While The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Season 2 is every bit as charming and effervescent as we’ve come to expect, the latest episodes make it impossible to deny what we suspected but ignored in Season 1: Midge Maisel is kind of rude.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, given our protagonist’s aspirations in the male-dominated field of standup comedy. In 2018, women on TV (and in real life) are done apologizing and pretending to be perfect. Midge is no Claire Underwood or Serena Joy,  but when we extol her virtues, let us not pretend that to be demure and polite is among them. She’s aggressive in ways to which the average viewer can actually relate.

In the immortal words of Sigourney Weaver on USA’s tragically short-lived Political Animals: “Never call a bitch a bitch. Us bitches hate that.”

We meet Miriam “Midge” Maisel (Rachel Brosnahan) in Season 1 of Amy Sherman-Palladino’s pastel-colored Upper West Side fantasy, and we fall for her immediately. Because, yes, Midge is endearing and witty and well-dressed – but she is also the type of woman who has definitely been described, perhaps to her face, as “a lot.”

Midge is the type of woman who has definitely been described, perhaps to her face, as “a lot.”

We’re set up to see Midge as the life of the party, an irresistibly charismatic presence in any room she enters – and this she is, thanks in no small part to Rachel Brosnahan’s commanding performance (Brosnahan herself, it should be noted, described Midge as narcissistic and privileged). She is the friend who requires more attention than the others, who charms a room by entering it or steers the conversation where she needs it to go. Midge effectively hijacks dinner parties to workshop her jokes, to the point where other guests must sit rapt in silence. That’s great work at the Gaslight – less so in a living room.

“There’s a cutthroat aspect to Midge’s ambition,” creator Amy Sherman-Palladino told IndieWire. “In Season 2, Midge is learning that she will not stop going on stage and talking about her husband, even though she loves him. That’s a tough thing to learn about yourself.”

Midge is unusual in her own life because of the women to whom she is compared; her sister-in-law, her friends, even her foe Penny Pann are polite, nice women. Midge sees little allure in being nice and little more, but endless intrigue in being the loud one, the funny one, the weird one – all of whom thrive when they’re being a bit rude.

In the show’s magnificent pilot, Midge stumbles on stage drunk and her wine-fueled rant becomes her first standup performance. Rude! Most of her performances since then are like this: riffing on events in her daily life with an eloquence any standup would envy, not least because these sets are actually scripted dialogue played to look like the improvisations of a natural-born talent. 

In Season 2, Midge leaps up on stage again – sober, and a seasoned comic. She just starts talking at a room full of people, none of whom signed up for this, in a language most of them don’t speak, which necessitates the presence of a translator. (Miraculously, all the jokes break through the language barrier. Sure!)

None of this is to impugn Midge or this strawberry ice cream-flavored white fantasy concoction of a show.

It gets worse. At a friend’s wedding reception, she misreads a thank-you shoutout as an invitation to perform, and starts a cringeworthy string of riffs that start with sex jokes about the priest and end with outing a shotgun wedding. Imagine this friend at your wedding, sauntering into the spotlight and offending the religious leader who was kind enough to give you the nice room with the windows! That’s rude!

Midge recovers because she is charming and spectacular and marvelous and all that. She trades on her privilege, not in a calculated way, but because she is genuinely precocious and sheltered. She was undoubtedly a gifted child who grew into an ingenue, who followed the path laid out for her (as we saw in Season 1) and now expects to forge a very different path that still includes the conveniences of wealth and community. She doesn’t know adversity and she doesn’t take “no” well. It’s what makes her such a plucky heroine, and why her brashness is often overlooked.

In the Catskills, Midge responds in the worst possible way to seeing her father in the audience. It’s for our benefit, as an audience. Secondhand embarrassment is a tried and true staple of situation comedy, and wanting to crawl out of our skin on Midge’s behalf is – based on historical evidence – just good TV. 

