The Lizzie Bennet Diaries

If you follow me on Twitter or are my friend on Facebook, I’m sure you’ve notice I’ve talked about little else the last couple of days. (And if you’re my mom or brother and live with me, I’m extra sorry for all the bursts into your rooms with “OMG, Lizzie just…. and The Ly-di-a just… and OMG, Jane is soooo sweet, and Darcy…” and the guffaws and the yelping! I love you guys!) That’s because I’m in love! And its name is The Lizzie Bennet Diaries.

As you know, I’m not the greatest Jane Austen fan. Not that Jane Austen isn’t amazing. Truly, she is. When it comes to classic literature, she’s the absolute best our there. And as someone who’s a Literature major by obligation, I know my fair share of Austen. It’s not that I don’t like Pride & Prejudice, the classic story. I do. I think it’s sweet, poignant, and way ahead of its time. I think Elizabeth is smart, mouthy and has ideas that go way beyond the typical girl from her time. Last year, as I took a class on book adaptations, I’ve had the chance of reading Pride & Prejudice in every form, from comics, to Pride & Prejudice and Zombies. I’ve seen two versions of the movie — I actually own the Keira Knighley version, because I got it as a gift, and I really like, I’ve seen it a few times. It’s cute, sweet, funny, smart. What’s not to love about it? Nothing. It’s perfect.

Still, I’m a 00′s kid, technology buff whose fingers twitch if there are no notifications on her phone for over an hour. If my 3G is down? End. Of. The. World. It’s hard for me to truly enjoy something, to truly identify with something without the fast, desperate, hurried pace we live in today. If I read a romance novel with no sex, no cell phones, no women having their own jobs, it’s just so weird to me. I can enjoy it, a lot. But it’s just so hard to love it.

That’s where The Lizzie Bennet Diaries come in. I hadn’t checked it out before, because I’m not a huge Pride & Prejudice fan, and I thought that’s what the webseries was for, right? But how wrong I was. I think it was made for me, really. Why do I say this? Because it has absolutely every awesome element of Jane Austen’s awesome story plus every awesome element of our modern world nowadays.

Lizzie Bennet? She’s a twenty-four year old grad student! And the story? It’s told by her in the format of VLOGS. Can it get any more modern than that? But what’s more awesome about it is that it follows exactly the timeline of the books, as the events unfold in the Jane Austen novel, though, of course, it needs to be adapted to the world nowadays.

(First Lizzie Bennet video — WATCH IT)

That’s the thing, though, as these elements of the story are adapted, the plot gets more… interesting. And it just shows the brilliancy of the writers of the (web)series. I don’t want to give spoilers, though my fingers are itching to do so. But marriage proposals are turned into job offers, illnesses are turned into job opportunities (you know how it is today, all about a career), things like that. And, OMG, I wish I could just tell you, but you have to watch it!

But the best thing about it? The Characters. As someone who actually knows the story to the core — if I didn’t, I’d deserve a good smack — that’s one thing I can talk about. Oh. My. Gosh. So easy to fall in love with. I don’t know who I love more. Lizzie and her sassy mouth, who babbles, babbles, talks about everyone, is always critical, analytical and so loving and caring. Jane, the SWEETEST person in the world, who has me laughing out loud all the time, The Ly-di-a, who’s so full of life, and though she can be annoying, is so refreshing and just jumps off the videos, Bing Lee with his “Are you recoding another video letter to Charlotte?”, Darcy imitating other people, OMG, Gigi being the cutest person ever and setting Lizzie and Darcy up. Maybe Charlotte is the one I never really connected with much. Still… I LOVE THESE PEOPLE!!!

(Introducing her sisters — go watch it. It’s SO GOOD! Why are you still reading me?)

I guess that’s it. My latest and newest obsession! I guess a story is all about how it is told, and I found how I love hearing the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. My favorite adaptation ever. If I were a literature buff, I’d definitely use this for my Masters dissertation. Not. Even. Kidding.

