Every Season of The Simpsons Ranked

The Simpsons was an animated American sitcom that aired between October, 1990 and May, 1999.* Although it only lasted for 9 memorable seasons, The Simpsons still easily managed to become the greatest television show in the history of the universe and perhaps even the single greatest achievement of homo sapiens. While it is widely understood that these 9 seasons of The Simpsons are outstanding practically beyond description, it is not widely understood which of those 9 seasons is the best. This is an important question, as determining which season of The Simpsons is the best will consequently determine which year was the best for the human race, as the people who were alive at that time had the opportunity to experience the unparalleled joy of the 20+ episodes of the show for the first time. This would have been, it follows, the most joyous time to have been a denizen of our planet.

*Note: The television program discussed in this article is not to be confused with "The Simpsons," which aired between 1989 and 1990, or "The Simpsons," which began in 1999 and continues through the present and features the same nominal cast of characters.

Understanding the task of ranking the 9 seasons of The Simpsons to be a gravely serious and important one, I did not enter into the commitment lightly and without due reverence, for I comprehended my task to be one of the most consequential ever undertaken by any person who has yet lived. Thus I resolved to be thorough and rigorous in my method, which was generally the following: First, I illegally downloaded all 9 seasons of the show (I don't have TV or a DVD player, ok?) and put them into individual folders. Then, in an attempt to remove any preexisting biases about which seasons were superior to others, I renamed the folders with random strings of letters and then sorted them alphabetically to randomize the order. From there I began to watch the episodes from season beginning to end and rate each one (with the exception of clip shows, which I did not include) on a scale of 1-10. (In hindsight I can see that this was an absurd idea, as it implies that it is possible for an episode of The Simpsons to score something less than, say, a 6 or 7. That is obviously not possible. Irregardless!) I kept a fastidious spreadsheet of the randomized season names and the ratings of each individual episode of each season, which I then averaged for comparison. After tallying the average scores for each season, I was able to compare the averages and determine when mankind's greatest achievement occurred.

So, without further Apu, here is how the 9 seasons stack up, from least to most awesome.

9th Place: Season 9 (average: 7.46/10)

By the lofty standards of The Simpsons, season 9 is rather mediocre. The writing is already in noticeable decline at this point, and the characters are beginning to become less lovable, less recognizable as their iconic selves from previous seasons. Although this season scored just one perfect 10 with "The Last Temptation of Krusty," there are still some gems here, most notably "The City of New York vs. Homer Simpson," "Bart Star," and "Girlie Edition."

The City of New York vs. Homer Simpson		9		The Principal and the Pauper		8
Lisa's Sax		8		Treehouse of Horror VIII		7
The Cartridge Family		7		Bart Star		9
The Two Mrs. Nahasapeemapetilons		8		Lisa the Skeptic		8
Reality Bites		7		Miracle on Evergreen Terrace		8
Bart Carny		7		The Joy of Sect		8
Das Bus		8		The Last Temptation of Krusty		10
Dumbbell Indemnity		8		Lisa the Simpson		8
This Little Wiggy		7		Simpson Tide		8
The Trouble With Trillions		7		Girlie Edition		9
Trash of the Titans		7		King of the Hill		7
Lost Our Lisa		7		Natural Born Kissers		7

8th Place: Season 2 (average: 7.54/10)

Season 2, which is confusingly the first season of The Simpsons, depicts a show still in its infancy and finding its singular comedic voice. As is characteristic of the first few seasons, the show is much more sentimental than it is outright funny; some of the most memorable episodes deal with important moments for the characters, like Marge and Homer's high school prom night, Bart's surprisingly genuine disappointment at failing a test (and subsequent elation at eventually passing it), Lisa's attachment to her substitute teacher Mr. Bergstrom, or Homer believing he was going to die after eating improperly prepared blowfish. Season 2 also contains the first "Treehouse of Horror" episode, a tradition continued by every subsequent season.

Bart Gets an 'F'		7		Simpson and Delilah		9
Treehouse of Horror		9		Two Cars in Every Garage and Three Eyes on Every Fish		7
Dancin' Homer		7		Dead Putting Society		8
Bart vs. Thanksgiving		7		Bart the Daredevil		9
Itchy and Scratchy and Marge		8		Bart Gets Hit by a Car		7
One Fish, Two Fish, Blowfish, Bluefish		8		The Way We Was		9
Homer vs. Lisa and the Eighth Commandment		7		Principal Charming		6
Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?		8		Bart's Dog Gets an 'F'		7
Old Money		7		Brush With Greatness		7
Lisa's Substitute		7		The War of The Simpsons		8
Three Men and a Comic Book		7		Blood Feud		7

7th Place: Season 10 (average: 7.65/10)



The 9th and final season of the show, Season 10 is firmly situated within the decline towards the program's end. There are some disappointingly mediocre episodes here, like the generally forgettable "Make Room for Lisa" and "The Old Man and the C-Student," but there are thankfully a few brilliant episodes to prop up the average. Stephen Hawking still stands out as one of the best "celebrity" cameos ever in "They Saved Lisa's Brain." This season's "Treehouse of Horror" episode is particularly memorable, and "Thirty Minutes over Tokyo" is easily one of the best episodes in any of the last few seasons.

