Carol: The Goth Remake

Would you like to escape our current terrible reality? Of course you would, all feeling, thinking, non-Congressional Republican humans do. Then welcome to my Alternate Universe where the Goddess of Death and the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo are totally dating. The newest trailer for “Thor: Ragnarok” was released recently and Cate Blanchett has only gotten MORE AWESOME as Hela, the Goddess of Death. Can I just say Carol got an upgrade.



But I think what I enjoy the most is imagining the infinite number of parallel universes where Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara are still a couple. In one universe, they’re Carol and Therese. In another they’re Hela and Lisbeth Salander.



I mean, just picture magnificent antlered Hela and her black latex lounging around the house with goth-punk hacker Lisbeth by her side. Don’t lie, you know you’d watch the hell out of “Carol” reimagined as a death metal romance. I sure would.

My Weekend Crush

I’ve never wanted to be punched in the face by someone more. Look, I’m generally a very nonviolent person. I’ve never gotten into a physical fight (sibling tussles don’t count). I’ve never even broken a bone (despite my perennial klutziness). But I would KILL to have Charlize Theron punch me. Or hip toss me. Or kick me in the throat. Charlize has really become one of the most dynamic action stars of our time. I guess it shouldn’t surprise anyone that the woman who broke out thanks to her big fight scene with Teri Hatcher in “2 Days in the Valley” should make a career out of kicking ass. I don’t know if “Atomic Blonde” will be any good when it opens today (though, hot damn, do I want it to be based on that ridiculously hot trailer). But I already know Charlize will be awesome, because she always is. Furiosa awesome? We can only hope. Happy weekend ass kicking, all.

Fuck Trump In Particular, Part Infinity

Just once in 2017 I would like to wake up and not be absolutely horrified by the state of this country. Just once in 2017 I would like to wake up and not be absolutely disgusted by the pathetic little man we have somehow allowed to assume the presidency (despite losing by 3 million votes – ahem forever). Just once in 2017 I would like to wake up and not be absolutely terrified for black, brown, foreign, immigrant, Muslim, transgender, gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, poor and any other marginalized people this administration is attacking daily. Just once in 2017 I would like to wake up and not have to think about the absolute worst person in the world, Donald Fucking Trump.

But, alas, I can’t. I haven’t. I won’t. Not until this monstrous excuse for a human is removed from the presidency. I have no confidence that the GOP-controlled House or Senate will find its backbone. I have no confidence that Trump voters will find their souls. My only hope is that all the people who stayed home, all the people who thought Trump and Hillary were the same, all the people who voted for Jill Stein, all the people who listened to Susan Goddamn Sarandon might wake up. That we, the progressives and liberals and sane people of this country – who, and this cannot be emphasized enough, outnumber the small-minded and conservative – come together and do everything in our power to remove this menace from the White House.

And, guess what, your preferred candidate in 2018 or 2020 might not be The One. Your might have to compromise. You might have to vote for your second choice. You might have to accept that progress is often painfully slow. But the alternative to moving forward (and, let’s be perfectly clear, that is electing Democrats over Republicans) is Trump and this infernal administration.

Remember when your progressive favs argued there would never be a safer time to vote for a third party than in 2016? I do. Remember when moderate conservatives argued Trump was really pro-LGBT and supported gay rights? I do. Remember when he held up a rainbow flag upside down? I do. Remember when the Hate Pumpkin himself had the audacity to tweet this out? I fucking do.



And then yesterday happened when I woke up to a buzzing phone that said Trump tweeted he will not “allow or accept” transgender people to serve in any capacity in the military. He said this was because of the “burden” of their medical costs and the “disruption” of their presence. Yes, he banned transfolk from the military on fucking Twitter.



So yeah, you read that right, the poor little rich boy who got five draft deferments from Vietnam because of “bone spurs” wants to kick out 15,000 patriotic trans servicemembers. Never mind that according to a Defense Department-commissioned study published just last year the military spends at least 10 times more a year on erectile dysfunction drugs ($84 million annually) compared to trans-related medical care ($2.4-$8.4 million annually). Never mind that the same study estimated the increase in cost is a minuscule fraction (a tiny 0.13-percent or $8.4 million out of $6.2 billion) of the military’s total healthcare costs. Nope, trans folks gotta go because to save us from this disruptive burden. Interesting, well I can’t wait his imminent banning of limp dicks because of the disruptive burden they are on the military.