So, what about you guys? Are you big Pride & Prejudice fans? Have you checked The Lizzie Bennet Diaries yet? Are you totally addicted like me?

A Little Short Story

At eight years old, Louisa Jenkins had her whole life sorted out. It was reading a book that brought the epiphany she could hardly contain in her little body, or even in her dreamer mind. Everything was so clear inside her head, how her life would turn out. First off all, she would marry a prince. You know, those from the storybooks, the ones who lived in big, fancy castles, with gardens full of flowers, trees and little forest animals. Squirrels!!! She’d always loved squirrels, their little fluffy tails, the front teeth bigger than the rest and their little almond shaped eyes reminded her of herself. She could envision her days, walking around her property, enjoying everything had life so kindly handed on to her. She felt flattered, that life would actually consider her to take charge of such magnitude of wonders. She knew she had to have done something good to deserve such honor and she planned to take better care of her treasures than anyone ever had.

“Excuse me, sweetheart?” Louisa looked up to see an older woman smiling at her, trying to push passed the grocery cart she’d distractedly left blocking the passage.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Louisa smiled, her little heart beating faster in her chest, a tingle of happiness coming up her spine. Someone had actually talked to her.

The woman pushed her cart by, but the happiness in Louisa’s chest lingered longer, the giddiness of someone having noticed her making her feel alive and complete.

“You can come live in my castle,” Louisa whispered as the woman disappeared in the canned soup isle.

That’s when she remembered! Her life would never be complete without her favorite thing in the whole world: cereal. She pushed her cart through the aisle, deviating an alligator and a giant snake on the way (weren’t they practically the same thing?), running fast, crossing the bridge and, whoa, was that dinosaur? She needed to have a serious talk with her guards about allowing dinosaurs into her property. Then, she saw it. The Cereal Aisle. One of her very favorite places in the whole wide world. She started for the boxes: fuity, sweet, marshmallows, and… just why were the chocolate boxes so up high? Didn’t they understand that children needed to be able to reach them? Maybe she should have a talk with the grocery store manager as well. She tried the tip of her toes, but she couldn’t reach it. She jumped, again, unsuccessfully. Then, a gentleman walked by and stopped.

“Can I help you, Miss?” he asked and she smiled widely.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “I want that one.” She pointed to the brown box with the dinosaur in the front. For some weird reason, she was in a dinosaur mood.

The man reached for the box and placed it in her hands, a smile on his face.

“Thank you, sir.” She grabbed the box and placed it in the cart, aligning it with all the other things she had carefully chosen. They would look so great in her kitchen.

As the man was walking away, Louisa called, “Sir?”

“Yes?” He turned back and his eyes met hers.

“Do you want to be my friend?” she asked, feeling her heart beat faster, her hands sweating a little, feeling anxious and expectant about the answer.

The man smiled down at her, and nodded, “Of course, my dear.”
Delight coursed through her body, and she was about to…

“Louisa Jenkins!!!” She heard the voice, and the lump came instantly up her throat as her hopes fell to the floor. She saw the man walk away as her mother walked closer, grabbing her arm, turning her around, demanding attention.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her eyes dark, angry, mean.

“I was…” Louisa stammered. “Just… getting some… supplies,” she finished with a sob.

“Oh, just leave the crap behind. I’ve looked all over for you.” The grip tightened around Louisa’s arm and the sharp pain sent a tear down her cheek.

“You insolent child.” Her mother dragged her down the aisles, and Louisa watched the cart with the cereal boxes, so carefully aligned, stay behind.

At eight years old, Louisa Jenkins had her whole life sorted out. She just needed to wait, maybe a day or two, until she met her prince, and he’d take her away from the dragon who kept her locked up in the tower. Then she’d have her sanctuary, her castle, her dreams. And she’d be finally safe.

