Sunday, November 11, 2018

I sure wish my friend would just read Judith Butler

Instead of deciding that hating her life as a woman means she must definitely be a trans man instead of just your usual run of the mill woman who hates what she's consigned to and discovers feminism as a result, necessitating her mounting a one-person musical revue which isn't one person at all but includes a pianist and a husband and a son for her to sing about wanting to play on the jungle gym as a kid instead of with Cabbage Patch dolls, culminating in an Act 1 finale in which she performs in a maternity dress with a literal baby doll stuck under her clothes to express her complex feelings about motherhood, causing me to have a fucking emotional breakdown while sitting in the front row and then leave during intermission.

If she'd just read Judith Butler, I could have had a completely different night tonight.

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