Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Weekend Mashup: Downton Anarchy

The only theme that was consistent this past weekend was inconsistency itself.

If I had to concisely summarize the weekend, I'd choose the following phrases:
  • Downton Anarchy 
  • Champagne bar and a pickle jar full of butter
  • Rok-Unicorn
(I shall leave the last two phrases for future blog posts...)

I was once asked by a friend, "So, what's your type?" I, of course, said, "Type of what?" "What type of guy are you most drawn to?" And rather than having a wonderful canned answer about a charming gentleman with strong morals and biceps, I said, "Uh. I don't know." 

At the time, I feared that this was a cop out answer.  But after this weekend, I realize that, unlike Christian Grey, I probably don't have a type.  My usual tastes run the gamut from Zombies to Business Theory to Teddy Roosevelt to Social Economics and back to vampires and witches.  (always back to vampires and witches)

And this weekend, I spent many hours entangled in the lives of both motorcycle gangs and 20th Century British Aristocracy.

Random pairing? Yes, of course. (did you not see the list above?) (I bet you are very curious about that pickle jar full of butter, huh?) Now, please forgive me as I delve into an embarrassing level of depth on this fairly uneventful subject.

Downton Anarchy: "How is possible to love both shows so much?"

(OR "Reading way too much into the fact that I deeply enjoy two wildly popular TV shows..." - A relatively ho-hum analysis of something no one cares about by HauteMess)

These two shows might as well be star crossed lovers - they are from different worlds and could never co-exist. Except they do...in my heart.  My dream man is a little bit Jax Teller (super hot, buff, sweet motorcycle) and a little bit Matthew Crawley (finished high school, shaves his face, no prison record).

They really aren't really so different.  Both characters follow a similar archetype; perhaps I am drawn to the "reluctant prince." (note: that is probably not a real archetype...I totally made that up) 

The "Reluctant Prince" is a somewhat rebellious, younger man who is slated to take the throne of power due more to his birthright than his desire.  He doesn't want to let everyone down, but he doesn't want to lose himself in the process either. (Spoiler alert: if the Godfather taught us anything, it is that Michael Corleon was destined to lose himself and become an asshole no matter how sweet he was in his youth) (oh shit...did I just psycho-analyze my taste in men via my choice in TV crushes? gross.) (oh, please Matthew Crawley, don't start murdering people.)

Other things both shows have in common...

- Enduring love: Handsome blond men that pine over smart brunettes...and other than a couple short-lived distractions, you never have to doubt their love for the heroines of the show.
- Sassy matriarchs who steer the young heroine's development (p.s. I would like to place the Dowager Countess in a room with Jemma Teller and see what happens next...)
- A seemingly male dominated power structure, and women who subtly hold all the power
- Near constant scheming to maintain control over territory/property
- War (okay, it may be a stretch to compare World War I to random shoot outs...but still, both shows have a high mortality rate.)
- Both shows involve societal structures so different from my own that they might as well be Narnia.

Yet, the glaring differences between the shows...

- Facial Hair: God, the Men of Mayhem just have so. much. facial. hair.  They honestly look like they would smell worse than even a turn of the century British butler...
- General regard for appearance: The women of Downton take great care their appearance - with maids ensuring that never a hair is out of place.  And Jemma Teller looks like skunk trash.
- 'Sons' makes me feel like I need to re-read Hamlet (since I, um, "forgot" to in High School) and 'Downton' makes me feel like I need to re-read history books (seriously, who fought who in WWI?) (and how is it possible that I was the valedictorian of my high school??)

In Summary

Basically, my borderline obsession with the early 1900s and modern day motorcycle clubs means that I am desperately seeking a blond heir to a family estate/business to either shave his face or not shave his face while his mom bosses me around, and he reluctantly becomes the leader, potential mass murderer...
or I really should have paid more attention in high school.
And tuxes are superior to motorcycle cuts.

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