The Teacher Becomes You

I’m not sure how it happened. You know how it goes, don’t you? When something sneaks up on you and boom, takes over your life, your being, your heart and your soul. That’s sort of how it was for me. One day, I was just me. Next thing I knew, I was someone who was beyond myself and out into the world.

Because that’s what a teacher does. They give a part of themselves to the world. Every time they get into the classroom, they leave something of themselves behind (and, kid yourself not, they take something with them — and many times, I feel I learn more than I teach — for teaching is also learning), they leave a little bit of knowledge to a world of so many unknowns.

They leave words, sentence, numbers, strategies, laughs. Being the daughter of professors, I could never have imagined teaching was passed through the blood. I could never have imagined, as I struggled through Law School and Philosophy, that the teaching fever coursed through my veins. But it doesn’t make me ill, it makes me alive.

Sometimes, as I look at my students, who often remind me so much of myself, and I wonder what I would have done then, if a beloved teacher had told me: “That’s who you’re going to be.” (I’d probably have said, “You’re out of your mind!”)  But I was the one who was out of my mind, then.

But I seem to have found my way. Or rather, my way seems to have found me. Because one thing I’ve always heard about teachers is that you don’t become a teacher. The teacher becomes you. And, boy, once it does, there’s no turning back.

Que será, será.

Why, yes, you’ve come to the right place. I decided to change things around here a little bit. You see, this is kind of what I do with my life. Sometimes, life gets a little too static, and I find it’s time to switch things around. Sometimes, I dye my hair pink, chop it off or get a new tattoo. Sometimes I switch school majors. Others, I, you know, just change the layout of my blog. I just have this great, constant need for innovation, or I end up getting bored.

This has always been my problem, since I was a child, which is why I was always in trouble at school. I got bored easily, and I’d get creative (does it get any more ‘recipe for trouble’ than an overly creative, bored child? Didn’t think so!). With time, I learned to focus that creativity on less dangerous more productive things, and I’ve managed to do well so far.

Still, I crave change. All. The. Flippin’. Time. There’s this uneasiness inside of me that won’t get quiet until it’s settled, which is until something is different. Of course, like every normal human being, I fear change. It scares the beejezus out of me. What if my new hair sucks, and what if my new tattoo is done out of impulse, and, for goodness sake, what if, I make the wrong decision about school… again?

You see, I’ve wanted to be everything you can think of. (Except a veterinarian! I must have been the only kid you’ll ever meet that has never wanted to be one!), from an OBGYN (beats me!) to an archaeologist (on my ‘I Love Egypt’ phase!). I wanted to be a detective (Sherlock Holmes style — when I read all Sir Arthur Conan Doyle books — I’d look at things and I’d just solve the mystery!), and none of these things ever felt impossible to me. I had it all worked out in my head. I had no fear, there was no confusion, no doubt. It was perfect.

The only constant in my life has been that I want to be an author. Since I was eleven years old, I know I want to write. Of course, back then, it didn’t seem nearly as challenging (notice I didn’t say impossible) or hard to accomplish as it seems now. It didn’t seem such a dream rather than a goal.

Maybe that’s my problem. My life’s always been full of dreams, dreams that seem unachievable once I actually start thinking about the practicality of them. Then, I realize it wasn’t what I wanted anyway (Looking at women’s hoohas all day? Really? No, thank you!). But, writing, even as I look at all it takes, it’s always there! It’s still what I want. Even if I know how hard it is, there’s something inside of me that keeps nagging and saying, “That’s where you belong.”

Still, I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know if that’s ever going to be a career, or a hobby, or whatever. I have no idea what will become of my life. And, for a long time, that used to suffocate me. I look at my students confused, trying to figured out what to do for University, and I tell them, “Don’t worry about it, if you don’t like it, you can always switch courses. I still don’t know what I want to do.”

I still don’t. I’m four years into studying Languages and I have no idea what I’m going to do with it. I’m… experimenting. I’ve been teaching, and I really love it. I mean, I’m happy with it. I don’t know if it’s where I belong, or if it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life, but it’s an experience.

