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A Good Day

Written by Steven L. Sears
Directed by Rick Jacobson

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Pursh on A Good Day:


Well it looks like our two favorite wanton strumpets have once again foiled Cheese-hair, Julius Cheese-hair, king of the diabolical follicles. And unlike that diseased miasma that we were subjected to last week, A Good Day  actually has a plot and a purpose. Not to mention moments of brilliance from both Le ROC and La Lucy.

And though I find the enmity between Xena and the bedizen bad hair bozo tiring, at least this time Cheese-whip didn't take center stage and pull energy away from the big picture Xena story line. Instead Cheezer was well used as the plot device that he is, and that nicely set up another glimpse into the unfolding tale of Xena and gABrielle, which at the moment seems to be something like search with me, my love, and I shall search with thee. Answerless though we may be, let us not live out that wretched crucifix prediction from Miss Crab Apple Alti.

Ah, but we know from our brief viewing at Alti's cinemus predictus that the hate fest between Xena and Cheese-wad isn't about to end any time soon. And since I couldn't fit this into the Sin Trade II review I'll tell ya right now that I didn't like the way gABS wore her hair to her prescient crucifixion. That '90's Seraphin look just doesn't suit our ingenious poetess. Aside from being too prickly and business woman sophisticated for those brown hippie boots, it didn't properly accent her soiled, ill-fitting and largely uncomplimentary dress.


Ahhhh, Cheezer. What a way to watch the shining haired one go down.The Price meets When In Rome meets flashes of Alti's slow motion Sin Trade II pretty, flouncing in the heat of battle, futuristic vision Warrior Princess hair, all with a dee-lish quick pix of brave Xena as an incognito Roman and gABrielle doing morality a la the killing fields. Wow.

And then there's the Cheezer. Gawds I hate Cheezer. He's avarice with a funky hairline and a genetic inability to accessorize. He's bellicosity with dirty locks. As an avatar of follicle neodiabolism he's a perfect ambassador for worldwide patriarchy. And Poopey the Maggot isn't much more palatable. They both flawlessly practice and personify the vapid boneristic craft of the fathers. Witness his hairness, the Cheezed One, referencing his destiny in yet another over done Cheese-ball dramatic moment. Even after our girls knock his dick in the dirt Mr. Cheat-o Cheese-o clings to that destiny blabber like it matters to anyone else besides him. Cheezer without his destiny is like Phred Phobe without his "God Hates Vidalis" sign.

And while Phred's god may hate Vidalis, some Goddess out there sure loves the rest of us, because we've just been blessed with the third Joxer-free episode this season. Hey three out of five beats none out of five any good day.


Xena looks marvey in that Roman mini-skirt and uptighty fighty hat. In fact for a quick instant while I was squinting at the tuber in a desperate headache inspiring attempt to ward off a wretched and poorly timed bout with bad reception, she actually looked, for a brief second, like Dax. Now this is not to say that Dax has helmet hair. Let me be clear about that. It is to say however, that our warrior babe could wear a bowling ball on her head and accessorize with plastic Spock ears and still look gorgeous. That is of course predicated on the easily assumed presupposition that she'll not be carrying any of Phred's signs, no matter what she's wearing. Ahh yes, we would fight to death for you brave Xena.


Well, I don't know about death, but I'd definitely take Phred Phobe on in a one on one bowling match, with the loser having to live the other's beliefs for one whole lunation. Lunation, that'd be a month Mr. Phobe. Month, a derivative of the ancient word "moonth." A moonth, buddy, that's 28 days. There's thirteen lunations in a year Phobe. A happy witch told me that that's why you patriarchs are so afraid of the number thirteen, ya know, because of it's association with the moon, and the moon's association with women's cycles, and guess what babe. My cycle's got more zip than your lip. My team's just better. I'll put Cyane and Xena and Lao Ma and gABS and Ephiny and Solari and all of the rest of our archetypes, whom your team has tried to erase, up against your squad any old good day. And after I win the bowling match I'm sending your tired butt to Roseanne's healing circle for 28 days of contemplating peace and tolerance. Cyane and Xena will be guarding the exits so you can't escape, and you won't be allowed to bring your nasty signs or attend any funerals during your exercise in contemplation. You'll be spending every lunch hour with Lao Ma and gABrielle discussing your feelings of inadequacy and your uncanny ability to project your inner fears and self loathing onto other more happy people. In the evening you'll hang out at Xena's Mom's dyke bar with Ephiny and Solari, to see how well you've learned your daily lessons. Before beddy-bye you'll watch The Bitter Suite with the children and have supervised (we can't trust your kind with kids) snack time with them while you discuss the many facets of love, and it's transformative potential in the context of collective betterment. Lastly you'll spend supervised one on one time with Xenon, who will enlighten you about his life as a four legged among the two leggeds.

