Fall into TV

It’s officially mid-September which means it’s officially time to get excited about fall TV. Which means it’s officially time to judge the new trailers for the new fall season. Most people are talking about all the new, shiny shows coming to our TVs. But, to be honest, none of them really do it for me. I mean, sure, there’s the Joss Whedon-sized elephant in the room, which I of course will watch. But the other stuff? I’m going to give “Trophy Wife” a chance because of Sarah Haskins. And maybe I’ll give “The Michael J. Fox” show a chance because Michael J. Fox was my first celebrity crush. (Don’t judge, if you squint he looks like a short, butch lesbian.) But everything else? Eh. Still, there’s plenty to get excited about. Like the returning shows. Yes, return to me, shows. Envelop me in your warm, electric embrace. Yeah, perhaps I should get out more.

Anyway, on to the judging!

Lost Girl

Sadly, there’s absolutely nothing new in this trailer. In fact it’s all scenes from Season 3 and some were even used in the promos for last season. But, damn, if I’m still not excited to have Bo and the gang back just as much. And I dig that version of “The Wanderer,” I really do. Back Nov. 10 on Showcase in Canada. (Not back in the U.S. until 2014. We’re not saying Bo, we’re saying Boooooo, Syfy.)

Glee

Yes, I’ve resigned myself to watching again. Mostly it’s to see Naya and Demi make out, because I am a deeply, deeply shallow person. Also, it’s nice to have bright colors & kids dancing on while I do the dishes. Back Sept. 26 on Fox.

American Horror Story: Coven

This show scares the ever-loving shit out of me. Like I watch in absolute terror. But it is also the show I am absolutely most excited to see because Jessica Lang, Sarah Paulson, Angela Bassett and Kathy Bates. Also witches, some evil witches. (Which we all know is ridiculous, ’cause witches – they were persecuted, Wicca good and love the earth and woman power and I’ll be over here.) Back Oct. 9 of FX.

Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Right. So, I’ll be watching this. Duh. Premieres Sept. 24 on ABC.

Right, so which returning (and new, if you must) shows are you most excited about?

Fall into TV

It’s officially mid-September which means it’s officially time to get excited about fall TV. Which means it’s officially time to judge the new trailers for the new fall season. Most people are talking about all the new, shiny shows coming to our TVs. But, to be honest, none of them really do it for me. I mean, sure, there’s the Joss Whedon-sized elephant in the room, which I of course will watch. But the other stuff? I’m going to give “Trophy Wife” a chance because of Sarah Haskins. And maybe I’ll give “The Michael J. Fox” show a chance because Michael J. Fox was my first celebrity crush. (Don’t judge, if you squint he looks like a short, butch lesbian.) But everything else? Eh. Still, there’s plenty to get excited about. Like the returning shows. Yes, return to me, shows. Envelop me in your warm, electric embrace. Yeah, perhaps I should get out more.

Anyway, on to the judging!

Lost Girl

Sadly, there’s absolutely nothing new in this trailer. In fact it’s all scenes from Season 3 and some were even used in the promos for last season. But, damn, if I’m still not excited to have Bo and the gang back just as much. And I dig that version of “The Wanderer,” I really do. Back Nov. 10 on Showcase in Canada. (Not back in the U.S. until 2014. We’re not saying Bo, we’re saying Boooooo, Syfy.)

Glee

Yes, I’ve resigned myself to watching again. Mostly it’s to see Naya and Demi make out, because I am a deeply, deeply shallow person. Also, it’s nice to have bright colors & kids dancing on while I do the dishes. Back Sept. 26 on Fox.

American Horror Story: Coven

This show scares the ever-loving shit out of me. Like I watch in absolute terror. But it is also the show I am absolutely most excited to see because Jessica Lange, Sarah Paulson, Angela Bassett and Kathy Bates. Also witches, some evil witches. (Which we all know is ridiculous, ’cause witches – they were persecuted, Wicca good and love the earth and woman power and I’ll be over here.) Back Oct. 9 of FX.

Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Right. So, I’ll be watching this. Duh. Premieres Sept. 24 on ABC.

Right, so which returning (and new, if you must) shows are you most excited about?

