Leo season — or late summer, if you’re not in the business of impressing lesbians — is usually a straightforwardly bitchin time, for me anyway. Sex, drugs, cross-country moves.
But this year, something’s been… amiss. Askew. Off-kilter, if you will.
Venus is retrograde, fuckers, and it’s ravaging the collective unconscious like so much mountain dew to a rat.
WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME??? you scream.
Shhhhh, shh shh shh, I say. For just five dollars a month on Patreon you can help us keep the mics on and keep giving you premium content. Now make sure to like, comment, hit that bell, and let’s dive in.
OK, so venus being retrograde is supposed to like, fuck up our shit, and give us anhedonia, and make us reflect on our fuckass patterns, and blah blah Magnet Book blah blah. But this year’s manifestation appears to be very specific and buckets of fun for the whole family: everyone and their mother is backsliding.
Unfortunately, if my ex and I took one step outside the bounds of the Hays Code it would start with a shotgun marriage in a fast-casual Mexican joint and quickly end in murder-suicide.
(Don’t ask who’s the top and who’s the bottom, ask who’s the murder and who’s-)
And I’ve, uh, creeped up the Kinsey scale since my prior substantive flings. So I’m benched this season.
This is a real bummer for me, partly because I love to be a part of things, and partly because backsliding is one of my favorite activities in the whole world. So since those who can’t do, write “”””cultural”””” “”””criticism,”””” I hope you’ll let me blow off my abundant steam by constructing a comprehensive explanation of the national (in-the-)mood. It’s very long. I have a lot of steam.
When did venus retrograde start?
I don’t fucking know, sometime. Recently. After Barbie but before we all started feeling all frisky in an unnerving way. It’s more of a feeling than a time, you see
OK, July 22. I googled it. Do you enjoy being spoon fed?
What does it mean?
Venus = kissy kissy
Retrograde = go backward
Venus + Retrograde =
I’m not feeling anything!
WELL, BULLY FOR YOU THEN!
How do you know this is not just you, personally, wanting to kissy kissy go backward?
So glad you asked, hater.
If astrology isn’t real, then why, in the span of a week, has the G7 of hegemonic monoculture girlhood very publicly backslid?
Taylor Swift stalked harassed ambushed by former king of her heart Karlie Kloss at the Eras Tour; caved (classic)
Carrie Bradshaw u-hauled with surefire missionary enjoyer Aidan, her last significant ex standing, on And Just Like That
Olivia Rodrigo continued skipping merrily to her EGOT by unleashing backslide banger to rule them all, rivaled only by “Mamma Mia” itself, “bad idea right?” accompanied by Criterion Collection bait
These are SEISMIC BACKSLIDES.
More on Olivia below, but in my years of compiling a comprehensiveaccount of the songs in the great annals of backslide bop history, I have scarcely encountered a backslide joyride so formidable. Not to mention, I recently left The Industry,
where it is evidently common knowledge that Olivia Rodrigo Release Days are international bank holidays on which nothing else is to be released, lest it be ignored and lost to the sands of time, dissolving into sea foam as if it were never there a’tall. So, basically, the midsummer high holiday of music is a backslide asteroid. During venus retrograde. Mm.
Carrie, meanwhile. This is a backslide, what, like, fucking 20 years in the making? Until AJLT, people had been debating whether Carrie should be with Aidan instead of Big for like twenty years. And then she does the most Carrie thing of all time, EMAILING this motherfucker “HEY STRANGER,” and then the show shocks us all by having it WORK and having them FUCK VORACIOUSLY and MOVE IN TOGETHER. We thought we’d get a glimpse of (kind eyes gentle giant actor name) and a catchphrase (what was primordial West Elm Caleb But Good’s catchphrase?) and be on our merry way. NO! This is a FRANCHISE CHANGING, SEASON-REVOLVING BACKSLIDE!
And Taylor. This one is close to home. This one feels like my heart put its heel on the dangerous part of the razor scooter brake. I can’t explain the whole thing. I don’t have the heart. Sitting here at this laptop alone? It’s too bleak. I couldn’t bear it. Read this definitive account by a brilliant genius.
OK, now that you have the resources to educate yourself — now that you know Karlie seemingly abandoned Alison and their years-long album-spawning great love for dinner at the Kushners
and Alison wrote closure about her, which you have to flee the county if someone does, and Alison also wrote two full albums full of “fictional” “fabricated” “narrative” “made-up” “stories” about mourning the loss of the love of her life who betrayed her, followed by another “deeply personal” “autobiographical” album with the exact same themes. So all of this happens. They haven’t been seen together since the Reputation tour in 2018. Those of us who accompanied them in their proselytization of the Gal Pal tradition at the highest levels of Sweetgreen Society, forever changing our lives, ruining our closest friendships, and inducing a Pavlovian sobbing response to “put your lips close to mine,” packed up, nursed our wounds, and tried to put the whole thing past us. We moved on. We grew up, got married, got bored, got buried. We even got pretty bummed when Taylor and Joe broke up! He seemed nice! She thinks he knows! Cute!
