I Will Find a Way to Kill Carrie Bradshaw

I had a conversation with some girl with different priorities than me about what we'd most like to happen in the world in our lifetimes. Hers was woman President: totally noble and good and stupidly likely. Mine is hands-down making contact with aliens; unlikely, but I would be so unbelievably grateful to have been alive for such a momentous event.

She looked at me like I was the alien, though, and laughed very condescendingly. It was that sort of uncommitted laugh, as if she was putting out feelers to test whether I was actually serious. Well, I'm sorry, boring-face, but if you're not excited by the prospect of communicating with extraterrestrial life, that's not a problem with me, that's a problem with you. I bet when you see the word "cosmos" you think it's short for cosmopolitans. That's a lame cocktail and you're a lame person, and the first female President is going to think you're lame too. Despite what Sex and the City 2 tells you, simply being female is no longer enough to give you social currency. There are far too many super-cool girls out there for that to work anymore.

Parents: please indoctrinate your daughters with The X-Files, Star Trek, Futurama, Carl Sagan's Cosmos, E.T., Star Wars, etc., so that more girls end up emulating Turanga Leela, Dana Scully, Deanna Troi and Leia Organa (I don't like calling her "princess") instead of four grating, shallow women who are going to Abu Dhabi for some reason in a sequel. Or just indoctrinate them with Pixar movies, even though Pixar's blockbusters remain pretty boy-centric as far as main characters go. Whatever, girls will figure out how to use Wall-E as a role model, regardless of his robot gender.

Yes, I am being weird and militant, but ever since seeing the Sex and the City 2 trailer, and in anticipation of all the stupid promotion that is to come, I am basically on a mission to excise Carrie Bradshaw and all her stupid clothes from existence, using some kind of black hole missile strapped to a T-Rex.