When Naya met Demi

I’m going to be super honest, I mix Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez up in my head all the time. Which one dated Justin Bieber again? Weren’t they in a movie together? Is she the one who went to rehab? Actually, despite my frequent habit of mixing up the assorted Disneyettes, once I straighten out who she is I realized I like Demi. “Skyscraper” is a good little song and I totally sing along to “Heart Attack” in the car. And she has been refreshingly frank about her struggles with everything form bulimia to cutting and drug and alcohol abuse. All that and the girl is only 21 years old.

So when I heard she was joining “Glee” next season as Dani, a struggling NYC artist, I thought, well, that’s a pretty good casting choice. Can sing, can act (I’m guessing here, I’ve never seen “Camp Rock”). And now the Naya Rivera let news sneaks out at the MTV VMAs that Demi will play none other than Santana Lopez’s love interest next season on “Glee.” (p.s. Way to bury the lede, MTV. The headline on their story On Naya’s interview talks just about Demi joining the “Dark Side.”)

[NOTE: A couple of you said this was autoplaying. It wasn't for me when I open the page. But I turned it into a link anyway. GO HERE TO SEE THE VIDEO.]

Boom went the lesbian dynamite. OK, fine. Dammit, FINE. I’m intrigued, “Glee.” You’ve made me decide to set the DVR again for a season pass. Just when I think I’m out, they pull me back in.

The evolution of my interest in the show has gone from shushing those in the room to not miss a thing to multi-tasking while it’s on in the background. Oh, that utterly forgettable Ryder kid is singing about being Catfished? Guess it’s time to reorganize the sock drawer again.

But I remain, despite my better judgment, curious about how this show where kids who sing their often boneheaded and sometimes beautiful feelings will handle the next step in Ms. Lopez’s life. Yes, I’ll always miss that rare, fleeting unicorn that was Brittana. They will always, always be special. But, like many people, we move on from our first loves – sometimes after very painful, premature endings – to find new people to fill our hearts with song. And, if we’re very lucky, the one to make it sing forever.

I have no idea what Glee & Co. has in store for Santana and Dani. I hope it’s the kind of organic, unexpected love story I know the show can do if they really try. Still, even if it’s not, there’s always laundry to fold while nice kids sing and dance on the screen.

p.s. Sandani? Dantana? Santani? Dana? Sani? Nope, not Sani – that sounds like sanitary napkin which is the worst portmanteau imagery of all time.

p.p.s. If the video auto-playing for anyone else. It is not for me, but was mentioned in the comments. Let me know and I will attempt to fix it.

Stop making sense

The world can seem so mean sometimes. A teenager carrying Skittles can get killed by grown man carrying a gun and it gets called justice. A legislature in Texas can ban bringing tampons into a discussion about women’s reproductive health and then vote to close all but 5 abortion clinics in a state of 26 million people. And a young man who by all accounts was unfailing nice and unquestionably talented can die at the age of 31 alone in a hotel room.

While over the years I have had extreme disagreements with the character of Finn Hudson on “Glee,” I never had any reservations about the character of Cory Monteith the person. Those who knew him and worked with him all agree he was a kind and conscientious person who was good to fans and friends alike. So news of his passing Saturday in a Vancouver hotel was shocking. So much potential, gone just like that. His struggles with addiction were well known, but he had been publically fighting the good fight this year.

For a silly show about singing and dancing teenagers, “Glee” at its best manages to transcend and touch on something universal in our hearts. What attracted me to it from the beginning was its ability to open itself up to joy – and pain, and ultimately, understanding. You may not be a 16-year-old gay boy who gets thrown in the dumpster, but now you might know how one feels. You may not be a closeted lesbian cheerleader in love with her best friend, but now you might know how one feels. You may not be a former high school quarterback who worries his glory days were left on the field, but now you might know how one feels. (Though, I still don’t understand how he was allowed to coach Glee during school hours without a fucking teaching credential. But that, like everything else, is on the writers.)

Of all the lessons that “Glee” has tried to teach us in its four years, this may be its cruelest. Life can be short and the world can be mean. Some days it’s hard to keep believing.

