OH, GOD DAMN IT, 2017, STOP KICKING ME IN MY OVERLY ANALYTICAL AND CYNICAL ASS WITH STUPID SHIT I'M SUPPOSED TO HATE! THESE STRANGE FEELS BURNING IN MY HEART HURT LIKE A MOTHERFU--*clears throat*
Well, that was very undignified of me. My apologies.
Despite the obnoxious recent track record of consuming media that has pushed me beyond the comfort zone I maintained for much of my life, I don't feel particularly conflicted or violated in any psychological manner in regards to Free!. Thank whatever deity or deities that do or do not exist for that reprieve.
Over the course of a week last month, I have marathoned Free! with its two seasons, handful of OVAs, and prequel film. After trying to have no expectations for the series' quality, I found myself really enjoying Free!. And felt feels. Felt enough feels that I laughed. And cried. Good to know that I'm still a woman.
That's the short story. The long story requires me to go back to 2012, when a little known Hollywood film caused a bit of controversy in some circles thanks to some good old double standards regarding good old fanservice.
