*WARNING: It is impossible to comprehensively present how I have been tormented by ASP for the last seventeen years without Gilmore Girls and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (season two) spoilers. If you do not want to be spoiled, you should not read this article. I assure you; however, that unlike Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life, THIS will bring you joy.
In many pilot episodes, writers define characters by portraying them as caricatures that are later tamped down once personalities are defined. The way characters interact with their environment and each other is usually presented with the same tenderness as Lennie petting a mouse. Amy Sherman-Palladino, the creator of Gilmore Girls, fully formed her characters without squeezing too hard and wrote the best pilot of all time.
In 42 minutes, one knew exactly who each character was and how they would respond to certain stimuli. In 42 minutes, I knew I was 60% Emily: graceful, tough, demanding of perfection, and endlessly annoyed by the inferiority of others; 30% Lorelai: silly, lover of pop culture and Marc Jacobs bags; and 10% Rory: enthusiastic about education.
After six seasons, the characters I thought I knew became unrecognizable. Rory dropped out of Yale! Lorelai dropped onto Christopher!
Why is this happening?
Why is this happening to me?
My goodness, it is obvious.
Amy Sherman-Palladino hates me!
I have concluded that Amy came across my livejournal from high school and was offended by my colorful commentary regarding the season four finale. Rory Gilmore, a thoughtful rule-follower, behaved recklessly and– in my opinion– out of character. Instead of allowing this to be an aberration, a careless mistake by the writers, Amy decided to prove me wrong. It was not a mistake! This IS Rory Gilmore. And she would sabotage the entire series just to prove that she knew exactly who Rory Gilmore was and I didn’t know her. I never knew her.
Gilmore Girls ended in season seven with a different showrunner that attempted to create something papier-mache from the scraps Amy left.
During the succeeding decade, I eventually learned to feel joy again. I re-watched the show several times and ignored season six. As soon as I felt my trust issues dissipate, Amy Sherman-Palladino picked up a bat and swung at that papier-mache heap (that looked like a karaoke machine) and nothing but Mary Jane candy and black licorice fell. Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life was released on Netflix, becoming the worst thing to happen to civilization in November 2016. What was salvaged in season seven was irreparably destroyed.
Rory is aimless and entitled!
Lorelai is petty and selfish!
And Emily?…well, still perfection.
[The analysis and extensive complaints related to the second season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel have been redacted due to length.]
After two lovely seasons, Amy threw a grenade and it detonated within 3 minutes leaving me shell shocked, furious and covered in the ash of dreams unfulfilled. I looked like a fool!
Amy has manipulated me with such precision that she clearly follows my social media accounts.
Perhaps, Amy is overworked? Maybe she is simply a terrible story-teller?
No.
That is not it.
She just hates me.
The easiest explanation is the most straightforward.
Amy, if you are reading this– and I think it is clear you are– I apologize for what I said in 2003.
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