Our thumbs are basically numb from texting back and forth 24/7 about everything we love (AND HATE) that's happening on our televisions, iPads, and eye glasses (hi, we think we're funny) and we thought WHY NOT SHARE THIS JOY WITH THE WORLD?!  



This show decided to be all too soon on me today, the anniversary of the election.  You guys know that I think this show is a lunatic, written by lunatics under the light of a full moon on a cursed typewriter and that 90-99% of it is just too batshit insane for life.  BUT!  There is something happening here that I can’t wrap my tender brain around.  Given the long lead times in TV production, how did the writers nail some of this shit?  Did they just have their lunatic fingers to pulse of this lunatic country?

The episode opens with the second presidential debate (“YOU’RE THE PUPPET.”).  Billie Lourd and two girls who look perfect for the remake of The Craft are watching the debate in the basement and chortling over Hillary’s inevitable win.  (Sidenote: this is the same house which contains the dead bodies of her parents...I might not be so willing to host.)  Evan Peters is pounding away at his keyboard, posting on his reddits and chans, spouting misogynistic bullshit as one does.  The girls start taunting him and he fires back and everyone yells and the dark haired girl with black lipstick (perhaps Fairuza Balk’s daughter? j/k but the resemblance is uncanny) starts ripping him as a sexually frustrated loser.  Words fail him so he just slaps the shit out of her, and she jumps up and says she’s going to press charges.  *raise the roof emoji*  Lourd is mad too and tells him he’s an asshole who fucks everything up.  

We next see him in an office, contemplating a statue of a goddess, guided by the soothing voice of...FRANCIS CONROY aka always Ruth Fischer aka Valerie Solanas’s girlfriend from a few eps ago. Turns out she’s his court appointed anger management therapist and she is here to fuck shit up.  She tells him that she loves Trump because he will be the hammer that breaks down the dam that holds back women’s rage, and once that dam breaks and women’s rage spills out, all men/turds will be obliterated and I’m like, OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU.  At first.  But then I’m like, waah wah, probably not, and also we shouldn’t murder.  She instructs Peters to similarly become a hammer to smash women’s rage open and destroy the patriarchy and be honored, someday, as a tiny statue in someone’s office.  

I’m fascinated by this flawed thesis.  As much as it makes me feel rah-rah, it troubles me at the same time.  The fear of the oppressors is always that when the oppressed rise up, they will treat the oppressors as they have been treated.  That’s basically every patriarchal man, every racist, every oligarch and tyrant’s worst fear.  And yeah, sometimes it does happen that way.  And maybe that balances the scales, or maybe it is corrosive.  Women have rage, but we do a lot to turn it inward, and society has trained us all to be good little girls and eat or not eat, wear makeup and heels, focus on our worth strictly to men as housewives or sex objects, to always be second, and to police each other.  To some extent, the election of Turd in chief has broken a dam, as witnessed by the power of the Women’s March and the recent flood of accusations about powerful men sexually harassing and assaulting women.  

And equality, to those in power, begins to feel like a theft as that power is seemingly syphoned away but whatever group is gaining equality.  That is our man Evan Peters in a nutshell.  Under the guidance of Francis Conroy, he is able to marshall those feelings and begin his power grab.  Also all his murders.  

Meanwhile, Sarah Paulson has a convo with Billie Lourd as they disassemble the ice cream truck about what happened to Paulson’s wife and Lourd’s girlfriend, Alison Pill.  Lourd thinks that Peters killed her, but Paulson is like: maybe I killed her.  

Then Peters eats all the Adderall and has storytime with his fuck bois.  This time, the story is about Charles Manson (R. I. Possible).  We get to see the murders on Cielo Drive, with Paulson, Eichner, Meadow, and Lourd as the killers and of course Evan Peters as Manson.  Once again, we are taking a vacation in a real horror, and I don’t care for it.  Paulson gets to play the most blood thirsty Manson girl, Sadie, and they go about their torture and murder gleefully.  It’s gross.  Then, we get to hear Peters’s plan: a night of a thousand Tates (taints? lol) where they’ll steal a list of pregnant ladies and murder every single one, to prove some point or to blame it on liberals or fucking something?  I don’t know.  It is incoherent, which I suppose is the point, but is also imitative fallacy 101.  Just because the character is crazy doesn’t mean the writing has to be crazy.  TRY GRAD SCHOOL SOME TIME, SHOW. (Actually, don’t try grad school.  It sucks.)

Anyway, the fuck bois and Chaz Bono roll up on a Planned Parenthood, to steal the abortion waiting lists...yeah, I don’t understand either.  But instead of doing that, they go inside and have a stab party on poor Chaz.  Peters shows up in his dildo-faced clown mask, and Chaz is sad but accepts his death to serve Peters and his cause.  Commence the stab party!  They leave poor Chaz outside Planned Parenthood with a message scrawled in blood: STOP THE SLAUGHTER.  I’m like, what?  What are you even talking about, show?  How does this pin anything on liberals?  It is a known fact that liberals love abortion.  Why would they write a message that sounds anti-abortion?  I DON’T UNDERSTAND.  It’s like the South Park gnomes’ plan.  


But with murder instead of underpants.  

Anyway, Porter is back at work but her spirit is broken, so Peters berates her for not selling the murder.  It’s terrible and I hate him so much, but Porter has been, hands down, the queen of this season.  

Then, because of the Adderall and his general psychosis, Peters’ character starts having delusions of his murdered brother, Dr. Bad Therapist.  Dr. Bad Therapist is much worse for wear, having been decomposing on a bed for a few weeks, but it seems like he might talk some sense into our lunatic.  Unfortunately, Dr. Bad Therapist loses the role as lead delusion to Peters as Charles Manson.  

Manson Peters is like, let’s fuck shit up and also there’s a mole in your org.  He manifests Kai Peters’s paranoia.  Paulson is keyed into this downward spiral and ready to exploit it.  Lourd sees it too, but wants to save Adina Porter by giving her a train ticket.  Porter is completely beaten and cowed, afraid the whole thing is a test.  Lourd’s faith in her brother weakens.  

After tearing up the basement, Peters finds a suspicious device in the couch cushion: proof of his mole.  Paulson eggs him on, and Lourd tries to talk him down.  It is, in fact, her Fitbit battery (and it totally is, which I found hilarious for some reason.)  

Francis Conroy appears to slap the shit out of Turd Peters, who has not lived up to her plan at all.  He’s killed or broken all of the women, even, in my favorite quote ever, “The unbreakable tiger, Beverly Hope” (Porter).  She’s so pissed at the way that he has subjugated women as opposed to elevating them into murder goddesses.  She has him at gunpoint, ready put the turd out of his misery, when Paulson blows her away because she is fucking bag of cat shit.  

Brother and sister have a nice slow grooming scene (shades of The Color Purple) and Lourd gently tries to talk her brother down and engineer her own escape from this rapidly sinking ship.  She shaves his head and his disgusting neck beard (the true villain of this season) while she gently begs for a way out of this fucked up situation.  He’s like, NO DICE.

She’s thrown down into the basement, where he accuses her of being the mole and chokes her to death.  It’s terrible and sucks.  I hate this show.

One of the fuck bois runs out of the room and to his car, where he hysterically pulls a wire out of his shirt and smashes the device.  Turns out, he’s the mole.  Then who should slink into the car, but Cat Shit Paulson.  She’s busted this poor fool.