u/miggovortensens

I'm aware that most of the main characters were victims of 'Flanderization' in the later seasons of the show. The way I see it, this often came at the expense of their emotional intelligence. As in: Phoebe was aloof and blunt, but didn't come across as inconsiderate or mean; Joey was never the sharpest tool in the shed, but was capable of giving sound relationship advice to the guys. Yet, ultimately, they just of became more exaggerated versions of the first draft, and were at least able to achieve some sort of professional and/or personal stability they didn't have when we first met them.

So, all things considered, I feel that Ross is the only character who 'regressed' fundamentally - which might have something to do with him starting the show as the most 'grown-up' of the bunch, already financially independent, earning enough to not need a roommate etc... He spent the entire first season dealing with the emotional toll of his divorce, the fear of becoming a father, and the insecurity of opening himself up for a new love.

His character behaved like a reasonable adult and was given plenty of material that a viewer that was learning to navigate adulthood could relate to. But at some point it seems that the writers decided to bank on David Schwimer's talent for physical comedy, and Ross's standalone storylines grew gradually sillier (don't get me started on the tanning session!). Instead of the original awkwardness to ask a woman he liked on a date, he was always putting his foot in his mouth, misreading the signs and making the worst possible move. He was basically a goof with zero social skills.

Anyway, I just wanted to share this view because the running arc of "Friends" is about maturing into adulthood, and Ross's journey is the only one that makes me feel the adult was regressing into adolescence.

Picture it: Krum, this generational Quidditch talent and a world-famous Seeker, was still a teenager keen on pursuing his education and an introvert deep thinker who first noticed Hermione in the library where he went looking for a good read and maybe a break from the hoard of starstruck girls that always followed him around.

They slowly got to know each other, and they didn’t share this even with their closest friends because they knew what they had was a special thing that only concerned the two of them. I don't think Krum had ever met a girl that knew he was famous and did not care.

And I'm sure Hermione had never met someone that noticed her for both her personality and for the woman she was becoming. (I can see how offensive Ron's remark must have been to her - not his assumption that nobody would have asked her to the Ball, but his suggestion that Krum had to be using her for some intel on Harry.)

I won't say that Krum and Hermione should have been endgame. I wish the main characters had the benefit of not marrying one of their closest friends from school because that's what the plot requires. What I will say is that Krum and Hermione were PERFECT as each other's 'first love' - not 'serious love', but that kind of feeling that I wish every teenager is lucky enough to experience.

I’m sure you all heard the anecdote about the publishers advising Rowling to drop ‘Joanne’ and coin a pen name with her initials for the first ‘Harry Potter’ book – based on whatever data they had to suggest young male readers would be less inclined to pick up a book that was written by a female author. Apparently, it worked: Rowling’s very first fan letter was from a reader named Francesca Gray – and it was addressed to "Dear Sir"!

This move, of course, was just a ploy from the publishers to give the book an early traction: it wouldn’t make any difference if Joanne “came out” as a woman to the audience after the base was built. The dream was always to parade her face everywhere in signing events and press tours if the book indeed became a hit. And that happened as soon as Philosopher’s Stone began to do well in the UK, which led the US rights being sold by a large sum: the next day, Rowling was all over the press, and the narrative around her was that of a woman who was also a struggling single mother that put everything she had behind this one idea.

But then, after the Harry Potter series was finished and Rowling’s follow-up novel (“The Casual Vacancy”) was met with lukewarm reviews, Rowling once again reinvents herself under a new pan name – this time, not with ‘gender-neutral’ initials, but under an UNMISTAKENLY masculine name, Robert Galbraith, which came with the fake backstory of “a former military man and first-time novelist” that was pushed by the publishers. That was another ploy.

Rowling supposedly wanted to see how her work would be received without the burden of her celebrity, which is fair. But the publishers of course knew that was the work of the famous JK Rowling, just as they knew the cat would soon be out of the bag. Ironically, the effort to “build” Robert Galbraith also invalidates the ‘integrity’ of the initial reception: the team pushed this book to early reviewers because they knew who was behind it, and the reviewers who went in ‘blind’ were judging it as a debut and not as the product of a well-connected figure in the publishing industry and already skilled in the ‘best-seller’ formula.

