Sex and the City 2: The Squeakquel (Attack of the Empowered Zombie Women!)

Like the undead, they're back when they should be gone forever, they're horrifying, and they're after your brain.

Cheerleader! So-and-so! What's-her-face! THE UGLY ONE!

I never understood the appeal of the show in the first place, but I'll grant that I'm not the target audience, and women I know and respect seem to like it. That's all well and good. It seems to me to be a sort of Entourage for the female set. Again, fine: nothing wrong with a little brainless fluff here and there, for diversion's sake.

No, my issue is with those devotees - you know who you are - who have embraced the whole phenomenon as a way of life, and a focal point for the new feminism. The SATC world, as far as I can tell, is a sort of fairy tale for the aspiring self-made woman. Little girls want to be Disney princesses; twenty- and thirty-something single ladies want to be Carries. But what does Carrie represent?

Hyper-consumerism?
Racism?
Or simply unexamined privilege?

There's nothing wrong with escapism, but be mindful of where you're escaping to.

There's also the fact that it is, by most accounts, an awful movie. Color me unsurprised.