Oh, and in case you are wondering, a Trump trip down to Mar-A-Lago costs about $3.6 million for taxpayers per pop and he has been there 11 weekends out of his 27 weeks in office. I’m not great at the maths, but say if he spent two weekends in Washington instead that “burden” sure seems like it might be lifted. Weird. Almost makes it seem like it’s not about the money after all.

But, oh no, Trump’s LGBT-lovin’ ways weren’t done for the day. Then it broke that his Department of Justice argued in federal court that gay people aren't protected from discrimination under Title VII. That racist Keebler Elf Jeff Sessions has his DOJ file a brief – in a case the department wasn’t even directly involved in – to explicitly say it’s A-OK to discriminate against homosexuals. Also, yes, the brief used the term “homosexuals,” and not LGBT because of fucking course it did.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS FUCKING ADMINISTRATION.

Look, politics and politicians are almost always disappointing. I get that. But this isn’t about your feelings and your hopes and your dreams for a utopian world. This is about how this administration and its policies are hurting real people right now. Be it a trans servicemember or a Islamic refugee or a Latino immigrant or people with pre-existing medical conditions (oh yeah, don’t forget they’re actively trying to strip tens of millions of Americans of their healthcare as we speak). Real people, real pain.

My promise to you is I will do everything I can to remove this man from office. I will not become disenchanted because I’m not getting everything I want. I will not turn my back on the most vulnerable communities out of sullenness or apathy. It’s not about me, it’s about we the people. And we the people deserve so much better than this unending parade of hate. Fuck Donald Trump.

And to our brave trans military members, thank you for your service. To scared trans youth, we love you. Seek help if you are hurting. You can find it at www.translifeline.org or by calling 877-565-8860. And once more, with all of the feelings, fuck Donald Trump.

Star-Crossed Lovers

Spoiler Alert: Full-on lesbian processing about the finale of “Doctor Who” Season 10 is about to happen. And, yeah, don’t watch that video is you don’t wanna feel the feels.

I’ve been terribly behind on my TV watching (having nightly panic attacks about the rapidly declined state of our country and rage blackouts at having to beg Republican congressmen not to kill us just so they can give millionaires tax cuts is really cutting into my leisure time, you know). But last weekend I finally caught up on the most recent season of “Doctor Who.” And, after thinking about it and thinking about it and rewatching some epsiodes I’ve decided – I like it, I really liked it.

Because of the delay between me watching the first episode and then the last, I had forgotten exactly how things were left between Bill Potts and Heather/The Sentient Oil Puddle. So I rewatched the finale, and then I rewatched the premiere back to back and, goodness, it works, it really works.

For those who didn’t watch this season, here is lightening recap of the story arc: lesbian chips server Bill meets a girl named Heather with a star in her eye who dreams of going places and then disappears into a sentient oil puddle that then chases Bill through space and time because, you know, insert lesbian U-Hauling joke. Bill convinces Heather/Puddle to let her go and then travels through space and time with The Doctor instead. But then she gets turned into a killer robot/Cyberman (which is bad – and kind of kills her) and Heather/Puddle returns to save her and turn her into a sentient puddle and then travel all of space and time together instead. The end.

So, technically – Bill dies-ish. So you could considered this a Bury Your Gays/Dead Lesbian Syndrome candidate. But it was also something more. I remember when I watched the season premiere it felt so melancholy. We’re meeting Bill at the same time she is losing this girl who just might be the one. So in the finale it all comes back around in the most unexpected and unexpectedly welcome way. Sure, Bill isn’t human anymore. But we’re all just atoms that can be rearranged any way you like now she is something else. And that something else gets to travel all of space and time with her girlfriend.

I’d place the finale of “Doctor Who” Season 10 in the same realm of “San Junipero.” That’s another story with the quite literal burying of the lesbians (like, for real, you see a burial). But the two women live happily ever after in the great virtual hereafter. A computer simulated reality, all of space and time. Whatever it takes to get our lesbian happy endings, hey, I’ll take it.

No Wavering on Waverly

Things I didn’t know about Dominique Provost-Chalkley (a.k.a. the ever-adorable and thankfully no longer black-eyed, demon-possessed Waverly Earp).