Last year, I was thinking about switching University courses again. Seriously thinking. It would pull me back a good four years. But that’s when I realized that I’m going about this the wrong way. I’ve been so worried about what I’m going to do with my life, but I’m already doing it.

My life isn’t my future. My life is now. I’m at school, I’m studying. I’m teaching. I’ve traveled. It’s like the old Doris Day song says, “Que será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see. Que será, será.” I’m doing it with my life.

And I think realizing that has helped me a lot. I still have the crazy need for change. I should probably stick with dying my hair or getting a new tattoo for a while, until I’m ready for something more serious. Or changing the layout of my blog.

Speaking of which, what do you guys think of the new layout? And, are you doing now what you thought you’d do as a child? How did that childhood dream fit into your life? Let’s chat!

The Power of a Great Heroine (Otherwise Entitled: Why I Hate Titanic)

I remember as if it were yesterday. Each and every one of my fourth grade little friends talking about it. And the third graders. And the fifth. Also, the adults. They squeaked over at just how cute Leonardo DiCaprio was in the movie, and they had posters of him in their bedroom. They went to the movies over and over and over (I met a couple of girls who claimed to have gone 20 times) to watch the same movie. A movie about a ship which had sunk.

They’d bring the posters to school and talk about the movie starstruck. I wouldn’t get it. In my mind, there was nothing in a movie about a ship which had sunk that appealed to me. Especially after they’d spoiled to me that cute Leonardo died in the end. Still, after the whole fuss, I surrendered.

By the time I actually went to see Titanic, there were only a handful of theaters airing it. The sessions weren’t as crowded anymore, though you could still spot the lovesick prepubescent girl. I went with my father. Poor Guy! I’m still sorry for that one! Even before the movie started, I had a feeling how I’d feel about it. And, boy, was I right.

I remember being bored. Very, very bored. Like, monumentally bored. The whole darned movie was spent IN A SHIP. It was completely different from the movies I liked back then (like Jumanji and Anaconda — Yeah, I’ll blog about it sometime). I didn’t think Leonardo was that cute. At all. I thought he was so plain and not the kind of guy I’d want to marry (what? I was nine!). But, mostly, it was Kate Winslet’s character that completely threw me off.

Even back then, at nine years old, I knew a girl had to be extremely weak and stupid to want to kill herself over having to marry some guy. By throwing herself off a ship into cold waters. I thought her character was so incredibly weak, I was actually hoping she would die — along with Leo (how stupid is it that they both died? Does his death just does not make any sense to everyone else?). I thought she was dramatic. I thought he was boring. And I didn’t shed I single tear, after my friends swore I’d cry buckets. Because, really, those characters weren’t worth my tears.

I was nine. Maybe that was not my exact perception of the characters back then, but it was something very close it. Titanic may have been a lot of things in terms of production, but, boy, it lacked everything in character development. Even a nine year old like me could see that.

Last year, the 3D version came out. And an amazing YouTube channel came up with this hilarious Honest Trailer. I think THIS pretty much sums up the movie.

But, wait!!! The post is not over. There’s still half of the story missing.

It was that same year, shortly after the Titanic fiasco, in fourth grade, that I watched my first SCREAM movie. I’m not, in any way, comparing James Cameron’s multi-million production with Wes Craven’s slasher, though, maybe I am.

For a nine year old, the difference was palpable. I don’t remember if I watched SCREAM at nap time at school (I may as well I have, but I’m not too sure), so, I don’t remember if my friends watched it. But I don’t remember anyone talking about it. I don’t remember any fuss about it. All I remember is it having this HUGE influence in my life.

Because, at nine years old, I thought Sidney Prescott kicked ass. She was this teenager, whose mother had been murdered, and she chose not to sulk on it, but to move on. Then, she started being stalked by psycho killers — one of which turned out to be her boyfriend — she almost died, but she didn’t give up. She shot him. Right between the eyes. She was freakin’ awesome! Neve Campbell was like my first girl-crush. I wanted to be Sidney when I grew up (serial killers and all!).

