Entertainment

Dear Mr. MacFarlane, Oh where to begin? Not being trans yourself, I don't necessarily expect you to be able to recognize a sympathetic portrayal of a trans character when you see one, and given that, I don't expect you to be able to write one either. Telling us we're stupid because we don't recognize how truly "sympathetic" your characterization of transsexuals is makes about as much sense as me trying to lecture you about the technical aspects of animation. You're an animator, you know about animation. I'm a transsexual, I know what hurts and what doesn't when pop culture decides to talk about me. And trust me, being characterized as a monster so completely disgusting that I could provoke a heterosexual male to vomit hurts. It very likely hurts cisgender women as well because...
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Dear Angus, I know now what Rock really is. Rock is the full sensory experience of AC/DC. Your amplified affection of Blues, graphic show of style, and ringing canon blasts put us in another place, far from our routine. I wonder how AC/DC came to be. What is its origin? What do the symbols mean? What lies at its core? These questions apparently point to you. I look for clues underneath sensations. Anxious individuals stand above all of Phillips Arena’s seats waiting for the show. At the height of our anxiety, a cartoon as tall as the space starts. A loud train carries calm passengers at unreal speeds. The view pans to the train engine. In customary schoolboy attire with shovel in hand, you frantically fuel the nearly out of control train, headed anywhere fast, fighting diversions...
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