Then all last week the Eras surprise songs had all Alison’s hits about “not wanting you like a best friend,” “looks up and says ‘you’re my best friend,’” blah blah blah. I was like, OK Alison, suspish, but whatever. It was also Karlie, noted Leo’s, birthday. So, like, sure, yeah, Alison, makes sense. Commemorate. I too tried to celebrate my ex’s birthday from afar, but then it turned out the animal shelter I wanted to donate to in her name was a kill shelter. So. Moving on. Classic Alison cool math games. Fun with dates.
But then. On August 9, 2023. A second pearl harbor hits the kaylor community. Karlie Kloss shows up at the last show of the first U.S. leg of the Eras Tour. And not kicking it with Adam Sandler in the VIP tent. IN THE PEASANT SECTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST, EXPOSED! RIDING IN A DROP TOP FUCKING CONVERTIBLE THROUGH DALLAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GENUINELY CONCERNED FOR HER SAFETY IN THAT ENVIRONMENT!!!!!!!! DID ALISON INVITE HER? DOES ALISON KNOW SHE’S THERE? IS IT INSENSITIVE OF ME TO USE NOT ONE BUT THREE CANONICAL AMERICAN TRAGEDIES TO EXPLAIN A SUPERMODEL ATTENDING A CONCERT? WHAT IS GOING ON?
And then she moves down to VIP at some point, and she’s having a jolly time, and then after the show Alison is beaming to the point of GLOATING as she walks backstage with a glass of wine, and someone on her team is carrying a second glass of wine and what appears to be KARLIE’S PURSE?????????????????????????
I have never felt so revved up and impotent in my life. I felt like when Lightning McQueen got booted. It was jouissance, I swear to god. My entire twitter feed was flipping fucking shit. Like, aliens shit. I saw the word “aliens” on my twitter once the other week, but I retweeted probably 68 consecutive tweets about this event that night.
And now i don’t know how to feel because I want my girl Alison to get some pu$$, obviously, but in the coming out department karlie is surely Not A Serious Person. So like, the fuck are we supposed to do with that? I don’t know, but i’m still vibrating a little bit like when cartoon characters get hit so hard their entire body is ringing afterwards.
This is a historic backslide and a violation of my human rights.
Hey
The ACTING on this!!! I truly believe she just showed up out of breath at the house of someone with whom she is friendly but also uses few words. There should be Grammys for acting in music
Haven't heard from you in a couple of months
Leaving us wondering… did we break up a couple of months ago? Or are we exes who send memes and do red carpets for our metatextually nightmarish Disney show together? She’s so enigmatic
But I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up
The way Olivia absolutely bites down on “all. fuckt. up.” To her this is merely a fact. it is as mundane and true and unchangeable as an Ikea chair. She’s all fuckt up and that’s normal for her. Oh, does it excite you to get all fukt up? loser.
And you're callin' my phone and you're all alone
And I'm sensing some undertone
Once again she’s giving WRY she’s giving EYEBROW RAISE she’s giving
(portamento? someone who does music please spoon feed me after the show)
And I'm right here with all my friends
But you're sending me your new address
I am literally begging god for people who are not men to be this forward. There are some things men are getting right and those are whatever this hail mary shit is, and prank wars. When that rugby team got stuck in the Andes for 3 months they continued to do pranks the entire time. THE INDOMITABILITY OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT! God, the men you’ve sent to earth to do pranks in the face of great struggle are hiding their jolly nature
And I know we're done, I know we're through
But, God, when I look at you
My brain goes, "Ah"
Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)
God, I miss limerence. find me after the show if you’re trying to lime (v)
Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)
This song is wholly indebted to one
starting here.
Should probably not
I should probably, probably not
I should probably, probably not
But it would be so boring if she should
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
Fuck it, it's fine
Does anyone have a read on her affective palette here? I’ve tried to Act out this prechorus and I feel like a goddamned chemist trying to balance the resignation, steeliness, and pre-defensiveness for when your friends yell at you in the morning. The “seeing you tonight” gets all Maria-style hopeful, but who is she asking the titular question to and what answer does she expect?
Regardless I have always liked that olivia so ardently has a favorite swear jar word.
Yes, I know that he's my ex
Now That’s What I Call DELIVERY! The EXACT “no fucking SHIT!” eye-roll petulance of responding to the friends’ admonitions. She said “HE’S MY *WHAT*??? WELL, MY STARS! SO I’VE HEARD! THAT IS WHAT THEY’RE SAYING IN THE TABLOIDS!”
But can't two people reconnect?
This is the single most devious line in all of music. Olivia, you little shit.
I only see him as a friend
The biggest lie I ever said
Lying rights
Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex
But can't two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
I just tripped and fell into his bed
Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans
I know I should stop, but I can't
And I told my friends I was asleep
But I never said where or in whose sheets
OK, let’s pause. Let’s have a gratitude moment. This is the spiritual core of this song. This song is a stone fruit and this line, nay, this WORD, is the pit.