And, Dewey, played by David Arquette, the geeky police office who ran around trying to get things done, getting slapped by nuts reporter Gale Weathers, was more attractive to me than Leonardo had ever been! I’m not even kidding!

The story — of course, was lacking! It’s a slasher! A classic, 90s whodunnit slasher. The actors are hardly worth of an Oscar, so overdone, but, to a nine year old child, these characters, they spoke through her in a way that no mega million blockbuster could. Because, in a way, they were much more real — like real people instead of idealized characters, built with its basis on the sexist society we live in (a guy dying on cold water to save a girl who wanted to die half a movie early? Like, really? Is that what you call a hero?). Even back then, I wanted to watch movies in which a girl would save the day.

Last year, like I said before, Titanic 3D came out. And, of course, I stayed clear of the long lines and the everlasting teenage squeaking. I’d hope for it to end someday. I hope it will. Instead, I took a smaller line, the one for Scre4m, the movie which resurrected the trilogy I loved so much, 11 years after the last one. I have to admit, I may have squeaked a little.

The years have passed, and I’m not a nine year old anymore. I no longer have a girl-crush on Neve Campbell, nor I think David Arquette is attractive. Still, I loved the movie every little bit as I did when I was nine. Because the characters still spoke to me. And that’s what matters the most after all.

So, what about you guys? What movies/characters speak to you? Are you a SCREAM fan? A Titanic fan (I’ll try not to judge )? Let’s talk about it!

Unwilling Pirates

I’ve wanted to talk about internet piracy for a long time, because it’s a subject I’m passionate about. It’s also extremely hard writing about it without using the first person, but I wouldn’t want to do that, incriminate myself here, after all, the world is always jumping at the first chance of arresting those horrible pirates. You know who I’m talking about, those terrible people who are so cheap they wouldn’t buy their five year world candyfloss at the country fair if they begged with tears in their eyes, let alone pay for things like music, movies, tv shows and books. Yup, those treacherous creatures deserve life in the slammer.

Wait, don’t they? Because that’s what we’re hearing from all ends nowadays, especially from international sources, when you’re from Brazil. I guess when you’re born and raised here, you kind of know better. But you hear a helluva lot of ignorance from the mouths abroad. I guess I just wanted to lay some facts straight here, because I don’t think folks out there *know* this.

I’m not going to talk about music, because I don’t know. I don’t know why people pirate music in Brazil. I barely even listen to music, I don’t even like it very much, sometimes I even forget it’s a part of my life. I don’t have the arguments for it, I don’t understand that world. So, I’m going to divide this blog into three parts. Tv shows, a smaller add on for movies and then books.

The thing with the booming of people downloading tv shows illegally here in Brazil started a few years ago, in about 2009, if I’m not wrong. It was the FOX branch that started the trend, and, all of a sudden, all of their shows were aired DUBBED. Mind you, here FOX is a cable show, and we have to pay extra and expensively for it, and they stripped off one of the most important features of a tv show: the original sound. People were rightfully revolted, the amount of illegal downloads went through the roof. At about the same time, broadband internet became cheaper here, and more and more tv networks started dubbing their shows. And more people started boycotting these networks. It wasn’t just the sound, though. These networks took months to air the episodes here. On the internet, they could have them in less than a week. More and more people started devoting their time to make the Portuguese subtitles for free. Suddenly, you could virtually find any show online right after the original airing, but had to wait weeks, months for a crappy, dubbed version. People started to react. They stopped watching the shows and downloading them.