1. She can dance. Like really, really dance.

2. She is British. Like really, really British.

I don’t know how it took me this long to realize either one. I blame not knowing about her British accent because I am one of those people who prefers reading interviews to watching them (sorry all media companies and your insane video pushes) and therefore just had never heard her speak out loud outside of her character. I also credit her incredible acting because I did not hear even a hint of that British-person-doing-an-American-accent thing you often hear when a British person does an American accent. But now that I know what her true voice sounds like, HELLO.



As for the dancing thing, well, I should have guessed after that “everyone’s thing”-cheerleading routine. And her well-toned midriff is continually on display on the show. Is that like written into her contract or what. But check it, homegirl can move.



Right, as if there weren’t enough reasons to love Dominique and WayHaught already. But, just to be safe, better watch that cheerleading scene one more time.

p.s. I could not be more thrilled by the news from over the weekend that “Wynonna Earp” has been picked up for a third season. (Way)Haught damn, that is well deserved.

Naked Lady Monday

It’s the most wonderful time...of the year. Yes, it’s The Body Issue time, which is here to tide us over with our sporty ladies fix until the Olympics roll around again. This year’s crop features a slew of talented athletes. I’m also pleased they at least tried to pose each of the athletes engaging in poses somewhat related to their sport. No more creampuff shots of naked ladies, dudes. Just naked ladies doing the thing they do best – kicking ass. Fine, that butt shot is pretty, extremely creampuff – the puffiest. But, you know, sometimes a little sweet isn’t so bad. So without further ado-ing, ready, set, naked.

A.J. Andrews, Softball


Kirstie Ennis, Adaptive Sports


Nneka Ogwumike, Basketball


U.S. Women’s National Hockey Team


Ashley Wagner, Figure Skating


Michelle Waterson, MMA


Novlene Williams-Mills, Track & Field


Caroline Wozniacki, Tennis

My Weekend Lesbian Power Couple

Newsflash: All your favs are gay and apparently dating each other. In an interview with ESPNW released yesterday, it was revealed that Sue Bird, of the U.S. Women’s National Basketball team and the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, and Megan Rapinoe, of the U.S. Women’s National Soccer team and NWSL’s Seattle Reign, are dating. They met, and this is adorable, at the 2016 Olympics in Rio because of course their meet-cute is better/more impressive/infinitely sportier than yours.



In the same interview Sue, a 15-year veteran of the WNBA and 10-time All-Star, came out as gay.

“I'm gay. Megan's my girlfriend. ... These aren't secrets to people who know me. I don't feel like I've not lived my life. I think people have this assumption that if you're not talking about it, you must be hiding it, like it's this secret. That was never the case for me.

"It's happening when it's happening because that's what feels right. So even though I understand there are people who think I should have done it sooner, it wasn't right for me at the time. I have to be true to that. It's my journey."

Congratulation on coming to this stage of your journey, Sue. And congratulations on your super sporty relationship. This is most definitely one of those times I bemoan the fact that same-sex couples can’t produce their own biological offspring because, damn, can you imagine the athletic prowess of the Bird-Rapinoe baby?



So now I guess all that is left is to rank them on the Definitive Lesbian Power Couple List. Below Ellen and Portia (duh, because everyone is below them). Probably above Samira and Lauren (sorry, fellow writers, we’re still just writers). Less May-December than Sarah Paulson and Holland Taylor (you know, not that there's anything wrong with that). Near wherever K-Stew and whomever she is currently dating (but seriously, who is it now?) Happy lesbian power coupling weekend, all.

Wonder Women

My goodness, now isn’t this some perfect timing. First the “Wonder Woman” movie comes out and we’re all transported to a paradise island of Themyscira filled with Amazons who know that when it comes to pleasure men are not necessary. And now we get a biopic about the man who created Wonder Woman and the wonder women in his own life. If you know even a little bit about Wonder Woman’s comic origins (or have perused some old copies) you know that the man who created her and went by the penname of Charles Moulton was, well, kinky as hell. So naturally the film “Professor Marston and the Wonder Women” delves into his kinks and polyamorous relationship with his wife and a female student, who helped to inspire Wonder Woman.

Now, it would be easy to go with the “Oooooh, threesome”-route with this film. But the trailer suggests something much deeper and – very thankfully – let’s the women’s role in this relationship truly shine. And it also seems to blends two of my favorite things: feminism and ladies-kissing-ladies But then, we should expect no less from lesbian filmmaker Angela Robinson, who wrote and directed the project. She is the writer-director behind your favorite campy lesbian film “D.E.B.S.” and your favorite “The L Word” sequence a.k.a. The Phone Tree. So, hell yeah, let your freak flag fly. The more wonder women, the better.