Where does the Glee go

Tonight’s “Glee” is, well, different. It’s quite something actually. Without giving away any spoilers, it’s strangely classic “Glee.” Not in its subject matter – which is very un Gleeful – but its overall quality. At times the episode shines with a visceral humanness that makes it impossible to not feel real big feelings. And at others it’s that same silly ADD show that uses song and dance to sell us valuable life lessons tied up with a very special episode bow. “Shooting Star” is messy, harrowing, audacious, oh-so topical. And when you’re in the thick of it does it ever work. Because sometimes real life does come crashing down on our daily frivolities to remind us just how delicate our place on this big blue marble in the sky really is. Or maybe I’m just happy that it’s an episode entirely without Finn.

But enough with the heavy. How about something adorable instead? Have you seen this Glee-inspired lesbian marriage proposal? Well, you should.

Just you wait, the Cheerio-style lesbian marriage proposal is next.

UPDATE: Now that the episode has aired, I wanted to add this and why I thought the episode ultimately worked. Interestingly, I think the show’s weaknesses (its occasional ADD, frivolity and silliness) made the school shooting scenario that much more powerful. If this was a dramatic show hell-bent on realism, something like this wouldn’t be as shocking. But on a show like Glee where immaculately coiffed and costumed teens sing and dance in elaborate productions thrown together over lunch period, no one expects reality to come crashing down in such an intense way. Which is kind of like what happens in real school shootings. Something horrible invades mundane life out of nowhere and everything stops, if only for a moment. And then, of course, it is back to the ridiculous. Because, you know, it’s Glee.

Sweet lady drunken hookups

Drunken hot girl-on-girl hookups just in time for sweeps week. Sweeeeet. For my SEO, I mean. For us, the viewers? Well, let’s talk about it. So, yes, Quinn and Santana totally did it. Like drunken squeals, naked limbs, tousled hair did it. Like this is what happens when collegiate sexual curiosity meets and an ex dancing within feet of you with some dude who does a terrible Sean Connery impersonation and is mixed liberally with fake IDs and an open bar. And, to be honest, I didn’t really mind it.

And, as long as we’re being honest, we really like it when girls hook up. Don’t lie. We like it. We dream about it. We root for it. We petition for it. We create elaborate fandoms built around it. We really, really like it. Just like you always want the cute girl you just met to be gay, or the celebrity you love to be gay, we want the characters we like to be gay – and gay for each other. We crave having our experiences reflected back to us, for other people to be like us, even if just on screen. So, Quinn and Santana hooking up with was, in concept, A-OK by me. Also, Santana’s exuberant cheer at the prospect of getting to know the last member of the Unholy Trinity in a biblical sense was pretty damn priceless.

The question then is whether Quinn and Santana hooking up in action was A-OK. And, it was and it wasn’t. Was the way their mutual bonding, drunken flirting and ultimate exploration played out realistically? Yes, yes it very much was. Since we’re on that honesty train, there’s a reason they call alcohol a social lubricant. If you haven’t had a drunken hook-up, it’s probably only because you’ve never been drunk. Which is of course fine. But liquid courage is real thing and mutually enjoyed by both the straight girls who need a reason to drop their inhibitions (along with their drawers) and the gay gals who need a reason to not care that the girls are straight. And Quinn and Satnana have a real history and a real connection that dates back to the first season of the show. They are indeed two ends of the same bitch-goddess spectrum. So, yes, in execution the Great Quintanna Explosion felt authentic.

But then there’s that bit about how it wasn’t. Because as amazing as seeing their post coital bliss and epic sex hair, I wish we weren’t seeing them for sweeps week. Timing, along with size, matters. Look, I’m glad in the great music chairs game of couplehood that is “Glee,” the Valentine’s Day episode gave us four couples bound for the bedroom and half of them were gay. But I’m less happy that the it has to happen on one of the few period a year that TV networks try to pump up ratings to be able to maximize ad rates. The Lesbian Sweeps Kiss has a long and frustrating history stretching form “LA Law” to “Friends” to “Party of Five” to the “The O.C.” to “Heroes” and I could go on.

While the execution on screen doesn’t necessarily scream Sweeps Lesbianism, it none the less falls into the category. And that’s disappointing. Because it is precisely these kinds of unexpected moments that can be the most exciting for us. When we see our own life amplified. Like when a show about a bunch of singing and dancing teenagers in twenthysomething bodies opens up with two cheerleaders talking about sweet lady kisses on top of each other in bed at the beginning of October for no reason other than it just felt right.

p.s. Though, nice touch with Quinn’s badly needed swig of water. ‘Cause a girl can get mighty parched while getting mighty wet. Ahem.

