There’s no way in hell you haven’t been privy to the fury, disgust, outrage, disbelief or, in some cases, delight and high-fives, over this past Sunday’s Girls episode. It’s virtually impossible not to have it in your face even if you don’t watch the show. The haters amped up the hate in the last few days, and left few unscathed.
How could a gorgeous man like Joshua (played by Patrick Wilson), possibly want to fuck, let alone spend a couple days with Lena Dunham‘s sometimes grating, and always self-involved, character Hannah? Shit. Did I just give something away? Well, like I said there’s no way in hell you can possibly be in the dark about this at this point, so I’m not apologizing. I’m not even sorry that I’m not sorry!
It’s unbelievable how invested people seem to be in what we saw on HBO a couple days ago. Every single person and their mother seems to have a take on the episode; it’s actually shocking.
On one end we have those who screamed at the TV, “Fuck yeah, Hannah! This is the best! This is how shit happens! THIS IS REAL LIFE!” That group was fun, cheerful and supportive. But then there were the others; the evil basement-dwelling trolls who weren’t buying what Dunham and crew were selling. It was that latter group that scoffed at the idea that a 42-year-old man who has looks, education and wealth in the bag would want to spend any time with Hannah. The critics on the subject were cruel and appalling, with many considering the episode some sort of dream sequence that was as far from the reality-based themes of the past episodes. It was, again, shocking that people could get so riled up about a TELEVISION SHOW, and really impressive that Dunham hit a major nerve with so many people.
It was also this group — the haters — that failed to see what was really going in episode five, which was appropriately titled “One Man’s Trash.” Simply put: It was a very likely scenario between two emotionally fucked up people who needed each other desperately in that moment, and went for it thanks to a sexual attraction that doesn’t need to be explained or justified. You can see it in Joshua’s eyes, this utter intrigue, when Hannah admits to the bizarre thrill that comes with dispersing the trash from Cafe Grumpy in other garbage cans around the neighborhood. It’s an interesting lust for a foreign world; the same lust that, I imagine, propelled Hannah to kiss Joshua (look at this grown-up life!)… thus throwing the entire world out of balance and forcing all of us to reconsider what we know to be right and wrong.
Have we forgotten that sexual attraction, real animalistic need to both fuck and be intimate with another human being, is often steeped in components that don’t even flirt with such trivial, surface material like looks? Have we? As much as I would love to school an angry blogger who hates on Dunham’s body as if it’s their job, I’m not even going to get involved. Both sides have been tackled and there’s no convincing either one to convert. Basically, Girls has turned us all into religious fanatics. Awesome.
So while the world guessed at exactly who the devastatingly handsome Patrick Wilson would fuck, with some of them guessing his wife’s identity wrong, there was a little voice of reason from the Twittersphere. When Twitter user @IreneDavies (who has since deleted the tweet) tweeted, “Patrick Wilson is so hot he would never do Lena Dunham,” she got herself one hell of a surprise response:
Who is Dagmara Dominczyk? Oh, just Wilson’s “size 10, muffin top & all” wife. Boom.
And what we have right there, my friends, is score for the curvy girls — in case anyone is keeping track. But seriously though, the ongoing controversy over Dunham’s looks and size aside, don’t we all need to take it down a notch on this topic? Isn’t it old by now? I know I’m yawning, and it’s not because it’s 328am while I write this post.
I think next Monday morning we should all resolve to talk about something else — like maybe how upsetting it is that Jessa no longer has those cute puppies that her soon-to-be ex-husband gave her. Thoughts? I think that’s far more stimulating than an argument over who will bang who based on looks and all that malarkey. That’s just boring talk. Now excuse me while I undress for my ping-pong match.