No Time Like the Present

Just like probably everyone born after 1963, I read “A Wrinkle in Time” as a kid and loved it. How could you not? A girl travelling through the space time continuum to fight evil and save her family? Hello, yes. And now that the trailer for the new big screen adaptation I have a feeling kids old and young will remember again why they loved this story so much. The first trailer for the film from director Ava DuVernay is a feast for the eyes. And, just as exciting, is how wonderfully diverse the cast is. Look, folks, this is science fiction – we get to make the worlds we want to see. We’re bound by nothing but our imagination. So why not be inclusive? Exactly, no reason at all.

Armor Top Tuesday

My sexuality, TBH.

The Lady Doctor Is In

You gals, you gals, WE DID IT! We ruined more men’s childhoods! A round of high vaginas to everyone! It only took 54 years, but finally we have a female Doctor Who. Yesterday it was announced that British actress Jodie Whittaker will pick up the Sonic Screwdriver as the 13th Doctor. Of course, now they have to turn it onto a Sonic Melonballer or something because ladies and boobies and such. Duh.

I’m not familiar with Jodie (I never watched “Broadchurch” or “Attack of the Block” or any other “Black Mirror” episode than “San Junipero”). But folks who know about these things seem very pleased about her casting and I am as well. I have not been a huge fan of No. 12, Peter Capaldi. He is so terribly grumpy. But I love Pearl Mackie’s Bill and very, very (very, very, very) much hope she stays on as the Companion. A white female Doctor and a queer woman of color Companion? YES, ALL OF THE PLEASES. The casting also sets up some delicious queer possibilities. Hello, sweetie – bring on River Song, bring her now.



So it seems my plans to make an all-female reboot of everything ever (“Ghostbusters,” “Star Wars,” now “Doctor Who”) is going along swimmingly – except for that whole presidential election hiccup. *stares into the endless abyss of reality and then looks back at my television* Obviously, man babies are already upset about this because there isn’t enough to be upset about in the world already. Because, sure, a more than 2,000-year-old alien who regenerates into new bodies and travels through all of space and time fighting other aliens and future and past humans and all manner of in between in a blue police all box that is bigger on the inside is totally believable as long as he is a dude. But as soon as The Doctor is a women, hold on now, let’s get a grip and go back to reality. Right. Got it, fellas. But, hey, you know what, I am 110 percent for ruining more grown men’s childhoods to make little girls this happy today.

My daughter watching the #DoctorWho announcement. #doctor13 #DoctorWho13 pic.twitter.com/eX0w1rW4E9

— 🏳️‍🌈Jenny Trout (@Jenny_Trout) July 16, 2017

Suck it, haters. There’s a new Doctor Who in town and she is gonna turn that Tardis into a blood yurt like all women have dreamed of for always. *witch cackle* *puff of smoke* *hail of tampons*

Edited to Add: This is for all the incensed men who have somehow stumbled their way to find this completely advertising free personal site by me, your friendly neighborhood "disingenuous feminist blogger": Welcome!

My Weekend Crush

I don’t pray. I’m not a religious person, as I’ve shared before. But I do, at times, understand the inclination to seek help from some all-knowing, all-seeing something out there somwhere. And I certainly recognize the desire to find grace in our lives. Which makes such an explicitly spiritual song like “Praying” such an interesting emotional journey. I hadn’t listened to it last week when it was released because, well, it’s called “Praying.” And, again, that’s not something I do.

But then this week I took the time to give it a listen and not only is it a good song, it’s emotional and defiant and powerful in a way in a way I had not expected. Kesha’s personal and legal battles have been well publicized. She has fought her record label to be let out of her contract with her sexual abuser. But her efforts have failed and her abuser remains free despite having to endure years of sexually, physically, verbally, and emotionally abuse. The world can be terrible and cruel and just terribly cruel.

Which is why a song like “Praying” has such an impact. Before I heard it, I had wrongly assumed it was about her seeking prayer for herself. She has talked openly about how abuse made her fall into a deep depression, experience intense anxiety and develop an eating disorder. But instead of that, her song turns the tables on her abuser. She hopes he is praying, and changing. It’s an empowering song, a defiant song, an important song about how we can break but not be broken forever by those who do us grievous harm. It’s a beautiful anthem about moving on and finding strength for the countless women who have also survived sexual assault, abuse and other terrors.

