OFF THE BOARD: Vexed in the city

Sex and the City is the physical embodiment of everything that is wrong with the universe. Yes. I said everything. If you have not heard of Sex and the City, stop reading now; not because you won’t understand what is to follow, but because you are a filthy liar and I have no patience for you.

The series is about four women who are over 30 and *gasp* single in New York City. Sarah Jessica Parker plays a successful dating columnist named Carrie, who begins each show with reflections from her work, such as: “What is love? Do I love, love? What if love doesn’t love, love? God I love my Manolo shoes.” Luckily the show has ended, but, unfortunately, it was not because of waning popularity. You may not watch it, but your friends do. All of them. It’s like an STI, except easier to catch and more destructive to your womanhood.

Just because a show considers itself scandalous enough to use the term “sex” in the title certainly does not make it sexually liberating. When its core audience begs to differ, do not listen to them; they have been brainwashed by the show’s glossy people, shiny high heels and one too many of Carrie’s fluffy, pink tutu-dresses. Sex and the City is, indeed, the most treacherous offshoot of the so-called “female empowerment TV” genre: It follows the lives of four women who are independent and have their own economic means, parading themselves as progressive simply because they can have sex with whomever they want.

The series is “unique” (or, at least, uncommon) in that it does depict women enjoying sex. Unfortunately, that is its only value. And come on, four women who spend every moment together obsessing about shopping, marriage, men and babies? Oh, the stereotypes. In the end, Sex and the City is the exact opposite of everything it claims to be: sexually enlightened, feminist and heck, even intelligent.

In one noteworthy episode, the four women break into a “debate” about which of the past presidents of the United States they would most like to sleep with. Then, over the martinis and salads, Parker’s sugary voice suddenly emerges and perceptively points out the political nature of their conversation. Apparently, the mere mention of a president’s name makes the sentence intensely political (even if the words “against a wall” or “hunk-a-licious” follow), and obviously this is not to be expected from a discussion between four successful and educated women during their lunch break. I mean, women… talking politics? Inconceivable!

All else aside, if Carrie’s lessons from Sex and the City really do boast some semblance of insight into female life, then the series finale would have probably been the most telling. In the show’s final scenes-where Carrie is finally reunited with a certain someone-the audiences are inadvertently told that at the end of every dating dilemma and relationship gone wrong, all every girl ultimately needs to find herself is a man who is “Big” (if you know what I mean).

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