Yet I wonder WHY would Rowling pick a male identity for a book that’s essentially a crime novel, a genre built by the likes of Dorothy L. Sayers and Agatha Christie. Unlike her gender neutral ‘J.K. Rowling’ pen name, which seemed like a good strategy for an unknown children’s author (young boys might think ‘it’s for girls’, because that's how kids are sometimes), I doubt the adult target audience of her whodunit would not give the book a chance if the name on the cover was ‘Eliza Galbraith’ instead of ‘Robert Galbraith’.

That can only mean that the marketing team and Rowling herself decided that a male author – one that comes with the fake backstory – would work better for the initial press coverage: a more prestigious, intriguing reading, coming from someone who had a way more interesting military career than a 'woman could possibly have' in this context. Going with 'Robert Galbraith’ after she was set for life is the sort of stuff I can only picture Joanne doing if she fundamentally believes that presenting herself as a woman puts her in a disadvantage - until it works in her favor.

Let's recap: assuming that the 'J.K. Rowling' pen name got more kids to read the first book - and the first letter she ever got was addressed to 'Dear Sir' -, her existence as a woman only became an asset when her personal story was picked up by the media. And if the 'Robert Galbraith' alias drew attention to her other novel, it was once again her (now famous) public figure being paraded in the media that pushed the book to the best-seller list.

It's not surprising that her view on gender identity is that of a fictional facade for one to hide behind - usually because they are after attention, personal gain, or 'an easier path in life' (can you even???) until they reconnect with their "true selves". In fact, she is just coming from her own experience, because that's what she has done in her own career.

The first movie shockingly never shows Harry successfully casting a single spell. The second movie’s climax gives him a sword to fend for himself. The fourth movie removes Harry’s difficulty in mastering the ‘Accio’ spell to be able to summon the Firebolt to the tournament – and it doesn’t show him practicing more advanced spells for the next rounds of the competition, which would be important to build up his skills to lead the DA in the fifth movie (which also skips his struggles to master Occlumency with Snape). His developed abilities in the sixth movie and beyond seem almost unearned.

In the books, we get to witness Harry being introduced to most of the major skills and spells that will be significant to the story - Expeliarmus, anyone??? This is all lost in the movies - except in Prisoner of Azkaban, which is the ONLY movie that made me believe the plot was indeed unfolding in a school, and that Harry and the others were attending classes that seemed authentic to us viewers [the sequence of their first lessons with Lupin, Trelawney and Hagrid particularly stand out], and where we witnessed Harry putting on the work to improve himself and master a new skill.

The other movies gloss over this crucial element of the story.

It makes no sense to me that the final episode of the show included some individual flash-forwards of the other three housewives – Lynette rebuilding her life in New York City, Gabrielle starting her online fashion business, and Bree remarrying and entering politics –, yet we saw NOTHING of Susan’s future. We only saw her driving around the lane one last time before she moved out. I often felt that Susan was the main character that the writers struggled the most when it came to creating new storylines, but I now wonder if this ending wasn't also a requirement from some ABC executives.

As in: we know there was trouble between Teri Hatcher and Marc Cherry and the other leads, so it's not out of the realm of possibilites to consider that the network could have wanted to 'save' Susan's character - and Teri's star quality minus the paycheck of the other three - for a potential spin-off show with some other show runner? That's a guess from my part, I've heard nothing of the kind, but it seems plausible.

As some of you may now, Sara Ramirez's Tony Award-winning performance in the Broadway musical Spamalot made such an impression on some ABC executives who saw the show that they gave Sara "carte blanche" to pick any show on the network to be cast in.

Yes, Sara could have picked, let's say, Desperate Housewives, Lost or whatever other ABC hit show of the day, and the executives would have asked the show-runners to create an original role for them. Sara picked Grey's Anatomy and Shonda Rhimes subsequently created the role of Dr. Callie Torres.