This is of added import during a time when our current administrations seems intent on making things even harder for survivors. Like having the secretary of education meet with so-called men’s rights groups who believe domestic violence and sexual assault are actually over-reported and also women who report rape cases which aren’t taken to trial should be trolled. Great. Just fucking great.

“Praying” is also a reminder in our disposable pop culture that women – especially young women – are not superfluous, interchangeable baubles. Each is her own person, has her own identity. This industry tried to turn Kesha into just an easily forgotten mess of smeared mascara and leftover glitter. But she is an artist, a woman deserving of her voice and her autonomy. A woman who has endured and will continue to create. And a woman whose light cannot be stolen by anyone. Happy weekend, all.

Haught Uniform

You guys, YOU GUYS. We need to talk about Officer Way Haught’s new uniform. Her totally Haught/hot new uniform. Her full bonkers/bananapants new uniform.



Oh, Emily Andras, you’ve done it again. You’ve given lesbians, bi girls and general lovers of beautiful ladies everywhere another gift from the queer lady heavens. This uniform, THIS UNIFORM. Like, are there a lot of underwater crimes in Purgatory? Because, dude, that thing is a wet suit if I’ve ever seen one.

Old Uniform:


New Uniform:


Whatever the reason, I applaud the Purgatory Sheriff Department for its ridiculously form-hugging sartorial choices. I also applaud the ditching of the khakis. Let’s face it, no one looks their best in khakis. I mean, Officer Haught did her best and sure filled them out as nicely as possible. But, yeah, bless this wet suit/sheriff’s uniform.

The Theme Word

Look, I can’t stop thinking about “The L Word” sequel news. It’s like the ghosts of girlfriends past have come to give it one more shot. And we’re both excited and anxious and a little confused and possibly even scared by the whole thing. (To read my more salient thoughts, check out my guest column for The Hollywood Reporter here.) But I think the one thing we can all agree on is that theme song has GOT TO GO. I remember screaming at my television the first time I heard “Girls in tight dresses who drag with mustaches.” WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK. Sure, now it has taken on a certain nostalgia. Particularly all that talking, laughing, loving, breathing, fighting, fucking, crying, drinking, riding, winning, losing, cheating, kissing, thinking, dreaming. But as a piece of music, you cannot reasonably argue its merits. Like just thinking about that discordant “And loooooooooove” at the end makes me rethink my sexual orientation. (Kidding, it just makes me want to be celibate.)

Anyway. Seems I wasn’t the only one thinking about a new theme. Queer musicians Mary Lambert and Michelle Chamuel helpfully whipped up an impromptu new theme yesterday. And, you’ve got to admit, it has a ring to it. I particularly like all the giggling. But, again, anything is preferably to that damn Betty monstrosity.

Unsolicited L Word Reboot theme song demo #5 written by me and @michellechamuel. You're welcome, Ilene Chaiken. pic.twitter.com/fpTnIxcrl2

— Mary Lambert (@marylambertsing) July 12, 2017

Bottom line, Chaiken, for lesbian heaven’s sake, pick a new song.

p.s. I also still can’t get over the fact that the original Season 1 theme song was replaced for Netflix because, apparently, Showtime didn’t own the rights to the weird bubble dot music or something equally bizarre.

The Sequel Word

HOLY FUCKBALLS, THE L WORD IS COMING BACK. Yes, “The L Word” is being revived. I know, I know – we’ve all talked about it and dreamed about it and dreaded it and everything in between since the show went off the air eight years ago. But Showtime has now officially announced that they’re moving forward with a sequel that would start a few of the original cast (Jennifer Beals, Kate Moennig and Leisha Hailey, specifically) and have a new, as-yet-unnamed showrunner (Chaiken will executive produce, but not be hands on because of “Empire” … note to self, send “Empire” a muffin basket). So this isn’t theoretical, this is real life.

I have a lot (LIKE A LOT) of thoughts on this. You can read a lot of them in a guest column over at The Hollywood Reporter right now. But primarily what I want to say is this is CRAZYPANTS. And, dream big lesbians, because apparently anything can fucking happen.

p.s. Now that I have had half a second to process, give me your wish list. Who should be showrunner? What do you want to see? Good news, Jenny is still dead! (I think.)