She stands up there, and she kills, all while talking about her parents’ sex life and her own sex life, often to her father’s face. More than anything, the child of immigrants in me wanted to just drag her off stage because Midge, this is rude and also maybe because my parents and I have yet to acknowledge that sex even exists.

But I digress. In the final episode of Season 2, Midge misses her friend’s baby shower because of a gig – a shower she had been diligently planning and talking up. This is another fairly standard conflict: The protagonist, on her hero’s journey, willingly or unwillingly sacrifices something she once held dear. Midge pre-Penny would never miss a social engagement for a friend, but now she is working toward something else.

Missing the shower itself isn’t rude. It is tough to have it all, regardless of your gender – we just accept a greater baseline of rudeness from men (we’re getting better at that, though). If Midge really wants to cut her teeth as a comic, she’s going to disappoint people close to her now and again.

No, what’s rude is that when she calls Imogen to apologize, she insists on being put on speaker to tell everyone at the party that she’s a lousy friend who’s sorry. That’s just plain theatrics, my dear, and it is both unnecessary and – say it with me friends – kind of rude.

None of this is to impugn Midge or this strawberry ice cream-flavored white fantasy concoction of a show. If anything, it makes The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel a more real, more tangible, more likable as a whole because its heroine isn’t. 

Midge’s rudeness – her audacity, her narcissism, her precise chemical mix of less socially acceptable traits – is what makes her a brilliant character and what makes us root for her as a comic. She’s not afraid to go after she wants, especially in a world where women aren’t allowed to want fame or success.

And that’s just fine.

Each December, we bust out the holiday cheer, from obnoxious Christmas music to Love Actually on a loop. I’m all about this — I usually leave my tree up until my January birthday — but I start with a different movie: About Time.

From Love Actually writer-director Richard Curtis, About Time is comparatively trimmed down, following the life of Tim (Domhnall Gleeson), the young son in a family where the men can travel through time. There are no other sci-fi frills (and probably some plot holes as a result, but who cares!), since as Tim’s father (Bill Nighy) notes, they can’t change anything outside their own lives. 

Instead, we watch Tim try to make the most of his existence, not with money or glory but with happiness, plain and pure.

I’ve loved About Time probably since I saw the trailer in 2013. It was the first movie I saw in theaters after moving to New York that fall, with an old friend and diehard movie buff who was seeing it for a second time. We saw it just after Thanksgiving, which gave it a built-in holiday association for me.

As with Curtis’ previous work, what that truly stands out is the writing – specifically the dialogue, which is unique a way that reflects, you know, how people actually talk, but remains memorable in its specificity (“She wasn’t like other mums. There was something solid about her, rectangular”). 

Because Tim grew up by the sea in Cornwall, much of the film occupies its own world, and the parts that take place in London are evergreen, unencumbered by technology or pop culture references.

Like Love Actually, About Time has some issues. After a lovely meet cute with Mary (Rachel McAdams), Tim loses her number and has to meet her again for the first time. He’s just a tad creepy (Gleeson’s mopey innocence works extremely in his favor here), crashing a party just to run into her and parroting her own views about Kate Moss to pique her interest. But we understand from that first meeting that they genuinely share a connection and have something worth exploring. If it weren’t for timing, they’d be together — and timing is one thing on Tim’s side.

(There is also something just off about watching him relive the first time they have sex until he’s performed to his satisfaction – perhaps the borderline manic enthusiasm of the third attempt, which would have to alarm Mary since it was the first time for her.)

Though marketed as a rom-com, About Time is about family, and it’s about life. You start with Tim’s nuclear family and their idyllic life in Cornwall, then to his found family in London. The father-son relationship is particularly poignant, thanks in no small part to Nighy’s wonderfully dry, supremely British performance as a father who’s more likely to heckle than emote but somehow manages to convey the same amount of love. I remember laughing at my friend for crying at this in the theater, and now it makes me tear up every time.