My Weekend Glee

Right, so I said I wouldn’t write about “Glee” until “Glee” gave me a good reason to write about “Glee” again. And last night, well, “Glee” gave me that reason. How do you begin to make amends with the Lesbian Blogging Community? Well, proving Santana is a member of that Lesbian Blogging Community helps. And name checking AfterEllen and Rizzoli & Isles lesbian subtext doesn’t hurt either.

Last night “Glee” broke the fourth wall once more to address the Lesbian Blogging Community, but in a way that neither shamed or insulted us. Instead it acknowledged our existence and by doing so addressed some of our complaints. In fact, they practically followed my good and wise friend Heather’s suggestions for how to get their shit together to a T.

Grovel? Well, Santana declaring has an “out and proud, lipstick loving, AfterEllen-reading girlfriend” means our existence has not gone unnoticed. Bring back Santana? Hell yeah, and by bringing her to New York instead of keeping her a Lima loser (cough, Finn, cough). Extend the same courtesies to your lesbian and gay relationships as you do to your straight ones? Santana kisses Elaine and Brittany – on the lips and everything. Give Santana a girlfriend? Well, sorta – Elaine turned out to be gay for pay and an Ani DiFranco T-shirt. Learn the word “endgame” and apply it to Brittana? Not quite yet, but I still hang on that four-letter word “hope.”

So is all forgiven? Well, no. I mean, I’m not so easy that one shout out to AfterEllen makes everything magically better. But I do appreciate the effort and am thankful for that first step toward reconciliation. We, the collective Lesbian Blogging Community, are an awfully demanding bunch. I should know, I try to please us every day. But I also think we’re by and large fair. So if someone tries to do better, I want to applaud and encourage that. Redemption is a hard and even harder earned. What happens next will make all the difference.

But what else impressed me just as much as the unabashed name drop was the nuanced handling of the Santana-Brittany-Sam love triangle. The entire Lesbian Blogging Community/Brittana fandom wasn’t accused of knee-jerk , not to mention violent, myopia. Instead Santana and Sam were presented as equals, vying for the love of a bisexual woman who was allowed to make her own decision. Sure, we might not be happy with her choice right now. But it wasn’t made because Sam is the boy or lesbian are nutters. Gender wasn’t an issue, just that eternal struggle between the head and the heart. Santana will probably always love Brittany – but she knows she has to move on for now and will do it in that concrete jungle where dreams are made and lesbians live in Tribeca communes.

“Glee” has always been that strange amalgamation of raw heart and self-aware snark. At its best it transcends its silly song and dance with simple truths that help us understand each other a little more. Or be so bitchy you just can’t help but laugh. And when it’s brilliant, it’s brilliant. That moment when you realize who you really are and how hard it will be to show that to the world, “Glee” knows how to do that. When it’s not brilliant, well, we all know what that’s like. While I never expected this show to be perfect, I do demand it keep trying to be better.

And, on a completely shallow note, I can’t help but be thrilled that Santana Lopez has a favorite Rizzoli & Isles Lesbian Subtext Blog. Which means Santana ships Rizzles. And I write Rizzoli & Isles Lesbian Subtext Recaps. Which means, wait, does Santana reads my blog? Fiction/reality, who cares. Everything is gayzzoli – even Brittana – and nothing hurts. Now that Ms. Lopez (and the always amazing Naya Rivera) has moved back in, I’ll be watching on the regular again. Just when I thought I was out, “Glee” pulls me back in. Happy weekend and watching, all.

About last Glee

Oh, you’re back. Yeah. This is going to be awkward. Um, “Glee,” we need to talk. There comes a point where you have to just stop and say it out loud. Admit it to yourself, your friends, the universe. This just isn’t working. This has to end. Hey, “Glee,” I’m just not that into you anymore. It’s not me, it’s definitely you. While I still may love some aspects of you, you clearly do not love me or any other member of the collective Lesbian Blogging Community back. Which is a shame, because there has always been something rather endearing about you and your plucky insistence on having adults pretending to be teenagers sing and dance and learn three or four of the same life lessons over and over and over again.