Ab Raider

Oh, please, like I was the only lesbian frantically Googling “Alicia Vikander abs” this weekend. When the Swedish actress was tapped to star as Lara Croft in the new “Tomb Raider” reboot I thought she was a little slight for the role. And I’m not just talking body shape, but height and just stature. But then it’s near impossible to follow in Angelina Jolie’s combat boots. Still, I have to give her credit, she is definitely trying to make up for it with her devotion to crunches. Like, dayum girl. Imma do my laundry on those things.



p.s. While these abs are insanely impressive, they still are no Missy Peregrym getting out of the ice bath in “Stick It.”

My Weekend Crush

You know what this final season of “Orphan Black” needs? More Delphine. Of course, there’s very little in life that could not be considerably improved by more Delphine. So there’s that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am beyond thrilled that she was cured of Dead Lesbian Syndrome. Still a little part of me misses badass bitch, straight-haired Delphine from two seasons ago. But cheated death, secret rebel mad science adorable puppy Delphine isn’t terrible either. It’s just harder to set to song. Happy weekend, all.

Coulda Been So Kate

One of the many, many, many, countless things that have been ruined by the Trump presidency is the possibility of four (to eight) glorious years of Kate McKinnon playing the first Madame President every weekend on “Saturday Night Live.” Sure, it’s not as important as the persecution of immigrants, the rollback of civil rights, the bald-face attempts at voter suppression, the denial of climate change and so many, many, many, countless other things. But, fuck, it still makes me sad. Oh, Electoral College, how you suck.

Just Keep Hopping, Just Keep Hopping

Greetings. It’s the day after a fairly concussive holiday here in the states. I spent the last 72 hours calming my freaked the fuck out pets and reassuring them the sky isn’t falling. So if you are feeling any similar anxiety or trying to distress, I highly recommend you watch these 49 seconds of what can only be accurately called a sea bunny hopping along near the ocean floor. Yes, yes, I know it’s actually some kind of tiny octopus. But it has ears and it swim hops. So, you know, sea bunny. Have a great rest of your week, sea kittens.

Remembrance of July

Happy Fourth of July, which if you’re not from the U.S.A. is most definitely not a holiday you should worry about. But if you are from the U.S.A. I would like to take this opportunity, in between blowing shit up in your backyard, to harken us all back to an America we can actually be proud of. It hasn’t even been six months since President Obama left office, but it feels like 60 years. Sigh. Maybe we’ll get back there again some day. Yes we can, at least dream about it.

The Sexism Is Out There

Sometimes something will seem so inconceivably backwards that you have to stop and say, “Really?!?” But then, what can be deemed inconceivable and inappropriate, unacceptable and unpresidential has changed so much in the past year it has raised the “Really?!?” bar to unconscionable, untenable levels. Still, it certainly stung to hear “The X-Files” had hired yet another all-male writers room for its upcoming 11th season. Last year during its revival 10th season, all of the episodes were written by men except for the finale which is credited to show creator Chris Carter with acknowledgements to longtime series science consultant Anne Simon and fellow scientist Margaret Fearon.

But according to reports, the new season is all dudes – many of them returning or promoted from last season. Dudes, dudes, dudes, duuuuuudes. So, yeah, that’s cool. And by cool I mean seriously, guys? Look, last season was bad. Like, seriously bad. So to have the same dudes who did that come back and do this? Let’s just say I do not have high hopes.

And, looks like series star Gillian Anderson is none to pleased either. And she throws in the added kicker that only two of the show’s 207 episodes – over the course of its entire 10-year run – were directed by women. Yeah, I think that deserves a “Really?!?” and a “WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK?!?”

And 2 out of 207 eps directed by women. I too look forward to the day when the numbers are different. #TheFutureisFemale https://t.co/38SVdTfCR1

— Gillian Anderson (@GillianA) June 29, 2017

And the first one of those two women was Gillian Anderson herself – and that wasn’t until Season 7. So, for those keeping score at home, that is 205 episodes of TV directed by dudes and two, TWO, by women. And that is on top of the reported initial pay disparity between Gillian and David for the reboot. Yeah, guess who was offered less. Hint, it was not the dude. Damn, “The X-Files,” if it were not for Gillian it would be so easy to quit you. So easy.

The truth is out there, and it’s sexist as fuck.