Reflections on Emerz

We were watching the Golden Globes, critiquing. The Tina Fey backlash is a large presence in Emerz' house. Fuck, it may have been born in Emerz' house. There's an ad for Kiefer Sutherland's Mirrors DVD. We watch as that handsome face is stretched and distorted gruesomely.

"Oh big deal," says Emerz. "I never like what I see either."

I remind him of Teen Wolf, of a twinkish J. Fox staring at a mirror in his high school's bathroom and begging his reflection, "Please don't change, please don't change, please don't change..."

"That's right," says Emerz. "That's after he runs out of class, when he goes to the blackboard and notices his fingernails start to darken. That always reminded me of nervous math-class boners."

"I think that's intentional," I say. "It's a metaphor for hormones."

"Maybe," says Emerz. "I'm just happy I don't have to worry about those anymore."

"About what?" I say.

"The math class boners," says Emerz.

"Why? Because you dropped out of school or because you don't get boners anymore?"

"Both," says Emerz.

He goes upstairs and comes down with the Teen Wolf DVD. We are reminded again of the high school formula. Loser has a rapid social ascent, and then, Icarus-like, plummets, generally in front of a large, formerly adoring crowd. We are reminded of Can't Buy me Love. Emerz puts on his white leather jacket. We cheer during the choreographed prom dance. We cheer as Fox's friend Styles surfs the suburban streets of California aboard his van. We cheer as the Wolf spins the basketball on his index finger, wondering what everyone is staring at. When the resident hot chick seduces J.Fox in the drama department dressing room, we howl.