I’m not saying we can’t still be friends. I’m loyal to a fault. So I will keep tabs on you and more than likely continue to check in, possibly even weekly. Since I’m not a Nielsen family there’s no real harm in keeping you on like white noise. But I won’t obsess about you. I won’t stress about you. And most of all, I won’t write about you. I’m just going to let you exist and pull crazy stunts like bursting through the fourth wall like a vindictive Mr. Kool-Aid and say insulting, misguided things in an attempt to shame an entire fanbase. Oh, yeahhhh…don’t think the Lesbian Blogging Community will ever forget that. You don’t just get kicked in the head by someone you thought you had a deep and meaningful relationship with and let go of that without good reason. So until you, dear “Glee,” give me a good reason to care again, I just won’t.

As irresponsible and enraging it is that a so-called champion of all things LGBT thinks its lesbian fans are a bunch of unstable goons who just want to murder the faces off of boys who dare look at the girls they like, I’m simply not going to let you make my blood pressure spike anymore. Nor will I grind my teeth at your total missing of the point that the lack of equal affection representation in your lesbian – and gay, too, because we care about the whole rainbow believe it or not – relationships compared to the straight ones. It’s no longer fruitful for me to get worked up at all of your flaws. I can’t fix you, as much as I’d like to. Only you can fix you. And if you do, we’ll talk again. Only time will tell.

Naya night

In lieu of watching the upcoming episode of “Glee” – which to date I have received approximately 5 million emails and tweets about already because of the preview featuring that Brittany/Sam kiss – I have decided to just let Naya Rivera sing me in a sweet stupor instead. In the spirit of the season, I’ve also made peace with my loss of emotional investment in this show, what with the Version 2.0 Gleeks hogging all the spotlight in an apparent race to alternately annoy and bore me to death. But I am not and will never be bored of the sound of Naya singing to Brittany, me and/or the universe. So please, let the holly jolly take over you. And in self-imposed hiatus from that show I used to really look forward to, but now mostly half watch while I play Drop 7 on my iPhone, here is a little treat. Nothing soothes the savaged Brittana soul better than a gorgeous “Silent Night.” Bram sounds terrible anyway, like something you add to your morning cereal for fiber.




What Glee?

Oh, “Glee.” What I once equated with a squeal and a joyous giggle, now more often elicits a sigh and shoulder shrug. The thing about this show, the thing about all shows, is that the stories only matter if we believe in them. TV is the tinkerbell of mediums. It only lives when we clap. But when the clapping stops, shows stop. That's how it works. Even the most brilliant TV (My So-Called Life, Firefly, Wonderfalls) can't live without fans.

So, when a show – or its creator – goes out of its way to alienate parts of its fanbase, well, that'’ a problem. So, I ask you, how do we solve a problem like Ryan Murphy? Ryan Murphy is a little bit genius at creating TV shows that make us care, at least at first. Popular, Nip/Tuck, Glee. Come on, pretty awesome. But then being a little bit genius is sort of like being a little bit pregnant. It tends to be all or nothing proposition.

The best stories come alive, both off the page an on the screen. The characters stop feeling like characters and start feeling like people. So then a good rule of thumb when it comes to writing characters is how readers react to them. Not necessarily whether a character is liked or not – that’s just taste and personality. But instead our reaction to their actions. If a character does something we don't like, do we get mad at the character or do we get mad at the writer? If it’s the latter that's a Houston we have a problem.

On “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” when Willow got – quite literally – high off magic and Tara broke up with her, no one called for Joss Whedon’s head. That felt like horrible, terrible, so very sad real life (minus the mystical powers part). On “Modern Family,” no one gets mad at Steven Levitan for letting Phil embarrass his children/wife/father-in-law week after week. That feels like the dorky dad in all of our lives.

But on, “Glee,” we rarely blame the characters for their own bad behavior. We blame Ryan Murphy. (Well, minus maybe Finn. We blame Finn and Ryan Murphy.) Finn outs Santana then song assaults her to having fun about it and everyone hugs & sings Katy Perry afterward. RYAN MURPHY! After sleeping together for three years Santana & Brittany continue to only give each other deep, meaningful hugs on camera. RYAN MURPHY! Finn is the requisite white male hero, yet continues to have to relearn lessons he already learned in the first season. RYAN MURPHY!

For lesbian TV viewers, it is an all-too familiar formula. A show we begin breathlessly watching filled with characters we love and actors we respect that somehow veers off course and becomes a frequent kicking bag. Just replace our current cries of RYAN MURPHY with our past cries of ILENE CHAIKEN and you get the picture. We can all tell when the strings on the marionette start to show. And that is one of the worst sins of storytelling – not letting your stories come alive.