May the best bowler win.

(especially on the battlefield of slow motion)

Yes, we would bowl to prove a point for you brave Xena. But our beloved gABrielle is still having trouble with that concept. And that's what makes her gABrielle, and what makes this show's macro story line episodes so consistently layered and engaging.

And speaking of engaging, the music that accompanies the slow motion gABrielle as field general sequence brought the core feeling of being absolutely blown away to a cellular level. Brilliant!

No there's nothing quite like sword wielding marauding boyz in mini-skirts to mar the Earth's sacred countryside and put gABrielle into a spinning tizzy. Honestly she didn't cry this much when her overgrown mutant rodent grandson offed her own daughter after her lover put the sword kabash on her prickly grandboy by stabbing him in the back. Goodness. Poor gABS.

Dead children and grandchildren aside, we mustn't forget that gABrielle is the moral arbiter on this show. She honored her core self by deliberately misdirecting that spear. It would neither be right nor consistent for her to kill out of revenge inspired by the heat of the moment. In tossing the spear aside gABrielle remained true to herself and acted in the only way that she could. Brava Xena Staff for keeping our Bard's core self intact.


This was a good episode, no doubt, but there are just some moments when heterosexism rears its clunky head with obstruction so tenacious that it is unforgivable.

gABrielle: I could have saved him. How do I get over that?

XENA: I can't answer that question. Because there's nothing I can say that can take away that feeling you have. You wanna know that what you did was for all the right reasons. But with that pain in your gut and weight on your shoulders the best you can come up with was that it was a good day for fighting.

Dramatic pause.

XENA: I've seen so many changes in you. Things I could have never expected, like you coming out and becoming my girlfriend for one. But as easy as that change has been I know that it too is for a reason. All this is for a reason. Otherwise, what's the point? I was asking myself that same question when I met you.

gABrielle: Well, gee Xena, you just poured your heart out to me and it was really loving and beautiful, but since neither of us are allowed to have any emotive energy for the other beyond gestures of surface comforting, I better turn away from you right now, and not respond at all to anything you just said, and instead go give my attention and standard greater good speech to bow and arrow boy. That's appropriate and realistic, don't 'cha think?

XENA: So in other words we won't be embracing right now, which if we were a man and a woman we would OF COURSE be doing, because that's what people on TV do in moments like this.

gABrielle: Right. Exactly.

XENA: What crap-ola.

gABrielle: Sorry baby. Us girlies gettin' too lovey-dovey-do smoochy makes the Phobe clan uncomfy.

XENA: Well the Phobe clan makes me uncomfy, but that doesn't mean I run around with mean signs telling them what they can and cannot do.

gABrielle: You know Xena, there has to be a reason that they act the way they do. Perhaps the Phobes got too busy making signs for the funeral circuit and forgot about love, compassion and common decency.

XENA: Well, good Goddess on high, if they've forgotten about that, then what's the point in living? Where's the joy in that?

gABrielle: Sad isn't it?

XENA: It sure is. I know! Let's right now you and me take a stand for the greater good.

gABrielle: You mean fight the Phredite Phobatrons?

XENA: I mean take a stand. From now on whenever I let go of a tear-inciting diatribe, you respond appropriately!

gABrielle: Kay! Deal! From here on out, we'll do this a little more realistically. But for now I think I better go over and give junior the g.g. lecture, because as a reflection of the younger me, he's an important element in this episode.

XENA: Right. Good point.

gABrielle: Then what should we do?

XENA: Well, after you deliver an inspiring speech to your lesser you should sashay your cute Bardie butt back to my arms so we can start working on our intimacy issues borne of dominant culture oppression.

gABrielle: Xena that sounds really heavy and I've already had a pretty rough good day...

XENA: We gotta do the hard work baby.

gABrielle (sighing): I know, but do we have to do it right now?

XENA: I'll tell you what, you go talk to what's his name, we'll do some hard work, and then we'll get a huge pizza and re-watch the video of Roseanne and her witch's circle invoking peace and tolerance.

gABrielle: Are you trying to bribe me with comfort food and promises of viewing more images of the lost archetypes that we're all starved for?

XENA: Yup.

gABrielle (giggling): My dearest love, that sounds like the perfect ending to a good day.


c. 1998 Pursh
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