Lard of the Dance		7		The Wizard of Evergreen Terrace		8
Bart the Mother		7		Treehouse of Horror IX		9
When You Dish upon a Star		7		D'oh-in in the Wind		8
Lisa Gets an 'A'		8		Homer Simpson in Kidney Trouble		8
Mayored to the Mob		7		Viva Ned Flanders		7
Wild Barts Can't Be Broken		7		Sunday, Cruddy Sunday		8
Homer to the Max		8		I'm With Cupid		7
Marge Simpson in "Screaming Yellow Honkers"		7		Make Room for Lisa		6
Maximum Homerdrive		7		Simpsons Bible Stories		9
Mom and Pop Art		8		The Old Man and the C-Student		6
Monty Can't Buy Love		8		They Saved Lisa's Brain		9
Thirty Minutes over Tokyo		10

6th Place: Season 3 (average: 8.14/10)

The average score gap between 7th and 6th place is the largest between any two seasons on the list; from here to the top, there really are no bad episodes. Every season from those remaining (3-8) should be widely celebrated as the "golden age" of The Simpsons. Season 3 only scores one perfect 10, but it's one of my all-time favorite Simpsons episodes: "Homer at the Bat." Sentimentality and moral tales abound in this season as well, but the trademark Simpsons humor clearly shines through every episode. Season 3 brought us the "Flaming Moe," the fabricated tragic story of "Timmy O'Toole," and the folksy country stylings of Lurleen Lumpkin. All that's left to say is, "Goodnight, Springden. There will be no encores."

Stark Raving Dad		9		Mr. Lisa Goes to Washington		8
When Flanders Failed		8		Bart the Murderer		9
Homer Defined		8		Like Father Like Clown		8
Treehouse of Horror II		9		Lisa's Pony		7
Saturdays of Thunder		8		Flaming Moe's		8
Burns Verkaufen der Kraftwerk		7		I Married Marge		9
Radio Bart		8		Lisa the Greek		8
Homer Alone		7		Bart the Lover		9
Homer at the Bat		10		Separate Vocations		7
Dog of Death		7		Colonel Homer		9
Black Widower		7		The Otto Show		9
Brother Can You Spare Two Dimes		8		Bart's Friend Falls in Love		8

5th Place: Season 5 (average: 8.32/10)

Season 5 of The Simpsons, or as it was known briefly, The Thompsons, ("...I think he's talking to you") only contains one perfect episode in my estimation, but it's an iconic one: Homer's Barbershop Quartet. 8 other episodes, however, come damn close at 9/10, giving season 5 the most classic Simpsons episodes of any season so far. Homer blasts into space, Marge is involved in a high-speed police chase in a stolen car, Lisa strikes a blow for equality with the Lisa Lionheart doll, Bart wins an elephant from a local radio station, and Sideshow Bob performs Gilbert and Sullivan's  H.M.S. Pinafore. "We'll take the Spruce Moose! Hop in! ...I said, hop in."

Bart Gets an Elephant		9		Bart Gets Famous		8
Bart's Inner Child		8		Boy-Scoutz 'N the Hood		7
Burns' Heir		8		Cape Feare		8
Deep Space Homer		9		Homer and Apu		8
Homer Goes to College		9		Homer Loves Flanders		8
Homer the Vigilante		8		Homer's Barbershop Quartet		10
Lady Bouvier's Lover		7		Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy		9
Marge on the Lam		9		Rosebud		8
Secrets of a Successful Marriage		8		Springfield		9
Sweet Seymour Skinner's Badass Song		8		The Boy Who Knew Too Much		7
The Last Temptation of Homer		9		Treehouse of Horror IV		9

4th Place: Season 6 (average: 8.33/10)

Even with 5 perfect episodes ("Bart vs. Australia," "Itchy & Scratchy Land," "Lemon of Troy," "Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part I)," and "Treehouse of Horror V"), Season 6 is still just the 4th best season of The Simpsons. That speaks more to the brilliance of the seasons ahead of it than to the inadequacy of this one, because some of the show's most iconic moments are found here, including what is probably the best "Treehouse of Horror" episode of any season. Season 6 has left its mark if the phrase "purple monkey dishwasher" means anything to you, or if you know all of the words to Mr. Burns' epic "See My Vest" song-and-dance number. "Now let's all celebrate with a cool glass of turnip juice."

A Star is Burns		9		And Maggie Makes Three		9
Bart of Darkness		8		Bart vs. Australia		10
Bart's Comet		9		Bart's Girlfriend		8
Fear of Flying		8		Grandpa vs. Sexual Inadequacy		9
Homer Badman		9		Homer the Great		8
Homer vs. Patty and Selma		8		Homie the Clown		9
Itchy & Scratchy Land		10		Lemon of Troy		10
Lisa on Ice		8		Lisa's Rival		8
Lisa's Wedding		8		'Round Springfield		8
Sideshow Bob Roberts		7		The PTA Disbands!		9
The Springfield Connection		8		Treehouse of Horror V		10
Two Dozen and One Greyhounds		9		Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part I)		10

3rd Place: Season 8 (average: 8.48/10)

It's difficult to look at the episode list for season 8 and understand how it isn't the best season of The Simpsons. It certainly contains some of the single greatest episodes the show has ever done, including "Bart After Dark," which is my personal all-time favorite episode. Add in Frank Grimes, Shary Bobbins, Rex Banner, and Hank Scorpio, and season 8 seems like the undisputed champion. While the highs are astronomical, though, there are too many episodes that are simply ok, and they drag the average down enough to be bested overall by two other seasons. Any top 10 list of episodes, however, would certainly have more selections from season 8 than any other. The periodic brilliance of season 8 makes the general mediocrity of season 9 even more baffling. "In your face, space coyote!"