But now, more than having just shortcomings in storytelling, “Glee” seems to be taking on a decidedly ungleeful attitude toward its lesbian and bisexual fans. The aforementioned Mr. Murphy in fact seems to be actively trolling lesbian fandom with tweets like this.

And, yes, I saw the “Wedding of the Year” tweet, too.

Now, I understand that constant negativity and hateful feedback suck. Anyone who shares their opinions or art with the public is subject to adoration and wrath in equal measure. And, of course, people should not be harassed or bullied for their work. There is a difference between haranguing and respectful disagreement. But it confounds me when storytellers get angry at people who care deeply about the characters they created for them to care about. Yes, a lot of Glee’s gay women fans are annoyed with the show for its inconsistencies. But why shouldn’t they be allowed to express that frustrations? Am I thankful “Glee” allowed Santana and Brittany to exist and fall in love and be a couple? God, yes. So much yes. They are lovely. They are important. But that doesn’t mean all future treatment of those characters or other storylines must be worshipped. Also, don’t get me started on the idea that characters should somehow be punished for fan reactions. Do writers really “give up” on storylines because of fans? Shouldn’t they only give up on storylines because the story doesn’t work?

Like I was saying – oh, “Glee.”

The Break-Up

Right. So let’s talk about it. I mean really, really talk about it. Process, if you want to be all lesbian about it. Yep, I’m talking about “The Break-Up.” (Quit reading now if you haven’t watched last week’s episode of “Glee,” so you can still have some deluded semblance of mystery about what breakup I’m talking about.)

So, Brittana broke up. Santana broke it off with Brittany and we all cried – don’t lie, you cried. My very wise friend Heather Hogan astutely noted in her lovely AfterEllen recap:

For all of its missteps and flip-flops and bizarro misogyny, the one thing Glee has always done exceptionally well is hit us where it hurts. See, because this show isn’t really about what we experienced in our teenage lives; it's a show about how we experienced our teenage lives.

And that’s the thing about “Glee.” When it works, it’s magic. When it doesn’t, it’s a fucking mess. If the emotions aren’t right, there’s no fixing it with a flashy song or dance. You can’t fake The Feelings, especially The Big Gay Feelings. Those either ring true or they don’t. That’s why it was all wrong when Finn song assaulted Santana. That’s not how it would feel if your outer got all up in your grill and lectured you that girls just want to have fun. You’d punch him in the nose with rage, not hug him tight in thanks.

But when Santana sits Brittany down and sings “you are the best thing that’s ever been mine,” you know it’s real. Those emotions, what it feels like to look at the first person you ever loved and know you have to let go, those emotions are ones we’ve almost all felt. Maybe not that exact circumstance, definitely not with those amazing legs that go on forever crossed just so. But the how it felt part, heavens, yes.

Now, we can argue about whether Brittany and Santana had to break up. Why, Ryan Murphy, why? But you can’t argue about how it felt. You can’t argue with the soft, ravaged anguish on Santana’s face. You can’t argue with the raw, pulsing nerve of Brittany’s tears. Breaking up with someone you love, man, does it hurt. Like crumple up your heart into the tightest, hardest ball ever hurt. It’s knowing you are leaving someone you will always love “the most” kind of pain. I can’t say it’s a good hurt, but it’s a true hurt.

And, for all its ridiculousness, that’s what I want from my “Glee.” Not that everything makes sense or is even remotely possible given the laws of physics and constraints of public high school choir budgets. But that the emotions they sell me feel true. Whether it be joy or pain or fabulosity, I want my “Glee” to be honest with me where it counts – The Feelings.

Also, can we take more than a minute and talk about Naya Rivera’s performance? The way emotions wash gently over her face, the way her eyes speak and her voice transcends. Yeah. We have not seen the last of this woman. Not even close.

So am I happy that Santana and Brittany broke up? Fuck, no! I will go down as a proud and faithful crew member of the S.S. Brittana. Let the band play as the ship sinks. I will dance to their beautiful music until the very last millimeter of deck goes under the cold, icy water and descends to the floor of the deep, dark ocean. Too many shipping metaphors? Never! But at least the way they broke up, as much as I hate it, feels real.