This is beyond rare. It can also be unheard of - for a name that's not recognized nationwide to be given so much of leverage after the top executives watched them on Broadway.

In one of their most famous arguments, Samantha said to Charlotte that sex only requires “two people who love sex”. I’m fully behind her there! The thing is: in that very situation, Samantha was just bragging about her latest sexual experience with a man she knew nothing about.

So while she can say for sure that the sex was consensual and pleasurable, she CAN’T tell at all if this guy (or the next one) joined her in bed because he “loved sex” like she did - or because they “missed sex”, or because they were “desperate for sex”, or because they were “addicted to sex” etc etc. She sees them as disposable partners who are treating the experience exactly like she is: no strings attached, no repercussion, no marriages to be ruined etc.

She doesn't care to ask. And that's fine. It's also fine for a very close friend to see this as a dismissive, indifferent, and objectifying attitude. Yet Charlotte – often openly mocked by the others for associating sex with emotional intimacy and trust – is treated as a judgmental sex shamer whenever she speaks her mind while the other two play Switzerland.

In the early episodes, Carrie is presented as an established journalist whose column about, well, “sex and the city” gathered enough of a following for the newspaper to feature HER individually in public buses as part of their OOH advertising strategy.

These episodes suggest that Carrie’s column resonated with many New Yorkers - men and women - that were also struggling to navigate the dating world in the late 1990s. And Carrie was actively researching and investigating the subject herself, as if she was pushing the boundaries of gonzo journalism in her daily life.

Her column - based on her narration - was super candid; her readers knew her as a chain-smoker who would be down to sleep with a much younger guy because he was a good kisser and because her curiosity to see how a man from the “newer generation” would fair in bed got the best of her. And then sometimes she would wake up in a flat that looked like the backyard of Cristiane F’s housing unit in 1970s Berlin.

But after the structure of the episodes started to showcase the friend group more and more, Carrie seemed to rely on the accounts of the other three women and vaguely wonder about the 'topic of the week'. She stared at the blank page in her laptop screen, writing hypothetical questions about matters that had nothing to do with her.

The sexually adventurous Carrie from season 1 became an observant even in her personal interactions with her closest friends - how often would she hide behind puns while the other three discussed their views on sex and relationships? Her own experiences were boiled down to a broad search for 'Love'.

To be clear: I'm not complaining about the show's focus on the other characters. I'm just pointing out this came at the expense of a fundamental change in Carrie's character.

While there’s of course nothing shameful at all about how Samantha conducted her sexual life, I was rewatching some episodes of the show recently and was surprised to realize that many of Charlotte’s reactions to Samantha’s detailed accounts of her latest adventures weren't as prudish or judgmental as I thought them to be back in the day.

Now I can also interpret those scenes as Charlotte manifesting how uncomfortable she felt with the constant "oversharing". I mean, maybe Charlotte wouldn’t have stormed out of a pub if Samantha had saved the “funkiest tasting spunk” tale for when the girls were all a bit tipsy over a glass of wine one night instead of blurting this out of nowhere in broad daylight before Charlotte had even digested her lunch.

I understand that interactions like these are a comedic device, but the common perception is that Charlotte is the one who is always a prude and not that Samantha – who, again, was free to be as sexually active as she wanted – was constantly ignoring Charlotte’s stated boundaries, which can be different even between the closest of friends. So yeah, that's my current take on her character.

This is simply for academic purposes. I’m not an American, and English is not my first language. I’m currently working on a thesis about lyric adaptation, and I'm now looking further into musical theater songs - especially those from English-language musicals, which are more likely to be staged in different countries - to analyze how the contemporary, Native-speaking audience interpreted the lyrics and how an adaptor can best preserve the original intent not just in terms of the melody and the structure of the song.