Bart After Dark		10		A Milhouse Divided		8
Burns, Baby, Burns		7		El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer		10
Grade School Confidential		8		Homer vs. The Eighteenth Amendment		9
Homer's Enemy		10		Homer's Phobia		9
Hurricane Neddy		8		In Marge We Trust		10
Lisa's Date with Destiny		8		Mountain of Madness		7
My Sister, My Sitter		7		Simpsoncalifragilisticexpiala(Annoyed Grunt)cious		9
The Brother from Another Series		8		The Canine Mutiny		8
The Homer they Fall		8		The Itchy & Scratchy & Poochie Show		10
The Old Man and the Lisa		7		The Secret War of Lisa Simpson		8
The Simpsons Spinoff Showcase		9		The Springfield Files		9
The Twisted World of Marge Simpson		7		Treehouse of Horror VII		9
You Only Move Twice		9

2nd Place: Season 4 (average: 8.52/10)

Season 4's brilliance is the complete inverse of season 8's. If season 8 is a smattering of supernovae against relatively cold background radiation, season 4 is a sky full of shimmering constellations. There are only a few perfect episodes here - "Marge vs. The Monorail," "Selma's Choice," and "Treehouse of Horror III" - but the rest of them are damn close. You won't find the best known Simpsons moments in season 4, but you will find a consistent comedic voice that's constantly firing on all cylinders, and it is glorious. Choose any episode from this season and sit back and enjoy the perfect mix of soul and silliness. "Duff Gardens... Hurrah!"

Kamp Krusty		9		A Streetcar Named Marge		9
Homer the Heretic		9		Lisa the Beauty Queen		9
Treehouse of Horror III		10		Itchy and Scratchy the Movie		8
Marge Gets a Job		8		New Kid on the Block		8
Mr. Plow		9		Lisa's First Word		9
Homer's Triple Bypass		9		Marge vs. the Monorail		10
Selma's Choice		10		Brother from the Same Planet		7
I Love Lisa		8		Duffless		8
Last Exit to Springfield		7		The Front		8
Whacking Day		8		Marge in Chains		7
Krusty Gets Kancelled		9

1st Place: Season 7 (average: 8.87/10)

Not only does season 7 have the most perfect episodes (6), but it also is the only season in which every single episode scored 8 or higher. There isn't really even a mediocre episode in season 7, let alone a bad one. It's the season that gave us "embiggen" and "cromulent." The season of Marge's Chanel dress, Homer's predictably disastrous stint as Mr. Burns' assistant, Lisa's controversial investigation into the real Jebediah Springfield, and Bart's search for his soul (after selling it to Milhouse). The season of "Up and AT THEM!" and "My eyes! The goggles do nothing!" The season of "Billy Corgan, Smashing Pumpkins. Homer Simpson, smiling politely." and "Buy me Bonestorm or go to hell!" The season of this, from "Homer the Smithers":

"Here are your messages."

"You have 30 minutes to move your car."

"You have ten minutes."
"Your car has been impounded."
"Your car has been crushed into a cube."
"You have 30 minutes to move your cube."
(phone rings)
"Is it about my cube?"

Who Shot Mr. Burns? (Part II)		10		Radioactive Man		9
Home Sweet Homediddily-Dum-Doodily		8		Bart Sells His Soul		9
Lisa the Vegetarian		10		Treehouse of Horror VI		10
King-Size Homer		10		Mother Simpson		8
Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming		9		Marge Be Not Proud		8
Team Homer		9		Two Bad Neighbors		9
Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield		8		Bart the Fink		9
Lisa the Iconoclast		9		Homer the Smithers		8
The Day the Violence Died		8		A Fish Called Selma		8
Bart on the Road		9		22 Short Films about Springfield		10
Raging Abe Simpson and his Grumbling Grandson in the Curse of the Flying Hellfish		8		Much Apu about Nothing		8
Homerpalooza		10		Summer of 4 ft. 2		9

It is reasonable to conclude that The Simpsons achieved perfection in season 7, and therefore humanity did as well. Thus, the peak of human civilization and the best possible time to have been alive was between September, 1995, and May, 1996. I have spoken.

The Elevator Problem, or Why There is No Hope for Humanity

As a resident of the most vertical city in the world, I spend a lot of time in elevators. I live on the 12th floor of a 22 story building, which means that elevators are part of my daily commute. Besides their obvious practical functionality, elevators also sometimes accidentally provide a window into human psychology - the awkwardness of long, silent rides with strangers too close for comfort, the futility of pushing the door close button, the compulsion of pushing the call button when it's already activated. But I've noticed a particular problem in my building of residence, a disturbing observation of inexplicable human behavior that I'll simply refer to as "The Elevator Problem."

One of many crime scenes in my building

No, this is not some logical/mathematical conundrum like the Monty Hall Problem, which also coincidentally involves three doors. This is a much more insidious indictment of human cognition. Allow me to elaborate: In my apartment building, there are 3 elevators, as shown in the image above. There are two call buttons: one between the left and center elevators and another between the center and right elevators. For some reason that I cannot in any way descry, these two call buttons are completely dissevered from each other. That is, pushing one of the call buttons does not automatically light the other one; they can only be operated individually. This explains the difference visible in the image: the left call button only operates the elevator on the left; the right call button operates both the center and right elevators. As I said, I have tried in vain to theorize as to why these elevators were designed in this way. The three elevators are functionally identical: they are all exactly the same size and capacity, and each one stops on the same floors, G and 3-22. It makes no difference whatsoever which one you use, no matter what floor you're on or to what floor you're going.