BUT, there’s a catch. Many of these people still wouldn’t drop their cable. Living in Brazil without cable tv is virtually impossible, even when they sell you damaged goods. And, they don’t measure each show’s audience, we’re all still paying for cable. So, while still boycotting individual networks, people were still paying for the (better) product they were getting for free. Still, most people won’t sit in front of the tv to wait for their favorite shows to start anymore. Because NO ONE is “selling” that to them. The networks have absolutely no respect to the consumer, because it would be SO EASY to just offer a subtitled option, to air it sooner. But they don’t. Props for HBO, which is the only channel my family and I watch. It airs exactly with the US, same time, subtitles, no commercials. If HBO does it, everyone could.

Now for the movies, the problem is remarkably similar. Apparently, it has something to do with the economical ascension of the lower class, and how they prefer to watch things DUBBED. I mean, that’s great, dude. I’m glad they’re part of the market now and have the economical power for it, but the problem is, it’s completely taken over. To find a subtitled session of a movie here has become almost impossible. If it’s not a very popular movie, it’s either one of the very late sessions (like 10:30pm) or there’s none. And, you know what? Many people will pirate movies over that. It’s not that they’re cheap or lazy or that they don’t want to buy the product, it’s that the product they want to buy, which is the most basic product: a movie with its original sound, is not being sold to them.

Many people still won’t pirate a movie then, wait until it gets to the movie store, right? Let’s rent it. Except that people won’t buy the rights for movies from years ago. We watched Män som hatar kvinnor, the Swedish version from The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, after we rented it, and we were dying for the second and third movies. You think they had them? NO! You can infer the rest from there. Just let me tell you something. They still DO NOT have the third movie, now. And the movies are from 2009. Like I said, they want everyone to respect the industry, the stores, everything, so much, but they don’t respect the consumers.

Now, let’s talk about books. That gets me a little more fused up, because it’s more of a sensitive subject. I have author friends, and I know just how much work gets put into writing a book, I know about the tears, the sweat, I know the writing, rewriting, revisions, and everything. And, then, getting your book pirated. That blows big time. And, I know, a lot of book pirates are lazy, inconsiderate cheaps who don’t want to pay for a book. But hear me out on this. Since I got my Kindle, and thought, “Hey, now I’m buying all the books I want, helping the authors, no pirating.” I’ve stumbled upon two words, emphasis on stumble: geographical restriction.

Geographical restriction is exactly what it sounds like: they won’t sell you books if you don’t live in a certain region. Yes, I said SELL. What I feel like, personally, is that I’m not good enough to BUY their things because I’m not American, I’m not Caucasian, I’m not whatever-the-eff. As if my money was worth any less. Now, geographical restrictions on Amazon are usually easy to bypass (if you need help, message me in private!), but it doesn’t always work. But can it get ANY more ridiculous than this? Not selling DIGITAL BOOKS to a certain region just because?

I’ve done numerous researches why, and basically, what I found was that it’s because no publisher has bought those books’ rights for that region, and they don’t want to “give it away for free”, and, eventually compromise a deal that could come from people who would want to buy those rights. And, you know, that could almost make sense, for Europe and Australia, and I don’t know about Asia, but, obviously, the dipshit that thought of this has absolutely no knowledge of the social-economic-cultural situation of Latin America.

The target-audience who would buy a DIGITAL book in their original language, wouldn’t be the same to buy a translated copy as to eventually impede a further contract to exist. They are such distinct consumers. Or I’ll give you more, maybe, the person to buy the book in its English original would buy that translation to give the their mother (as I have before) who doesn’t read in English, may the book ever be bought to their country. But it’s not a case that so many people would buy the original that the publisher would feel that everyone who’d ever read that book has already bought it.

The thing is, in an emerging region, where many people don’t even have money to buy food, reading has never been a priority. Here in Brazil, we have a shameful 1.8 books per capita, I think. You can imagine learning a second language isn’t a luxury many people can afford. Learning it fluently enough to read full novels in it (that assuming you’re from the percentage of the population that likes reading), imagine how little the numbers would be. Geographical restrictions for Latin America makes absolutely NO SENSE.