In a little over three short seasons this silly show about an even sillier show choir has managed to spin an entirely unsilly story about a super snarky cheerleader and her super sweet best friend who somehow fell in love and made it connect with countless gay girls and straight girls and gay boys and maybe one or two straight boys and more than a few of us who are too old to be called either girls or boys anymore. So while we may complain loudly and passionately and righteously about how some of it was handled and keep a hetero v. homo kiss counter running nonstop in our heads, we cannot deny that in some things the writers and even Ryan Murphy have done some things just right. Even if it was accidental, even if it started as a joke, you can’t deny that Brittana mattered. They touched people, some of them the most vulnerable among us at the most vulnerable times in their lives.

Some people think caring about TV is silly or dumb of that word Brittany hates most, stupid. Sure, it can be. TV isn’t real life, of course. Real life can be so much more mundane and magnificent and everything in between. TV is just TV. But the thing about it, the thing that can make it magic when it works, TV can make us feel real things. Real, horrible, beautiful, heartbreaking things. Oh what “Glee.”

Deja Glee

I have seen the new “Glee.” It’s a lot like the old “Glee.” And I don’t necessarily mean old as in that loveable band of weirdos and misfits we met way back in 2009. I mean old as in, gosh, this all seems so familiar. Sure, Rachel is in New York. Sure, the New Directions audition for replacements. Sure, many of our favorites faces are absent and many new faces are introduced. But the more things change the more they stay the same. “Glee” continues its “Glee” ways in more ways than one – it shows its teeth while celebrating its heart in both exhilarating and excruciating ways.

But first, about those new members. The reason this Season 4 premiere feels so familiar is because the new characters feel so familiar. Like, really, really familiar. Like, I’m not even kidding.

• We have a new Quinn, Kitty (like, she’s actually called “my new Quinn”).
• We have a new Puck, Jake (like, his last name is actually Puckerman).
• We have a new Finn, Brody (like, he is actually introduced to us while singing in the shower).
• And, of course, we have a new Rachel, Marley (like, she actually sings a split-screen duet with the old Rachel).

I’m sure this is by design. There’s a reason so many sequels get made. People like the familiar and the familiar makes money. To wit, we have a cast of new characters that doesn’t – at least initially – feel all that new. Do they all work as Version 2.0s? Well, for those of us old enough to remember having to spend long nights at Kinkos to finish school papers, the lesson is clear. The copy is never as good as the original.

That said, in spite of myself, I find myself liking at very least The New Rachel, Marley. Call me a sucker for the underdog of underdogs. Plus girl can sing. And I, too, always had a soft spot for the poor, maligned lunch ladies.

But on to what you care about. The Spoilers. (And that, my Gleeks, is your spoiler warning.)

What can Klainers expect? No kissing. But we do get a lovely Klaine moment which effectively ends all Klaine moments for the foreseeable future. Nothing like the power of song to convince your boyfriend he should move far, far away from you. How about the Brittana Army? No kissing, clearly, as Santana is in this episode by name only. But we do get a Brittany mention of her girlfriend at the very least and discussion of how hard it is to make out over Skype. Because “you can’t really scissor over web cam.” Sure, it’s a nice call back to their first discussion of scissoring, but can we get real for a mili-second? Lesbians don’t really scissor, at least all that much. Too much delicate weight distribution and careful balance is involved. Back me up, ladies. But then, this is a show from Ryan Murphy, so I guess we’re lucky he’s even in the ballpark when it comes to some of the things lesbians actually do in bed. Also there’s also no Quinn, so Faberry Nation will need to keep reading fanfic at least one week longer.

But back to the episode. A little song, a little dance, a little Slushie in your pants (assuming some dripped down from your face). It’s the “Glee” we know and sometimes love and sometimes really, really hate with a few new faces and all the same issues. Being the loveable outsider is hard, but ultimately fulfilling. Following your dreams is hard, but ultimately fulfilling. What makes you different is hard, but ultimately fulfilling. And your new dance instructor is a hard-ass alcoholic bitch, but ultimately your triumph over her will be fulfilling.

But at least we can be happy for the little things. And the best little thing in the Season 4 premiere is that there is absolutely, positively, miraculously no Finn. He’s in the Army, and a grateful nation thanks him for his service.