The Elevator Problem

Perhaps you can anticipate what I deem to be the problem: residents of the building routinely press both elevator call buttons. This guarantees that two elevators will be called to that floor, the one on the left and either the center or right elevator. If this doesn't seem like such a big deal, let me point out the practical consequences of this behavior. Pushing both call buttons means that up to 50% of all elevator stops are unnecessary. In my most recent trip down from the 12th floor, for example, the elevator stopped twice, on the 7th and 6th floors, and both times the doors opened to reveal an empty void where a thoughtless individual had stood before one of the other elevators collected her. I can only hope there's a special place in hell for the offenders on the 22nd floor; when one of those oblivious oafs presses both call buttons, the rest of us have to wait while one elevator makes a completely pointless trip to the top of the building where nobody will enter it. When I see two elevators going to the highest floors I want to run up the stairs and start mashing the call button on every floor in between so that it takes 10 minutes for those moronic top-dwellers to reach the earth.

The only thing I'm really struggling with here is whom to blame for this needless frustration, the elevator designers or the hapless passengers. I can only assume that this was an intentional design choice by the manufacturer - it's too big an oversight to have happened accidentally. As you might also be able to see in the image, each button is beneath an LED display that indicates which floor the elevator is currently on and which direction it's headed if it's been called. There is no practical reason to give this information to prospective passengers except to aid in determining which button to press. If I've reasoned correctly, then the engineers at OTIS have grossly overestimated the capacity of the average elevator user in what I can only assume is an honest attempt to build a maximally efficient transportation system. Still, I have a difficult time envisioning how this independently operating design could ever be better than linking the buttons together and having a disinterested computer making the decisions because, as I'll unpack next, people are on the whole terrible and useless.

Carefully Measured Analysis

So all that's left to analyze is why people (literally every person in the building but me, as far as I can tell) push both buttons. There are many possible reasons; none of them bodes well for the future of the human race:

 IGNORANCE

The first possible explanation is that some people simply do not realize the correlation between their multiple-button-pushing behavior and the disruption in travel that it causes. It's hard for me to believe this, since it is obvious when pushing one button that the other one does not light up, and every single resident routinely experiences the irritation of elevators stopping for absolutely nobody on the way down. Still, I can't completely rule it out, because most people are genuinely stupid, and having considered the alternatives, this is actually the most innocuous explanation.

SELFISHNESS

The second possible explanation is that people are generally aware that pushing both buttons calls two elevators, but they simply don't give a shit. They want to get where they're going as quickly as possible, and if that means inconveniencing other people, no big deal. The horrible irony is that it doesn't work - when everyone does this, as everyone does, it actually takes longer for us all to get where we're going, because the overzealous button-pressing of each person affects the travel time of every other person. The worst thing about this theory is that the perceived advantage of it doesn't even actually exist.

HERD MENTALITY

The third and only other possible explanation, as far as I can reason, is that people press both buttons because everybody else presses both buttons. Maybe they haven't actually paused to consider how these elevators operate and just do what everyone else does, which is push both buttons. Maybe they've witnessed someone with some perceived authority press both buttons, like the doorman at the desk on the ground floor or a smartly dressed banker. Maybe they've all just accepted that this is the way the elevators work in this building; we all just press both buttons and then live with the consequences.

Irresponsible Extrapolations for Comedic Effect

This is just one small glimpse into human behavior, but I think it's a grimly telling one. I feel the number and diversity of the subjects of this ongoing failed experiment give me confidence to state plainly that we as a species have no hope of progress. I've seen the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the affable and the apathetic unfailingly push both buttons. We clearly cannot be trusted to manage something as utterly quotidian as pushing elevator buttons; entrusting us with any task of greater significance would be the daftest folly.

I'll leave you with an anecdote, but a poignant one, as I believe it was the moment when I fully and permanently lost all hope for homo sapiens. I was standing alone before the three elevators on the 12th floor. I had already carefully studied the information on the LED panels above the call buttons and concluded that either the center or right elevator would likely reach me first. I had pressed the right call button, and only the right call button, and one of the two elevators operated by it was dutifully in transit. In the interim, a darling old Chinese lady shimmied up to the elevators, her little shopping trolley in tow. The scene before her was unambiguous: someone had already arrived and taken the initiative of calling an elevator to our floor. Someone was already patiently waiting for an elevator that had clearly already begun its journey to us. She saw all of this. She saw all of this, and she waddled over to the elevator on the left, and you already know what she did. She pushed the other button. She pushed the other fucking button, and I knew it was all over. My hope for the human race shattered unceremoniously as I fantasized about beating an elderly Chinese woman to death with her own shopping trolley. We can't have nice things, friends. We can't have nice things because we can't even solve The Elevator Problem.

Stop Identifying with Political Parties

Are you a Democrat or a Republican? A Libertarian? Independent? A fiscal conservative? A democratic socialist? No you’re not. You’re none of these things, because no one is actually any of these things.

Identifying with a political party (and, generally, labeling oneself or others in almost any way) is an exercise in the application of broken reasoning.  Thanks to our ill-conceived first-past-the-post voting system, the political landscape has been bifurcated into the falsest of false dichotomies: Democrat vs. Republican. In order to have any hope of making our political voice heard, we Americans must align with or at the least vote for a candidate from one of these two factions. A vote for a third-party candidate is often in practical terms indistinguishable from not voting, so the options on that first Tuesday after the first Monday in November will be, as usual, Red, Blue, or stay home.

