Be honest. At this point, would the news of alien colonization even surprise us? How about a sinister collaboration with extraterrestrials and our own government? Or what about a government conspiracy to cover it all up?
Not likely, but who’s to say?
After what we’ve seen in the last four years, there aren’t many news headlines that could truly shock me. (See: the washed-up rodeo clown in the White House and his ego-fueled circus of spiteful, careless and shady characters.)
“Tr**mp: I could ‘shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose voters'” (CNN)
“Tr**p now says he holds Putin responsible for election interference” (CNN)
“Tr**p Asserts ‘Complete Power to Pardon’ in Saturday Tweetstorm” (The Atlantic)
and the latest…
“Tr**p’s debate callout bolsters far-right Proud Boys” (CNN)
And if this dimwit’s presidency of equally atrocious headlines weren’t enough, 2020 comes along like shit icing on the shitcake.
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- Australia’s wildfires burned with unprecedented devastation.
- U.S. assassinates Iranian general in drone strike.
- Brexit.
- COVID-19 (!!!)
- DT acquitted in impeachment trial.
- Murder hornets?!
- The unjust deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and too many others by police officers.
- Protests and social unrest (See: Black Lives Matter movement).
- RBG dies.
- Yet another toxic election season…
This list, though heavy enough to sink the small boat of anyone’s sanity, still does not take into account all of the personal losses, tragedies and paper cuts that we endure as individuals on our smaller planes. You know, the stuff we have to deal with on the daily—pandemic or no pandemic. I know too many people who have lost folks that they love, pets that they love, jobs, businesses, etc. On top of everything else? It hardly feels survivable.
My aim here isn’t to get all dramatic, but the events speak for themselves. 2020 has felt (collectively) like the conscious equivalent of waking up from a nightmare only to realize that you are in another nightmare.
“Is this real?” I ask myself at least once a day. “Is this normal?”
Honestly? I would rather it be aliens. Take me, green bois.
Ok, enough with the hardships of 2020. You know them. You’ve been experiencing them too. Maybe I just needed to vent, paint the backdrop of my latest escapist obsession: The X-Files.
During these dark and uncertain times, as we near the inevitable apocalypse, one must find ways to cope. Some ways are healthy, others are not. For me, there’s nothing quite like a good ol’ obsession with something hopeless to get me through a tough spot (see: my adolescence spent drowning in unrequited love). These two—along with their characters’ drawn-out, unfulfilled sexual tension over 9 seasons—are why the word “obsession” was invented. I mean, c’mon. NINE FUCKING SEASONS
(Fun fact: they are both Leos.)
I’d grown up with The X-Files, of course. And I remember loving it then (and being ultimately terrified by the opening theme song), but being able to watch each episode in succession? Well, it’s not good for an obsessive personality like myself. In my recent X-Files marathoning, I found myself utterly fixated with more than two fictional drool-worthy FBI agents, but the actors themselves. It wasn’t long before I developed my own theories about the show… and it had nothing to do with little green men. You ready?
Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny are in love with each other IRL.
This revelation sent me down a rabbit hole: reading interviews, watching off-screen interactions, studying body language, scrutinizing Tweets and analyzing their love-life timelines via Wikipedia.
I had become so invested in their assumed relationship, I was calling them Gillian and David and unpacking my unfounded theory with anyone willing to listen.
“So like, Gillian crushed him immediately,” I said, turning to my partner in bed one night when I couldn’t sleep.
“She was super young, 24. He was older and mysterious and probably didn’t really give her the time of day. And as a fellow Leo, I know how we like that chase sort of thing. He’s really withholding, you know? You can just tell. I looked it up on the birthday personality website and it said exactly that!”
Not that it makes me feel any better, but I’m clearly not alone. There’s a whole community of people out there obsessed with the possibility of a real-life romance between David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson—Gillovny, as they’re called. It doesn’t help that the actors seem to publicly flirt with the idea themselves.
Hi @GillianA why did you keep twitter a secret from me all these years ? I’m here and I heart scully 😉 What’s up?
— David Duchovny (@davidduchovny) April 15, 2014
I’m going to wrap this up with a little fan art. I mean, a true celebrity crush wouldn’t be actualized until there was some homage or public dedication made. Don’t worry! I haven’t created any ripe fan fiction nor any romantic montages on YouTube (like this one—OMG!). But I did create this… and it kind of took off. I’ve got like 10+ orders so far.
I’m not sure what all this Mulder Scully making is going to do for my obsession. Gulp.

I hope you’ve been finding some healthy things that help you to cope with what’s going on. Each day, it seems, there’s a new tragedy, a new jaw-dropping headline, a new reason to shut up inside ourselves. I know there’s no answer and no end in sight, but just hold on a little longer. Maybe like Mulder and Scully’s long-awaited kiss (season 7, folks), the anticipation and all of what we went through in the meantime in wait will make the triumph all the more sweet.
At the end of this episode, “Millennium,” Mulder and Scully converge in a hospital waiting room. He has just been bandaged up after another near-death encounter (where she, of course, had saved him). They are standing below a waiting room television watching the ball drop in NYC as Dick Clark counts down to the new year. Just after 2000 lights up, Mulder turns to Scully and they kiss, slowly and sweetly.
“The world didn’t end,” he says.
“No, it didn’t,” she says back.