TV Goddess: 'Stranger Things' Season 3 - The Reykjavik Grapevine

[froodle]

I hope you’ve watched ‘Stranger Things 3’ because, if you haven’t, this will ruin it a little bit for you.

But first, a small introduction to Icelandic culture: The winter is long, blah blah blah, we watch American TV a lot and here we are on the third series of ‘Stranger Things.’ For people born in the seventies this is everything.

The brown and oranges of the early eighties are slowly making way for rainbows and glowing neon lights. Latchkey kids on their BMXs have to fend for themselves and save the world.

I can relate so hard to this Gremlins/Ghostbusters/Goonies/Eerie, Indiana stew that it makes my heart bleed slimy pink mystery goo. There is nothing wrong with this and I can watch it forever… but I have a few grievances (very minor, don’t worry).

It is obvious to me that this is written mostly by boys with cooties. Why else would all the men be so incredibly unattractive? Hopper is a grumpy dominating man and has ventured to the outer limits of the dad-bod aesthetic. Billy’s cowardly lion hair ruins everything else and when he turned evil I always snapped out of the fear because of his silly mullet perm and babyface. Jonathan is a boring worrywart. And then there’s Steve. I love his character development throughout the series. He evolves from a beautiful jerk to a beautiful semi-nice guy.

I just realized that objectifying young men is pretty disgusting so I’ll move along to the end. Suzie! Yeah I’m looking at you Suzie. Your song was only half-adorable and if you hadn’t made Dustin sing it with you Hopper might have lived. I didn’t want him to date Joyce, but I wanted him to be Eleven’s dad forever.

I’m personally holding you accountable, you little dweeb.