Few people are satisfied with these choices, yet they persist in being the only two of consequence available to us every time we turn up at our polling places. Contributing to this perennial misery are the many people who bafflingly continue to identify as Democrats and Republicans. Here are five reasons why you need to stop self-identifying with these labels:

1. They are utterly devoid of nuance.

What does it even mean to be a Republican or a Democrat? Of course you can just go to the two parties’ respective official websites and read their platforms, but does that mean that everyone using the label “Republican,” for example, holds the same views? Of course not. In fact we just witnessed a Democratic National Convention in which Bernie Sanders was summarily pilloried for endorsing Hillary Clinton, the nominal candidate of choice for the party, and a Republican National Convention in which Ted Cruz was likewise heckled for not endorsing Donald Trump, the nominal candidate of choice for the party. There is little concord even within the parties themselves these days, which ironically now reflects the views of the voting public more than ever. What is the use, then, in identifying as a Democrat or a Republican? Does it really make sense to refer to a fundamentalist Christian in Alabama and an openly-gay fiscal conservative in Connecticut by the same label, as if these two people will find themselves in agreement on most issues? What about a socially liberal Catholic in New York and an irreligious democratic socialist in California? What is the utility in applying a label to yourself that can be applied to another person with whom you would disagree on important issues?

2. They are laden with negative connotations.

Identifying as a Democrat or a Republican carries baggage with it similar in quantity to that accommodated by a Boeing 747. You may announce in conversation “I am a Republican” and hear in your head “I support small government and a strong free-market economy” while others around you will have clearly heard “I’m a jingoistic, small-minded xenophobe with a 7^th-grade education and several assault rifles to keep my family safe from the Muslims.” Or perhaps you might mention in passing “I’m a Democrat” and fancy yourself “committed to civil rights and saving the environment” while others will distinctly recall you saying “Meat is murder! War is murder! Everyone is a homo/trans/Islamo/xeno -phobe!”  People will hear what they think you mean when you use these labels, not what you actually mean.

3. They stop important conversations from happening.

This is the single biggest problem with identifying with a political party: it gives other people an excuse not to talk to you about important issues. Expressing your actual view on a politically divisive topic is nearly impossible once someone assumes he knows what you think. Epictetus figured this out almost 2,000 years ago and sagely remarked, “It is impossible to begin to learn that which you think you already know.” It doesn’t even matter whether the other person also identifies with the same label you do - the result is still no conversation, either because of perceived agreement, in which case why bother, or perceived irreconcilable disagreement, in which case why bother? Calling yourself a Democrat or a Republican lets other people decide that they agree or disagree with you before you’ve even uttered a word.

4. They don’t actually represent anyone.

Back to false dichotomies – the suggestion that there are only two sides to a proposition when in reality there are more – as in “you’re either with us or you’re with the terrorists” or “you’re either a feminist or you’re a bigot.” No person is entirely a Republican or entirely a Democrat, even if those labels could be defined in satisfactorily uncontroversial terms. To demonstrate this, go to I Side With, answer as many questions as you have a cogent view on, and then look at the results. Here’s what happens when I do it, for example:

Everyone’s results are going to be different, because no two people in human history have ever agreed about everything. Whatever your results are, the important thing is that the percentages don’t add up to 100%. Nobody, not even the political candidates themselves, would take the test and get a result that looks something like this:

That’s because there are not only two sides to every public policy issue, and the two political parties have not staked out wholly oppositional stances on opposite ends of the spectrum. To be a Republican is, at least in some measure, to be a Democrat, and vice versa. Everyone’s views are some particular mixture of liberal and conservative, of libertarian and authoritarian.

5. They adumbrate the myriad views people actually hold.

Probably the best reason not to identify as a Democrat or a Republican is that it implies that the whole of your political worldview can be expressed adequately in a single word. That’s not even something you should want to be true. It intimates that you’re either incapable of or unwilling to derive your own personal set of views on political questions and would rather have them prefabricated and handed to you. This is shameful – an abdication of responsibility unbecoming of any able-minded adult living in civilized society.

So, stop calling yourself a Republican or a Democrat. Stop sharing divisive partisan write-ups from news sites on social media. Stop generalizing about political candidates as if they’re mere proxies for their parties rather than individuals with ideas for the direction of public policy. Develop your own views purposefully rather than perfunctorily, and don’t be concerned that they all fit neatly into one of two boxes placed before you. Admit that you might not have enough information to have a strong opinion on a complex issue like welfare or immigration. Consider that your views on some issues might require explanation and not fit on a bumper sticker or in 140 characters. Encourage others to ask about a specific issue if they want to know your view rather than probe for a party affiliation. If you lament the state of two-party politics in the US in any way, don't allow yourself to be defined through it.

An Encomium of Milo Yiannopoulos

Milo Yiannopoulos. He is many things to many people: darling to the alt-right, scourge to SJWs, receptacle to black wangs. Transcendently polarizing, he is adored and vituperated in seemingly equal measure.

Nearly everything that Milo says and does is, by careful design, outlandishly offensive. He has elevated online trolling to an art form, so successfully so that Twitter has found it necessary on now two occasions to single him out for draconian and undeserved punishment. All of this only to discover that Milo is the Hydra, and Twitter is no Hercules: after he was stripped of his verification credential, his popularity soared on social media; after a permanent ban, he's now practically a household name. Since the ban, anyone literate enough to string words together has either rushed to his aid or gleefully celebrated his demise.

