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Tuesday , December 14, 2010
Fuck, Kill, Marry: Mad Men Edition
You know the rules. Now tell us who you'd fuck-kill-marry at Sterling Cooper/Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce.
KAT SAYS: FUCK DON DRAPER, KILL PAUL KINSEY, MARRY KEN COSGROVE
DON DRAPER. Obviously! Fucking is all Draper is really good for. I don't want to kill him because he's too good-looking, and I'd never marry him because he's a lousy husband. But clearly a guy who gets as much tail as he does on the show must be doing something right. If I were in the Mad Men universe, I'd want to find out what exactly that "something" is.
PAUL KINSEY. The thing about Kinsey is that he seems all progressive and artsy and smart, but he's got the personality of a terminal disease. He's like one of those douchelords who say they're all feminist and pro-woman, but when their girlfriends or wives start getting some mega-success, they pull some shit to sabotage their glorious moment. It's not like dudes like this do it on purpose (for the most part), but deep down their progressive politics are a patriarchal indulgence that ultimately condescends to the very people they think they're making equal to themselves. They can afford to extend beneficence to those beneath them because they think they'll always be on the top of the heap. The minute you actually begin to prove your equality or superiority in a field they see as theirs, though, they LOSE IT. (I mean, did you see how ultra-competitive he got with Peggy once she got promoted to copywriter? Sheesh.) You just know that if you were a writer who was married to Kinsey and you just happened to be published before he did, he'd go NUTS in the most annoying passive-aggressive way. He'd belittle your writing, saying, "Well, yes, it's good for women's subject matter. But it's not serious Art like my lousy one-act play 'Death is My Client.'" And if your book was a bestseller, he'd kind of scoff and go, "Well, teenage girls and/or housewives buy just about anything." And he'd work late, leaving you with the kids to take care of all by yourself, knowing that it'd eat away into your writing time. One of the best things about Mad Men (besides amazing characters and writing and a keen sense of visual style) is how it's a show about American patriarchy's last moments of complacency. Kinsey's gonna be one of those dudes whose ego demands that he be "progressive," but when push comes to shove, he's going to be a double-crosser who ultimately treats women like shit because when patriarchy falls apart, it's going to collapse right on top of him. I'd much rather deal with a straight-up blowhard sexist fuck than someone who pretends to be on my side. So yeah: kill Kinsey.
KEN COSGROVE. Everyone is always so surprised when I pick Cosgrove! But I kind of love Ken Cosgrove. I just think that I'd get along best with Cosgrove, and people really underestimate the quality of getting along with someone in order to be married to them. (I mean, I've seriously seen friends of mine shack up and marry people they love but somehow don't really get along with, and do you know something? THEY'RE ALL GETTING DIVORCED NOW.) Sure, he's kind of a frat boy pig and a major skirt-chaser. But he's very amiable and has a weird sense of honor, like how he doesn't really get pulled into the stupid office politics of "Mad Men." He was a little mean about Peggy's weight gain, but when she got promoted, he treated her with way more equanimity than that loser Kinsey. ("How dudes treat Peggy Olsen" is like my weird barometer in determining if I like a particular Mad Man. Or man in general, I guess.) Plus, aren't you DYING to read "Tapping a Maple on a Cold Vermont Morning"? I know I am, and I'd marry Cosgrove just to get a chance. I kind of imagine Cosgrove and I would shack up in some cute little West Village apartment and type away on our Smith-Coronas together, him writing surprisingly pensive, finely observed prose while I write NOGOODFORME 60s-style, which is probably an unholy, glorious breeding of Sex and the Single Girl and Mary McCarthy with a twist of J.D. Salinger just for the heck of it. We wouldn't be the type of writerly couple to discuss our writing, but he wouldn't be a competitive pig like Kinsey about it. I'd like to think we'd live happily ever after after a few bumps on the road, of course, but even if we didn't, he's just so amiable, even-tempered and good-spirited that I'd like him forever. Aw, I'd totally falling for him as I write this! Cosgrove, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
LIZ SAYS: FUCK PETE CAMPBELL, KILL NO ONE, MARRY HARRY CRANE
PETE CAMPBELL. Cuz I think it's so hot when dudes are all the same color, and have creepily youthful voices, and bring rifles to work, and throw roast chickens out windows, and claim to have invented direct marketing. Smarminess isn't usually my bag, but for Pete "Paul McCartney" Campbell, I make so many exceptions. A thing like that!