(An unrelated example: I was first looking into literature translation, and I came across a two-word expression in a 19th century book; this expression is now not used or understood by contemporary English speakers, yet I discovered that it used to stand for "prolix" or "wordy" back in the day, which meant that the author's original intention was to be humorous: he was being “wordy” himself by using two words instead of one, which is something that the readers of his day understood yet current readers do not, and every translation of this book that I could find didn't pick up on the joke nor did they attempt to adapt it by using an old-fashioned expression from their own language that would seem unusual to the present-day reader.)

Going back to the matter at hand... I thought “Newsies” might be a good musical for me to look into a further, because it covers the newsboys' strike of 1899 from a contemporary perspective, and the songs were written for the 1992 family-oriented movie and then featured in the Broadway musical 20 years later. And I’m particularly interested in your understanding of the expression “Carrying the banner”, which is of course the title of one of the musical’s most well-known songs. 

Since I’m not a Native English speaker, I first understood it as the act of “carrying the headline” – moving the papers and the news of the day around the city. At this point in the musical, we don’t know the characters will go on strike if we know nothing about the plot at all, so it works. It also works in a broader sense down the line, in terms of “carrying signs” as a protest or demonstration. But I also discovered that, in a historical context (19th-early 20th Century), individuals who walked the streets all night or slept outside because they were homeless were called “banner-carriers”.

So, this is where I ask for help of you English speakers who first saw the musical on Broadway in the 2012 run (not familiar with the work before, without having seen the 1992 film, since this group is potentially a different target for my work). Where you familiar with the historical context of "carrying the banner"? What was the immediate association you made when you heard it in the song? And how you would describe its meaning to someone who has no idea what "carrying the banner" means? (If you feel comfortable sharing your current age and the year you saw the musical on Broadway, I'd appreciate it, but that's not a requirement.)

Many thanks in advance!

This is the objective recap...

PoA: Winter, 1993. Hermione and Harry stayed in Hogwarts during the Christmas break.

GoF: Summer, 1994. Hermione got to the Burrow 1 or 2 days before Harry / Winter, 1994. Hermione and Harry stayed in Hogwarts during the Christmas break.

OotP: Summer, 1995. Hermione got to Grimmauld’s Place presumably weeks before Harry / Winter, 1995. Hermione and Harry were in Grimmauld’s Place during the Christmas break.

HBP: Summer, 1996. Hermione got to the Burrow 1 or 2 days before Harry / Winter, 1996. Spent Christmas break with the Grangers while Harry went to the Burrow.

Overall, that doesn't even make up for the next summer when she erased her parents' memories and went to the Burrow before Harry's rescue plan was executed. The Grangers are sidelined to a point - because it's probably easier to already have Hermione in the second location Harry is eventually taken for the rest of the summer - that I find it hard to picture a reasonable bond between parent and child here.

There's no way the doctor that was responsible for Derek's death would agree to be involved in Meredith's medical license trial as if he had idea that Meredith - also a well-known surgeon on her own merits - was also the wife of the world-class surgeon in his field who happened to die on his watch.

I have a cat, and he is an indoor cat, and he lives happily and comfortable in my apartment. Last night I heard a cat making noise in the hall and, what do you know, there was indeed a cat I had never seen before.

I am aware that its against our building's policy for any pet owner to let their pets roam free in the common areas, but I wasn't even sure if this was a stray that managed to get in, and even if it wasn't, I assumed it was someone's cat that got out when they opened the door or something.

So of course I took the cat to my place – and it was an inconvenience, because my cat is not used to other cats being around and I had to keep them in different rooms. And my only option was to get in touch with the superintendent because he was the only one who could know who this cat belonged to (I don't have the contact of the other residents).

Anyway, the superintendent was able to reach the owner of the cat and told her where her cat was. But she came by my apartment and instead of thanking me she was pissed because I took her cat to my place.

She said she was worried sick because she often lets the cat get out to explore the surroundings and walk in the garden and what not and he always finds his way back – except this time, because of course I had locked him inside my apartment. Plus she acted as if I had “reported” her for breaking the rules when I went straight to the superintendent.

I’m torn between thinking I overstepped or if she was the real AH here.