Yet whatever you think of Milo Yiannopoulos, he is necessary.

If you hadn't heard his name before this week and all you know about him is that he was banned from Twitter for a spat with actress Leslie Jones, take a moment to explore the rich tapestry that is his journalistic body of work before writing him off as an insensitive, misogynistic, fat-shaming xenophobe. For, you see, behind the bleach-blonde facade of targeted abuse and flame-fanning, Milo exudes an indispensable commodity: well-argued unpopular opinion.

I don't agree with Milo about very much. I'll admit to being endlessly entertained by his outrageous slanders and take-downs of feminism, for example, but our views are decidedly more divergent than concordant. I need only point to our respective views on the candidacy of Donald Trump (or "Daddy," as Milo disturbingly refers to him) as a case in point. Yet it is this dissenting worldview, this contradiction of many of my intuitions and values (he famously enjoys trolling atheists) that earns my attention. Milo Yiannopoulos is what so many people on the liberal (and regressive) left desperately need - an echo-chamber-shattering contrarian - though few seem to realize it.

We all benefit from a fecund and cosmopolitan marketplace of ideas. There is no societal progress without discussion, without disagreement. There is no personal growth without exploring the possibility that our most deeply-held and strongly-believed views are categorically mistaken. Yet in our online communities we stake out little agreeable enclaves of safe space and populate them exclusively with others amenable to our worldviews. We slap labels onto other people as an excuse not to have to interact with them intellectually or consider any viewpoints diametrically opposed to our own.

A glance around any social media platform will reveal the grim consequences of this behavior - a world in which narrative has supplanted reality.

This is a world that needs Milo Yiannopoulos. A world that needs someone who will embark on a "Most Dangerous Faggot" tour and go to college campuses and declare confidently that "feminism harms women," or "Black Lives Matter is a terrorist organization," or "being gay is a choice," or "the gender wage gap is a myth," or "Angela Merkel's immigration policy is a disaster," or "free speech is under assault on college campuses." Not because these statements are necessarily true, but because you'll never even consider whether they're true unless someone forces you to. Is the gender wage gap real? How do you know? Have you ever really looked into it? Could you hold your own in a discussion with someone in possession of a mountain of facts and figures, or would you end up sounding like an imbecile?

There are three ways to handle Milo Yiannopoulos. The first is to ban him from voicing his opinions. This is what many college campuses have done and what Twitter has most recently and most famously done. This generally results in a massive increase in his visibility and popularity, which is precisely what happens whenever anyone bans anything. The second is to dismiss his views outright without consideration or to ignore him. This is a possible option, although Milo is not easily ignored. The third (and in my view the most productive) is to engage with him and his ideas. If you think he's entirely backwards about something, try to prove him wrong. He has even done you the favor of articulating exactly how to beat him. It's not easy - it requires remaining calm, removing emotions from the discussion, waiting for your turn to speak, and doing your homework. This is how discussion takes place in civilized society, and if Milo Yiannopoulos is the only person left who understands this, then we need to let him speak.

Besides, just look at him. #FreeMilo

...About That New Ghostbusters Movie

Sony Pictures Entertainment released the first official trailer for the Ghostbusters reboot this week. This film is a terrible idea. Here's an excessively long explanation of why.

Why was the original Ghostbusters good?

Ghostbusters is almost a perfect movie. Of course any discussion of art is going to entail subjectivity, but Ghostbusters is widely acknowledged to be a great movie. Roger Ebert gave it 3.5 stars when he saw it in June of 1984, declaring, "Ghostbusters is one of those rare movies where the original, fragile comic vision has survived a multimillion-dollar production ... [i]t uses its money wisely, and when that, ahem, monster marches down a Manhattan avenue and climbs the side of a skyscraper ... we're glad they spent the money for the special effects because it gets one of the biggest laughs in a long time." It has a "certified fresh" score of 97% on Rotten Tomatoes, with the critical consensus "an infectiously fun blend of special effects and comedy, with Bill Murray's hilarious deadpan performance leading a cast of great comic turns." The film quickly cemented itself in pop-culture and spawned an empire of cartoon spin-offs and toys.

But is Ghostbusters really that good, or are we just looking back on a cultural icon of the 1980's with rose-colored nostalgia goggles, perhaps exaggerating its brilliance and whitewashing its deficiencies? Well, moviebob took almost 40 minutes to explore that very question, and (spoilers!) the answer is yes, Ghostbusters really is that good.

But what makes Ghostbusters so good? We might sum it up succinctly in three words: Bill Fucking Murray. While the whole cast plays off each other brilliantly, Murray steals the show. Most of the film's memorable lines come from him ("Yes, it's true. This man has no dick."), although every single character contributes unforgettable one-liners ("Ray, when someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!"). The film was written by Harold Ramis and Dan Aykroyd, two comedy geniuses in the prime of their writing and performing careers. Ramis by 1984 had already written several comedy classics (Caddyshack, Meatballs, Groundhog Day, Stripes, National Lampoon's Vacation and Animal House), and Aykroyd had been an award-winning writer and performer on Saturday Night Live as well as writing and starring in The Blues Brothers and Trading Places.

