After all these years of suffering under a hopeless crush, I’ve finally gotten my heart’s desire. I am literally (sort of) sleeping with John Stuart Mill. And let me tell you, darlings, People magazine needs to make up a new contest, because he is the sexiest man no longer alive. Or at least he’s the sexiest moral philosopher no longer alive. For one thing, he is HUGE—485 pages, not even counting the extended bibliography and prodigious notes. Now like most women, there’s nothing I like better than a long, slow read. But it’s not just the size. From the first time I read the Autobiography, On Liberty, and of course On the Subjection of Women, I was sure JStill was the only man who would ever really get me (except maybe Captain Kangaroo).

Picklebuns! Picklebuns you guys! I don’t know what’s more exciting, the pickle or the buns. And by exciting, I mean arousing. Did I say arousing? I meant awesome.

So, I while ago, I made an Abridged Classic for Pathfinder, an appalling example of racism in cinema, and also an appalling example of cinema. And man, there was plenty to show you. Especially because writing about this movie just doesn’t do it justice. It’s one thing to write, “The Native American characters are useless.”

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Cartoons! Wooo!

It is a pune, or play on words.