NO ONE. First I was gonna kill Lois Sadler, cuz she's so annoying and also I think it's lame when people run over other people's feet with lawnmowers. But then I felt bad for murdering the only woman featured in this post, and compensating for that by telling you I also want to be Super-Duper-Extra BFFs with Joan Holloway-Harris, just regular BFFs with Peggy, and maybe second or third cousins with Betty Draper didn't really seem to cut it. So then I was going to kill Lee Garner Jr.: "You mess with Sal Romano, you mess with me!" I would have shouted, shaking my fist, had I found a usable Lee Garner Jr. photo on Google Image Search. And for maybe half a second I even thought about killing Sally Draper - but that's way too mean and evil, and anyway Sally's kinda starting to win me over, the lispy little brat.
So: I kill no one. Although it'd be kinda cool to kill Pete Campbell.
HARRY CRANE. Harry Crane? Adorable! Oh how I'd love to snuggle up with that snugglebug, that big ol' teddy bear of a man. And it'll be so sweet when he takes our kids on a fishing trip and totally tips the boat over upon standing up to reel in a trout, and then wears his "Kiss the Cook" apron while grilling said trout for dinner later on. Such a delightful little lug!
OH WHO AM I KIDDING: I want to marry Pete Campbell, and dance the Charleston with him at Roger Sterling's country club soiree, and surprise him at the office just to hear him cutely exclaim "Lovely! What are you doing here?" Pete and I would so make a great team; I would so handle this situation a thousand times more beautifully than Actual Mrs. Campbell. "I mostly read the classics" - ewww! Shut your face, Trudy. I should've killed you when I had the chance.
LAURA SAYS: FUCK DRAPER KILL DRAPER MARRY DRAPER
DON DRAPER: Being a fiercely independent, brainy, and nontraditionally attractive brunette, I'm such the archetypal "Don Draper Mistress." As such, Don Draper would meet me, and most certainly want to screw me behind his dumb wife's back.
"Okay!" I'd say, because Don Draper is hot shit.
I mean, there would probably be a part of Draper and I that happened in between the meeting and the screwing. We'd go out on a "date." I'd order a Campari and soda, and he'd respect that, and then I'd ask him if he'd heard about this up-and-coming British band named the Beatles, and he'd be all "I'm a darkly sexy advertising executive" and I'd be all, "I'm a darkly sexy writer," only I wouldn't actually say that, because that's a really try-hard move. (Wouldn't it be funny if that's what I actually said to men, to get them to like me? I'm Laura Jane. I'm a darkly sexy writer. You down????) Anyway, then I'd sleep with Don Draper, and, for about three months in late 1963, we'd have a really rocking/raucous mistress/master honeymoon phase, like how it was when he first met Rachel Menken- or any of his mistresses, before he tires of them. Plus, thanks to Sunday night's episode, we now know that Don Draper likes to get slapped in the face while he's doing it. Which is a service I could totally provide...
DON DRAPER: ...Because I'm filthy, and also because I hate Don Draper! Sometimes. The worst part about hating Don Draper is that I don't really hate Don Draper. I love/am in love with Don Draper; I just damn him and the stupid decisions he makes. I see so much of myself in Draper. That's why I'd want to kill him, with my gun. People who remind me of myself are the most annoying fucking people in the world. They're so selfish and self-aggrandizing and self-involved and self-absorbed and darkly sexy. "Get over the Jantzen account," I'd moan, rolling my eyes, "Get over your life. Get over Betty Draper. Get over blonde women in general. Get over your dark past. Get over your annoying astrological profile of Scorpio sun-Capricorn moon-Scorpio rising that I just invented in my head for you. Get over everything in the world, except me. Laura Jane, your favourite mistress of all time."
DON DRAPER: Remember that time I said that Johns should marry Johns? And remember how Don Draper is the John Lennon of Mad Men? And remember how I'm also John Lennon, kind of? Well, I did, and he is, and I am. So that's what happens, on Mad Men Season Five. Don Draper marries his favourite mistress ever: me. And then we'd have a semi-tumultuous but wildly darkly sexy relationship that lasted FOREVER, and, the best part of all is that I'd get to be my dream daughter Sally Draper's stepmom, and then Sally Draper would finally achieve her lifelong goal of acquiring a non-lame female role model. Not counting the time I cheated on Draper with Roger Sterling in 1968, our marriage would be conflict-free, because Don Draper and I create our own conflicts, within ourselves. I'd slap him in the face during sex all the way up until he died of cirrhosis of the liver in 1982, and- most importantly- we'd never, ever, ever die of boredom.
PS: Also, I think "Laura Jane Draper" is a really cool name.
PPS: Wouldn't it be so wicked if I got the words "FUCK DRAPER KILL DRAPER MARRY DRAPER" tattooed in Olde English font across my upper back? Kind of?
Tags: Mad Men
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