Dancing fool

Over the weekend, I had a bit of a technological freak out when I accidentally unplugged my iPhone in the middle of a software update. Pro Tip: Bad idea, really bad idea. That forced an entire system restore, which forced me to fret for three hours while everything reninstalled, which forced me to worry about how long it had been since my last backup, which forced me to think about what I could have lost on my phone. I was pretty sure I’d updated since returning from my vacation. But I wasn’t sure if I’d synched since Pride. Now, I’m sure at this point you’re thinking, “Snarker, where the fuck are you going with this?” And that’s a very good question.

Because where I’m going with this is that I also realized if I hadn’t synched since Pride, that might not be the worst thing in the world because then some somewhat incriminating dancing photos/videos might not be on my phone anymore. Because as enthusiastic as I can be about dancing given the right mix of atmosphere and adult beverages, I’m not entirely sure it’s something I should save for posterity. Yet, after my restore finished, I was oddly relieved to see that I had lost only two apps, and all of my photos and videos – even the embarrassing dancing ones – were back. Sometimes, dorky dancing can be more delightful than the most graceful, most beautiful choreography. Not cooler or sexier, mind you. But often more spontaneous and ecstatic. So in honor of my recovered cache, here is an ode to the joy of dorky dancing.

Buffy & Company

When the Scooby Gang dances, the world smiles. And often is saved.

Tina Fey

Liz Lemon, the best dorky dancer since Elaine Benes.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus

Of course, no one can top the original.

Amy Poehler

That’s 1,000 extra bonus cuteness points for you, Amy Poehler.

Paget Brewster

That settles it, I would like dancing Paget to be my spirit animal.

p.s. And, no, you cannot see my own dorky dancing videos. I said I was happy they were back, not that I wanted to share. I’m not crazy.

That final frontier

This is the story of how I accidentally became a sci-fi fan. I say accidentally because – truth be told – I never really liked sci-fi that much growing up. Sure, I loved “Star Wars.” But “Star Wars” isn’t so much science fiction as it is fairy tale complete with princesses, rouges, black-clad villains and teddy bears (the Ewoks were teddy bears, right?). I never got into “Star Trek” (please note, I am not denigrating “Star Trek.” Live long and prosper, Trekkers). Basically, I stayed away from almost every show with “Star” in the title. For some reason, I felt a little snobby about it. I like serious dramas. I don’t like silly science fiction.

And then it happened. Slowly, but surely, I started liking silly science fiction. First “The X-Files.” But I rationalized that away as more of an ongoing mystery than a sci-fi geekfest. And then “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” which while not actually sci-fi, does lump together with the larger world of fantasy. But the thing about Buffy was it wasn’t so much about the vampires as it was about the real monsters we face every day trying to make it to adulthood.

But then I just kept adding more sci-fi shows. “Fringe.” “Dr. Who.” “Dollhouse.” “Firefly.” “Torchwood.” “Lost Girl.” “Warehouse 13.”

What is it about these shows? Why do they interest me so? Well, in part, the fantasy. Time travel. Space travel. Immortal tendencies. Bisexual succubus tendencies. And, well, Myka and Helena’s gigantic lesbian tendencies. But, to be honest, it’s not so much the escape I crave. Because while good sci-fi can provide that with its laser blasters and mind erasers and blue police boxes, I think when done well what it really gives us is a chance to look with clear eyes at our own humanity. Something about adding little green men (or their metaphysical equivalent) allows us to step back from the ordinary, up-close messiness of life and just see our human race for what it is. Beautiful. Flawed. Crazy as all fuck.

And, just as important, I think science fiction is a genre that finally allows women to be on equal footing with men. Not all science fiction, mind you. But a lot, especially more recently. Women are allowed to be in charge. They’re allowed to be strong. They’re allowed to be important – essential even. Basically, they’re allowed to save the world. They’re very rarely just the girlfriend or just the best friend. They’re more often a secret agent or badass or both. And that, that is pretty damn awesome.

Gina Torres, a high priestess of science fiction badassery, famously praised the genre for giving actresses like her who don’t fit a mold a happy home:

“When you fall within the cracks, you thank God for sci-fi, because they’ll give you a gun, and they’ll say, ‘Go over there and conquer that world. You kick some ass, girl!’”

Go kick some ass, indeed. Bring it, sci-fi. I’m all yours.