsweep to Prinicpal Sylvester’s office, where Sue offers some insight into the precise level of Sir William’s Worstness:
Sue: You do realize that Blurred Lines is a song about date rape, don’t you?
Sir William: (laughs) What? No it’s not.
HEY SHOW, having Sue call out problematic shit doesn’t make up for the fact that you still did some problematic shit and are gonna cash in via iTunes for doing so!
Sue: You need to back your ass up to the fact that you, a married 37-year-old, just performed a song about coercive sexual advances as nine minors twerked alongside you down the hallways of a public high school.
Sir William: It’s called the first amendment, Sue. This is about freedom of expression.
UGH THE FIRST AMENDMENT DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN SAY OR DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WHEREVER YOU WANT WTHOUT GETTING IN TROUBLE. IT MEANS YOU CAN DO/SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT WITHOUT GETTING ARRESTED OR EXECUTED BY THE GOVERNMENT. JESUSFUCKINGCHRIST. ALSO PUBLIC SCHOOLS ARE BASTIONS OF CENSORSHIP, ARGUABLY THERE IS NO INSTITUTION MORE CLOSELY REGULATED FOR CURTAILED SPEECH/EXPRESSION THAN THE AMERICAN PUBLIC SCHOOLS AND IT’S NOT AGAINST THE LAW, IT’S PART OF THE LAW.
IN OTHER WORDS:
Sue fires Will but Will rejects that news. Why? Because he is…
We then time travel back to 1998, buy ourselves some killer rollerblades, time travel back to whatever godforsaken year or universe this godawful show takes place in, and speedrace each other all the way to a tattoo parlor in New York, New York, where Rachel and Kurt are chugging Limoncello out of the bottle. FYI, kiddos, before getting a tattoo you’ve gotta sign a thing that says you’re not drunk. But don’t worry they’ll never know the truth, unless you’re drinking LIMONCELLO OUT OF THE BOTTLE.
This exact thing happened to me once, where my Broadway actress best friend decided she wanted to get REAL CRAZY and by that I mean get me really drunk and take me to get a tattoo because you know, actresses aren’t supposed to get permanent body modifications until they’re certified famous.
Before we can see which Blaine fanart Kurt got tattooed on his buttcheek, we cut to the next morning, when Kurt awakens with a killer hangover and a botched tattoo — Kurt had requested “It Gets Better,” but instead got “It’s Get Better.”
Kurt: “It’s both personal and political just like me.”
Kurt talks a tad too enthusiastically about the prospect of running into Dan Savage in the steam room at David Barton and a tad too terrifyingly about the prospect of said radio star noticing Kurt’s typo’ed shoulder blade.
Rachel insists Kurt return to the tattoo parlor and right this wrong. The takeaway from this scene is that all the gayboys and boy-loving-ladies of the world got to see Chris Colfer with his shirt off and he did not disappoint.
We then remove our clothing, coat our bodies in thick layers of cold cream, olive oil, and vegan lubricant, and rocket ourselves on slip-a-slides all the way back to Lima, Ohio, where Unique is using the boy’s bathroom because the world is terrible and nothing makes sense.
“Well, if it isn’t the “Q” in the LGBTQ-XYZ-who-gives-a-crap,” says Mean Boy #1, who obviously never watched Sesame Street ’cause then he’d know that Unique is a T.
Unique begs to do her “business” and let them go, but they want to know how she “does her business” and so they snatch her wig and flush it down the toilet. It’s awful. She huddles in the corner, devastated, starting to cry, and then she softly starts into “If I Were A Boy,” and it’s actually perfect. We transition into the Glee Room where everybody listens with wet eyes and clutching emotional hands and I cried through the whole fucking thing.
http://youtu.be/UPF6JUsB1r4
Sam and Ryder and New Puck wanna know whose doucheface they can punch in this afternoon, but Unique insists the bullying will just get worse if they retaliate, an assertion patently proved false in Season Two when the boys retaliating against Kurt’s bullies finally got them to cut it the fuck out.
Sir William, of course, says that’s a terrible idea, but Sir William is an idiot, so. Instead they’ll do something else that is also worse, I’m sure.