1) I didn’t know until right now that it’s not “i never said where — in his SHEEEETS.” The actual lyric is so much fucking funnier. As if she’s sidestepping some fairytale curse using the power of semantics. As if she’s Miranda Sings saying her team never said she couldn’t SING about the situation. This line has changed my life, and probably, the course of human history.
2) The delivery on “SHEEEEEEEETS” is pure heyday Ke$ha. The purring, pointed vocal fry. Fucking delicious. Stream “cannibal” and remember “grow a pear” in which Ke$ha, it seems, is not being intentionally transphobic but rather completely and entirely forgets that trans people exist. Wild
And I pull up to your place on the second floor
And you're standing, smiling at the door
And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men
But I really can't remember when
THE ONE-TWO PUNCH OF THIS VERSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH, IT’S BEEN A MOST BOUNTIFUL RAINY SEASON! WHAT A FEAST LIES BEFORE US!
First the climax of 2023 with “sheeeeeeeeets” and now the best neg in recorded history. let’s Genius this business.
First, “I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter men” — fucking savage, FATALITY, diva down.
But swiftly followed by “But I really can’t remember when.”
It Makes Me Smile!!! On the street, in my little room. Smiling. Smiling so much it smacks me out of nowhere sometimes how MEAN IT IS! Because it’s also so SWEET! She’s so hormonally enamored of this man that he is the most beautiful man on earth to her! I have said this about every person I have dated. I MISS IT! If being seen as the most beautiful person on earth outweighs the psychic troubles demonstrated here, find me after the show.
My brain goes, "Ah"
Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)
Like blah-blah-blah (Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)
Should probably not
I should probably, probably not
I should probably, probably not
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
It's a bad idea, right?
Seeing you tonight
Fuck it, it's fine
Yes, I know that he's my ex
But can't two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
The biggest lie I ever said
Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex
But can't two people reconnect?
I only see him as a friend
I just tripped and fell into his bed
Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex
Can't two people reconnect?
The biggest lie I ever said
I just tripped and fell into his bed
My brain goes, "Ah"
Can't hear my thoughts
The biggest lie I ever said
My brain goes, "Ah"
Can't hear my thoughts
I just tripped and fell into his bed
Thoughts
Blah
Thoughts
Blah
Closing Ceremony:
This song came out one day ago and I have listened to it dozens of times. Giving this song to 19 yr old me would be like giving a hot cheeto to a pilgrim if pilgrims were already mainlining chester’s hot fries and giving them hot cheetos would encourage their sick little proclivities to the point of total social ostracization and probably a 5150 for sex and love addiction. Hot cheeto addiction. Whatever. Backsliding-based situationships are like Churu for 19 year olds.
Also, TW “cultural criticism,” I love how Olivia simply fucks and that’s chill. We’re not doing the whole “she was pure and now she has a black swan debutante ceremony in which she reveals she fucks and accepts her stoning and then years later has a cooking show and goes on call her daddy” rigamarole and thank fucking god for that. She is so cool. I feel about Olivia Rodrigo the way Michelangelo felt about David.
Here is my thing on the joy of backsliding.
You have to earn the sex AND you know they already like your body AND you have built-in bits about the fact that you’re backsliding, AND that It’s Been A Minute special sauce is laid on thick AND did I mention it’s unexpected forbidden sex with somebody you already know how to have sex with!!!!!!!!!!!
Back in my day I used to hook up with this guy (lovely fellow) for a week or so, then scurry away before I got sentimental, then a month or so later I’d scurry back, and on and on for two years until one day he came over for morning sex and kissed me on the forehead and I had to decapitate the whole endeavor posthaste. The beauty of the thing was that I could do what I knew was emotionally right — Fleeing — and then a month later, what was the most fun in the whole world — mischievously crawling back into his bed, slick with the scrumptious chili oil of knowing I was Being Bad. Seconds after the moment of conception (pro lifer reveal) I would text my friend this awesome cover of Mamma Mia to boast of my misdeeds.
Then during covey I made a 40-slide powerpoint partially about the topic, including an explanation of how the ecstasy of backsliding is fake-mathematically preordained. I will give you my little powerpoint, with the proper names and indeed photos of people I am talking about removed, because while I love nothing more than other people talking about my love life, I am told this is worrisome and not regular. This stuff might not be correct, per se, but it will help you understand the inexplicable 19 year old in your life.
Plus 50% of good music is about backsliding.
Do I have advice for you on how to healthily backslide? What? No. Obviously not. That’s not what this is. I have not figured out how to healthily lay with others in the Biblical way. No, go have fun. Ruin your life. For those of us who can’t.
What the fuck was that?
What, you’ve never read a fucking zine before? Leave me alone
The formatting felt thrown-together
You’re being epistemologically violent
Defensive much?
Famously.
Why did you think this was publishable?
I don’t know man, I moved to new york and everyone’s like, making shit here, and like, saying what they think, and I’m taking little hummingbird sips of the kool-aid. Plus I’m pretty fond of the joke about me and my ex reuniting ending in murder suicide. When words fail, jokes speak <3
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