Ah, the ’90s. Times were simpler back then. Twitter was something only birds did. Facebook didn’t exist and the only way to get on the internet was through a dial up: Bleeeewwwwblerrrrrrrrberrrrrrchhhhhhhhhhhhhsssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeewaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeee…you get the point.
Tamagotchis were the pinnacle of mobile technology. Car phones were considered space-age, but they were the size of basketballs and plugged into the center console permanently. Books were exclusively in print. I could go on. But one thing has remained the same throughout this tumultuous period of change from then to now – my love for one Joshua Browning Jackson Carter, more commonly known as Joshua Jackson, or as I affectionately call him, JJ. I know he’s taken by the glamourous Diane Kruger, and don’t get your knickers in a twist…I wouldn’t dare break up the couple so beautiful you need sunglasses to look directly at them. BUT I LOVED HIM FIRST. To that end — a quick trip down memory lane.
You probably don’t remember a deliciously twisted movie called Crooked Hearts, but from the moment I saw JJ as an 11 year old Tom, I was sunk. I was beyond sunk. I had a Wiccan-worthy shrine to JJ in my room for 5 years too long – the dead flowers smelled so much I had people concerned there was a body in my closet. At least 3 times I nearly burned the house down from devotional candles. It was like a scene from The Craft gone horribly awry, or more apt (Pupil)-ly, The Skulls. Through all three installments of The Mighty Ducks, my devotion never wavered.
But my love for him deepened two oceans worth when I saw him in Cruel Intentions. I know this is a cause for major concern, considering Blaine Tuttle is unattainable for many reasons; firstly, he’s a fictional character, and secondly, he’s gay. I wanted to kiss his face so hard – JJ’s portrayal as Blaine demonstrated acting chops that put him on par with young Leo. When he trilled about Greg McConnell and Spartacus with glee, well, my heart sang. Look at that punim. It’s all, “Who, me?” “What would I know about Greg McConell and ruining peoples lives, Valmont?” Love in its purest form.
I won’t talk about Dawson’s Creek because that’s when I had to learn to share, and that was a traumatic time in my life. Suffice to say, JJ made the crossover from film to TV seamlessly and dominated both. You guys all know and love Pacey and if you don’t get glasses and put them on your face. There are certain standards known to be true in life, one is Pacey > Dawson. Another is Pacey > Everyone. Simple equations. I must not be the only one that feels thusly: sweet JJ has such a good sense of humor, he FoD’d a video whereby Pacey-Con chronicled his devoted fans. Much like Swifty’s, I shall dub us “WITTERBEES.”
And our boy has transitioned over into another smash TV series, Fringe. He’s banging, pun intended. Peter Bishop is worthy of his own devotional shrine — he’s a jack-of-all trades fluent in English, Arabic, Persian, Cantonese, and Spanish. And who doesn’t love the sessy local boy from the wrong side of the tracks made good. IRL, for real, who else could deliver those lines in 5 languages and make us believe all that fluency and hotness. ONLY JJ. BUT — le sadness – the end of Fringe draws apace. During the TCA presentations this week, JJ gently teased the final season of Fringe and only fanned the flames of my love anew. Will they? Won’t they? Can’t Olivia and Peter just get on with it? Why can’t we all just be friends?
In conclusion, Joshua is the paragon. Pinnacle. The ultimate. A true constant in an ever-changing world. He has a movie with Marisa Tomei in post-production, currently, so fear not! He will return to a screen the size of which is worthy of his lovely fay-che. ICYMI here are some quick trivia bits with which to keep yourselves warm at night. He’s Canadian. He’s allergic to nuts. He plays the harmonica and likes dogs. And he’s a Gemini. As am I. WE R MEANT TO BE, PACEY. DON’T FIGHT IT. CALL ME NOT MAYBE.