But if he's not wrong, it's still not okay that he said it, but you've just created a much larger issue, which is that you're taking one of the biggest things to happen to a given minority in television in the last ten years, which is a smart and glamorous show that manages to honor many of the realities associated with that minority, and using that show to tell this constituency that their dreams are worthless and that the little asterisk by their every accomplishment -- of which, I assure you, they are fucking already aware -- is something that yes, white people do often wonder about, and in their uglier moments think about. Which is sort of a nightmare on every fucking level.
Now, you know I love this show and I think it's smarter than we give it credit for being, but I think the show has given itself quite a fucking challenge here. Do they pull it off? I think they do, but I don't have a vested interest either way, because I'm more interested in getting paid than getting praised. On the other hand, I've never been in the position of having to wonder if on a hypothetically level playing field -- which will never actually exist even if we live to be thousands of years old -- I actually earned what I got, and if that's true, if anybody would believe it. Which is nasssssty to think about on both sides, because "affirmative action" is used as both invocation and curse word almost as much as "meritocracy," which is a word that shouldn't mean what it does. So yeah, I do love this episode -- for going there, for staying there, and ultimately making an entirely different and more useful (nonpartisan/post-hate/bilateral/real-world) point about it -- but we can now safely say that whatever Hilda says is what I'm going to end up agreeing with... And you and I both already knew that.
Betty feels very sad, and Hilda and Ignacio come and scream at her in Spanish for about a million years, making her feel ever more Mexican, and she takes them aside and tells them about what Marc said, and how she called YETI and they "didn't exactly deny it," and then Hilda -- God love her -- is like, "Who fucking cares how you got in?" Betty, of course, totally cares, which is what having feelings gets you, and Hilda's like, "Look. You get a certain amount of advantages no matter who you are, and you have to use them, because the negatives always outweigh the positives. Scorching-hot babydaddy? Gunned down for no reason, spent the month in bed with a ghost. Gay son on a date? One slight case of gay panic and those tickets are useless. Mom died, Dad sucks, last boyfriend married, latest boyfriend thinks plain white candles are the way to a woman's heart, my only friends are my fat loser sister and my tiny gay son, and I put in weaves for a living. That's my career. So yes. I dress like a whore when I go to the butcher shop, and if you don't understand what I mean when I say that, I will seriously get somebody in here to figure you out, because you need the talking cure." And she calls her breasts "the Pointer Sisters," which additionally rules.