3) The View: “Big, fat, lesbian, loud Rosie attacks innocent, pure Christian Elisabeth.”
The scariest part about the infamous Rosie vs. Hasselbeck quarrel of 2007 isn’t the actual arguing. The terrifying part is that if you watched it live, it was as if you had been engulfed in a cloud of nonsense where time had lost all meaning.
The five-minute segment lasted three days with Rosie saying things like, “I asked you a question!”
And Elisabeth Hasselbeck retorting, “I asked you a question.”
And Rosie saying, “You’re too cowardly to answer.”
And Hasselbeck going, “I’ll tell you what’s cowardly: asking a ‘rhetorical’ question.”
Finally, Joy Behar notices that it is next week. “Are there no commercials on this show?” she asks.
The arguing continues.
“Who is directing this show? Let’s go to commercial!” Behar says. “Let’s go to commercial!”
If she hadn’t broken the spell, we might still be in that trance, watching The Lesbian vs. The Republican until the end of time.
2) The L Word: Bette Porter reviews Lez Girls.
After an entire day of being compared to the sexually predatory, emotionally abusive lothario “Bev,” Bette Porter settles into bed with a copy of the New York Times bestseller, Lez Girls.
As Bette flips violently through page after page of Jenny’sroman à clef, rabbits and chipmunks all over Southern California begin to take cover. Birds fly into windows as they try to escape. Then, from the blacker-than-black clouds that have formed above her house, Bette speaks:
If you know Bette at all, you are trembling, because it is likely — nay, probable — that Bette is going to murder Jenny with her bare hands.
1) Bad Girls: Helen Stewart leaves Larkhall — forever.
There is no denying that Helen Stewart pulls some scary faces and barks some scary commands during her tenure at Larkhall, but the most terrifying moment in lesbian television comes when she walks away from the prison for the last time.
After telling Nikki to get on with her life and forget about her, Helen exits, and chances one last look up at Nikki’s cell window. Her face is chilling; it says what your heart refuses to believe: She’s really going to leave Nikki forever!
“Would it have been worth it, after all?” T.S. Eliot asks. “After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets / After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor— / And this, and so much more? —”
Would it have been worth the longing gazes, the loaded questions, the stolen embraces, the fights, the wounds, the prison breaks? If Helen leaves us (and Nikki) forever, would it have been worthwhile?
No! No, it would not! Helen, don’t go! Helen, come back!
Not heeding our (or Nikki’s) cries, Helen Stewart turns and leaves Larkhall for the last time. Never have more lesbians been so afraid that our world would never be the same.