Still, they don’t want my money. They don’t want to sell me the product I’m willing to buy. As the movie theaters don’t air their movies with their original sounds, and the tv networks won’t air their shows on a decent time frame and with the original sounds. The poor companies keep crying misery, when they’re not really helping their case. My heart bleeds for them.

Here I am, a willing consumer. I go to the movies when I can find a good time with the original sound. I rent a movie when I can find it at the store. I watch all the HBO shows on tv, because they air it with the utmost respect to their viewers. I buy every book I want whenever they’re available to me. But, then, many times, I’m there, money in hand, willing, WANTING to buy something, and they don’t want to sell it to me (it’s so frustrating most of times!). What I am supposed to do?

Well, they’re Canadian!

The title line for my post has been a frequent line in my home these days. For the last couple of weeks, while American television has most of their shows in hiatus, my family and I have ventured into Canadian television, as we watched what seemed (I wish!) endless episodes of a couple Canadian shows. We took on the newbie Continuum, a time-travel/police procedural, and the three seasons old Rookie Blue, a sort of dramaish police not quite-procedural, which is commonly known as “the Grey’s Anatomy” of Cops. The two shows don’t have all that much in common: the plots are completely different, one with anarchists/liberationists (depending on how you look at it) trying to save the world from a corporation dictatorship, the other the daily life of cops as they took on the job, the badge and sleep with half of their co-workers (hey, I’m not judging! It really was love at first time! Great show!). The pace is also completely different. Continnum is fast and full of action — my brother joked it seemed like a Jack Chan (or maybe it was Bruce Lee, or someone else like them!) movie — while Rookie Blue alternates between romance, conversations and a few fight scenes. What the two shows have in common, I mean, they it’s almost weird, is that everyone is REALLY, REALLY nice. EVERYONE.

You know when people are creepily nice? Like, you get to school or work in the morning in a really bad mood, because, well, it’s morning and you’re awake, and there’s someone smiling at you, offering you a drink or a hand? Yeah, that’s the Canadians for ya. They’re the morning people of the world or something. It’s not only that everyone is polite in every situation, nor that they’re respectful, mostly law-abiding, it’s that when they’re not, they’re still equally nice. And that really surprised me.

Maybe it shouldn’t. It probably says more about me than it says about them. Obviously, I’m not criticizing them. They’re more than right being the way they are. And I say that, because I know television reflects the society itself. What I see when I watch Canadian television is completely different from when I watch American television.

In the many episodes I’ve watched, not ONCE I’ve seen anyone intimidating a suspect into talking. Not once. And that was something my family and I really talked about, “If they were Americans, they’d be down their throat.” Instead, they would come up with, “Let’s see how they act when they’re not threatened.” And that’s something that we don’t see on American tv.” Americans are down with force and noise, while Canadians go down with arguments. That’s a HUGE difference.

In one of the episodes, this guy was a suspect of shooting at one of the officers. A COP. Had it been in any of the American shows I’ve watched for years, they’d be down their throat, about to kill him. He shot at her, and hit her on her vest. She was fine. Her fiancé was a bit nervous, and, while they calmed him down, another officer took the suspect to another room, and offered him a cup of coffee. COFFEE. TO A SUSPECT.

While my family and I looked at each other dumbfounded, we just said our new most said line while watching tv, “Well, they’re Canadian.” as if that explained everything. Maybe it does.

I haven’t met any Canadians in person lately. Last time I was very young to remember, if they’re really those nice of people. But as someone who’s been raised by a mother who’s a communications professor who specializes in globalization, I firmly do believe that the television programs of a country reflect their habits, their culture. And, man, did I start to admire Canadians, if I didn’t before.

So, do you guys know any Canadians? Do you think they’re really, super nice? Do you think a country’s television programs reflect their culture? And, lastly, have you seen Continuum or Rookie Blue and are you as obsessed as me? You should, they’re soo good!