Besides the aforementioned Murray, the rest of the cast is great as well - Sigourney Weaver is the perfect straight character to Murray's insanity,  Rick Moranis is the quirky, awkward accountant neighbor, and even Annie Potts nails the sarcastic office secretary role. The film even has a genuinely unlikable villain in William Atherton as Walter Peck. In short, Ghostbusters is the result of an unrepeatable convergence of writing and acting talent that produced one of the greatest comedy films of all time.

Ghostbusters 2016

So that brings us back to 2016 and to the reboot. I think it's actually more appropriate to question why this film does exist rather than provide reasons why it shouldn't. Who was clamoring for a Ghostbusters reboot without Bill Murray, et al.? Why was this movie even made?  Let's not forget that this experiment was basically run in 1989 with Ghostbusters 2, a decidedly disappointing sequel that was written by and starred the same people who had made the original such a success. Harold Ramis even admitted that nobody had ever intended to make a sequel to the original film, and the writers only agreed after pressure from Columbia Pictures to release a new movie because of the huge box-office success of the original (which has raked in over $300 million.) So the answer to the questions I posed above are, respectively, "no one" and "to capitalize on brand-name recognition and make an easy few hundred million dollars."

It would be naive to think that Aykroyd (who did have a hand in writing the reboot) decided to return to the franchise over 30 years later because he desperately wanted to tell a third tale about paranormal investigations and eliminations, especially one in which he and his talented buddies won't be starring. No, this movie exists for the same reason that the dozens of other recent remakes and reboots exist: as low-risk money-making ventures that will almost certainly cash in based solely on nostalgia for a well-known and fondly-remembered name. Whereas the original Ghostbusters was a film written to make people laugh and happened to make a lot of money, Ghostbusters 2016 is a film written to make a lot of money and might happen to make people laugh. I find that to be a not-trivial distinction.

The sad reality is that a high-concept film like Ghostbusters probably wouldn't get made today. Big studios are too terrified of losing money to take risks creating new iconic films. For every original idea that makes it to the screen there are innumerable cash-grab sequels, prequels, remakes, and reboots of successful movies of the past, and it's getting worse. If that seems hyperbolic, take a look at this list of 106 remakes and reboots currently in some state of production. The list includes, in alphabetical order, Bloodsport, Cliffhanger, Clue, The Crow, The Fugitive, Highlander, I Know What You Did Last Summer, It, Jumanji, Kickboxer, Logan's Run, Major League, Memento, The Mummy, Naked Gun, Nosferatu, Police Academy, Predator, Road House, Scarface, Shaft, Short Circuit, Sister Act, Spider Man (again), Stargate, Starship Troopers, Stuart Little, The Ten Commandments, Tomb Raider, Toxic Avenger, Van Helsing, and Weird Science. Remember those? Wanna see them again, with worse writers and actors? Tough shit, because that's what you're getting.

Lest you accuse me of being unnecessarily cynical about the quality of remakes and reboots, I present for your consideration a table of remade films from the past few years, along with the Rotten Tomatoes scores of both the originals and the remakes. See if you can spot a pattern:

Robocop (1987)	88%		Robocop (2014)	49%
Point Break (1991)	68%		Point Break (2015)	9%
Poltergeist (1982)	88%		Poltergeist (2015)	31%
National Lampoon's Vacation	93%		Vacation (2015)	27%
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles	40%		Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014)	21%
Annie (1982)	50%		Annie (2015)	27%
The Gambler (1974)	86%		The Gambler (2014)	46%
Endless Love (1981)	25%		Endless Love (2014)	15%
Carrie (1976)	95%		Carrie (2013)	62%
The Evil Dead (1981)	88%		Evil Dead (2014)	49%
Total Recall (1990)	85%		Total Recall (2012)	30%
Ghostbusters (1984)	97%		Ghostbusters (2016)	4%*
*author's estimated Rotten Tomatoes score for Ghostbusters 2016

It's nearly impossible to remake an old film and create something that will compare favorably with the original, let alone equal or surpass it. Ghostbusters 2 had the best shot at doing that, having been made by basically the same people just a few years later, and it failed. There's no reason to think that Ghostbusters 2016 will buck this trend - in fact, there are lots of reasons to believe the exact opposite. Let's actually take a look at that trailer.

The Trailer

I've learned everything I need to know about what kind of movie Ghostbusters 2016 is going to be from the trailer. First of all, the text at the beginning reads "30 years ago, four scientists saved New York." That's not even accurate. Winston Zeddmore's character was not a scientist. I mean, I know this sounds pedantically nit-picky, but come on, just replace that word scientists with another word so it's a correct description of the original film. Christ, we're off to a great start. At the 0:42 mark, we see our first gag, which looks like a recreation of the famous scene in the original when our protagonists encounter a ghost for the first time. One of the characters in the new film is holding a video camera as Ray does in the original, and one of the others is attempting to talk to the ghost, as Peter does in the original. I won't recount what happens in that scene in the original (because you already know), so by comparison, here's what happens in the same scene in the new film: the ghost vomits an absurd amount of green ghost barf all over the Peter analog. This is not nearly as smart or clever as the same scene in the original.

