I ask myself that a lot. In times of craziness, if I’m stuck in some kind of Hellmouthy situation or just plain want to punch some idiot in the face, my inner voice, rather, one of my inner voices, whispers “what would Buffy do?”.
Since I obviously can’t go around staking my way through life, which, when I really think about it though, would sure simple things up a lot… uh, forget I said that last part. There will be no staking on my watch.
The pointy point I’m trying to make is, in case you haven’t picked up on it already, I’m slightly(completely)obsessed with all things Buffy.
But how can I not? Buffy Anne Summers saved the world. A lot. And not just the thousand and one apocalypses she and her Scoobies averted, I’m talking about real-life worlds and real-life people who, through the magic of television/comics/books/etc have had their own personal world saved through a creation of Joss Whedon’s brain.
Pshaw, you may say. How can a silly show with a silly title be so important as to be called a life-saver? To that I say, apparently you’ve never watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
I can write an entire manifesto on the influence Buffy has had on my life and at some point, I probably will. I can establish a connection with nearly every episode easily, but now is not the time because the only Buffy episode running through my mind these days is The Body, the episode where Buffy finds her Mother dead on her own couch. I’ve always had a hard time with that episode because I’m a pre-worrier; I knew without a shadow of a doubt that someday I would be in Buffy’s stylish yet affordable boots. But that would be in the future, far far in the future.
I certainly didn’t expect my own Mother to die two weeks ago.
So now I understand too well why Buffy falls to her knees and vomits.
Now I understand the stoic look on her face, the efforts to hold back the tears because things have to be done.
Death comes for us all, hell, even Buffy died twice but she came back. Moms don’t come back and no amount of wishing can make it so.
Dammit, I did it again didn’t I? It’s like I can’t do anything without mentioning the loss of my Mom.
I started this wondering WWBD, intending to write something light and fluffy and full of Buffy-love yet this uncontrollable mind of mine has a mind of it’s own. So here’s what I’m gonna do; the following words were said by Anya, a former vengeance demon with no understanding of death:
Anya’s Speech in the Body.
Anya: But I don’t understand! I don’t understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean I knew her and then she’s , .. there’s just a body and I don’t understand why she just can’t get back in it and not be dead anymore. It’s stupid. It’s mortal and stupid. And Xander’s crying and not talking and I was having fruit punch and I thought well Joyce will never have anymore fruit punch ever, and she’ll never have eggs or yawn or brush her hair, not ever and no one will explain to me why..
No one can explain, Anya, that’s why no one is telling you how this all happens, because not a one of us knows.