The next segment from 0:45 to 1:18 is basically pointless exposition (in a trailer? why is this in the trailer?) about who the Ghostbusters are and why they're involved in this business. They literally say "we've dedicated our whole lives to studying the paranormal," "Holtsman, you're a brilliant engineer," "Erin, no one's better at quantum physics than you," and "you guys are really smart about this science stuff, but I know New York." NONE of this nonsense was needed in the original film. We find out who the main characters are and why they decide to start a ghost-catching business entirely through the visuals and situations, not through painfully obvious exposition in which the characters basically announce to the audience who they are because the screenwriter can't figure out how to get that information across in a different way. It's laughably lazy writing. In the original film, we know that Ray, Peter, and Egon are psychologists because we meet them in a university context. Peter is conducting an experiment, Ray is looking for a video camera and excited about a recent paranormal disturbance at the New York public library, and Egon has a stethoscope pressed to a table at the library. We get that Egon's the smart one because of the way he looks and talks. We assume he's smart enough to make all the complicated ghost-catching equipment because he just looks and acts like a scientist. We find out everything we need to know about our main characters by how they act. In this new film, either the screenwriter is too incompetent to be able to do this effectively or thinks that the audience is too stupid to understand what's going on unless the characters blatantly say what's happening in the film.

1:20 to 1:26 introduces us to the new Ecto-1, which is a Cadillac hearse (as opposed to a Cadillac ambulance) because reasons. Why is this so similar to the original? This was an opportunity to distinguish the new film from the original by choosing a novel and fun vehicle for the Ghostbusters to tear around town in, but instead the film just recycles almost exactly what the original had. It's even got the "Ecto-1" license plate, as if two groups of people would independently settle on that vanity plate designation. Yawn.

1:27-1:33 is the next... "joke" to show that the ghostbusters are neophytes who haven't quite gotten the hang of their job yet. Two of them try to say "let's go" in an uncoordinated way, because that's funny I guess. Do I have to mention how the original film showed the audience that our heroes had no idea what they were doing? All of the scenes in the Sedgewick Hotel are hilarious attempts at figuring out how to use the equipment to catch a ghost successfully, during which they terrify and nearly incinerate a cleaning woman ("What the hell are you doing?" "Sorry... thought you were someone else.") and make such waste of the hotel ballroom that one wonders if perhaps things weren't better before the ghostbusters' efforts. (And before you cry apples to oranges, the cleaning woman scene is in the original theatrical trailer for Ghostbusters.)

2:09 to 2:23 is where I need to bow out. According to yet more staggeringly direct exposition, ghosts have the ability to possess humans. (They do in the original too - remember the keymaster and the gatekeeper?) The trailer decides to show us a completely brainless scene in which one of the ghostbusters is slapping and yelling at one of the other ones who is possessed by a ghost. Screaming and smacking someone in the face. There's no wit or nuance to any of this. It's lowest-common-denominator physical comedy handled in the broadest way possible. I'm done.

CGI

Another point that strongly favors the original film over the remake is the use of special effects. The original Ghostbusters had a fairly large budget - $32 million - and made frequent use of special effects of various types. Some of them are laughably bad, like the poorly-animated clay terror dogs, but most of the time the effects are practical rather than computer-generated, and they look (mostly) real. The film was even nominated for an academy award in 1984 for visual effects. There are multiple shots of CGI ghosts in the Ghostbusters 2016 trailer, and they all look like bland, fake computer renderings. We're so spoiled by ubiquitous computer-rendered special effects these days that we've become completely apathetic about them. Special effects don't have the ability to dazzle the audience anymore, not like the scenes with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man did in 1984. The budget for the new Ghostbusters film is reportedly $154 million, but nobody is going to be impressed by the visual effects in the new film. Paradoxically, the practical effects of the film 30 years older are more believable and impactful than the renderings of today's most powerful computers. Not only are they real things, but the actors in the scene can interact with them in a believable way. As powerful as CGI has become, the technology limits creative possibilities in some cases rather than expands them.

Nightmare fuel for children in the mid-80's

And Finally, for you SJWs

You might have noticed that I've made it this far without mentioning that the main characters in the 2016 reboot are all women. That's for good reason, namely that the fact that the main characters are women is irrelevant to the quality of the movie. People on the Internet™ are making quite a fuss about the fact that the film has been remade with an all female cast, as if that's somehow interesting. As if there exist actual people who will not go see a movie simply because it stars [insert minority] rather than land-owning white males aged 18-34. This is absurd. Equally absurd are the people labeling every criticism of this new film as brash sexism and misogyny. This is the same sort of repugnant nonsense that George Lucas tried to peddle when nobody would distribute his pet project Red Tails, a terribly-written film about the Tuskegee airmen in World War II. Since it featured a primarily black cast, Lucas hurled accusations of racism at Hollywood in general for not wanting to distribute his film, when in fact executives who saw it more probably just noticed that it was awful and didn't want to pay to promote it. As others have already pointed out, it's rather convenient to remake a film with a cast of any minority group and then simply cry bigotry in response to any criticism. I'll state it plainly: Ghostbusters 2016 should be judged on its artistic merit, just as any film should, and nothing else. It doesn't get points simply for including women, nor does it get to duck valid criticism about what appears to be a shallow film with more style than substance. Not liking a film with women in it and not liking a film because it has women in it are different things. Stop with this.

And In Sum

Is it unfair to judge a film so harshly based solely on a 2 minute trailer? Yeah probably. It's my blog, fuck off. Regardless of how the actual movie is, though, the fact remains that the motivations behind its creation are questionable at best and shameful at worst. If feminists would like a legitimate gripe about this movie, it should be this: that this cast of presumably talented women is wasted on a cash-grab remake of a comedy Goliath it can't hope to replicate instead of creating something memorable, iconic, and new. There can never be another Ghostbusters, and that's not the fault of any man or woman.