You hit the big notes with Tim – marriage, childbirth, tragedy – and and watch him learn to take life one day at a time, to appreciate the little things as they come. 

When I see this movie, I see the major moments in my life, whether or not they’ve happened yet. I feel that feeling you only get between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, when winter is still welcome and magical and new. I remember my friend and the promise of New York, and for a few days, at least, I remember to cherish the little moments that make every day special.

About Time is now streaming on HBO Now.

Audeze has a pitch for the audiophile gamers of the world, and it’s called Mobius. 

The high-end headset is packed with bleeding-edge sound tech from one of the top players in the space. The listening experience is further enhanced by 3D audio plugins from Waves and head-tracking capabilities that are meant to combine for an immersive soundstage.

The big catch? It costs $400. That’s roughly $100 more than even the most expensive gaming headsets on the market. Even if Mobius is better than any of those, is it really better enough to justify the added cost?

For me, yes. After spending a couple of weeks tooling around with the headset, I’m ready to return this loaner unit and buy one for myself. For anyone else, it really depends on what you want — and, vitally, what you need — out of your gaming cans.

Hot cans

Let’s start with the hardware. The Mobius is fitted with planar magnetic drivers, an audio delivery system that conducts sound through a flat diaphragm rather than the coil found in more common dynamic driver headphones. 

If you’re not a sound geek, all you really need to know is you’re generally going to notice better separation between the distinct audio sources in whatever you’re listening to. It’s a question of clarity; 3D audio helps you pinpoint the direction a sound is coming from, but clearer audio keeps busier moments from becoming a muddy cacophony.

After spending a couple weeks with the headset, I’m ready to return this loaner and buy one.

Planar magnetic headphones also tend to be a little heavier, though the same could be said of gaming headsets in general. The Mobius didn’t feel appreciably different on my head than the Astro A50s I’ve been using for the past seven years. 

The comfy leather earcups form a snug fit, allowing only minimal outside noise to get through. I didn’t have any discomfort during lengthy gaming sessions, even in cases where I was running three Destiny raids back to back in the space of a night, a four-hours-minimum commitment.

The build quality in general is top-notch. The headphones are made out of thick plastic with a matte finish. They’re hefty and solid in a way that suggests durability, and the padded headband that extends over the top of your head can be twisted and bent without fear of it snapping in two.

Visually, the Mobius has an understated look. It’s chunkier than your typical set of studio reference monitors (think Sony’s venerable MDR line), and more colorful. But with either of Audeze’s color options — blue-on-black or copper-on-black — you’re not getting gaudy, overstylized headphones that scream “I PLAY ALL THE GAMES.” Pluck out the detachable mic and you can wear a Mobius on the street with confidence.

All that said, the ideal Mobius listening experience depends on being wired into a nearby computer (USB-to-USB-C cord included). While you can ditch the USB connection and connect via either Bluetooth or (through an Aux port) analog stereo cable, you’d lose the headset’s biggest benefit in the process: Simulated 7.1 surround sound.

For PC gaming, the Mobius is tremendous. I play a lot of Destiny 2, and immediately noticed the Mobius’ impressive soundstage the first time I fired up the game. Playing through one of the game’s public events, I could easily pinpoint the direction new threats were approaching from and I felt the impact when a badly bounced grenade blew up at my feet.

For competitive online activities like Destiny’s Crucible or the new Blackout mode in Call of Duty: Black Ops 4, you walk into each match with an immediate edge over the competition. You can hear the world around you, and in the process pick up intuitively on where in the virtual space a nearby enemy’s footsteps are padding around.

Image: adam rosenberg-dustin drankoski / mashable

You can ostensibly shape the makeup of your game audio even more by selecting one of the included sound profiles. In my own experience, this comes down to personal taste. I barely touched the “Ballistics” profile despite the fact that I play lots of shooting games; the “Flat” and “Music” profiles both delivered a better experience.

Plenty of gaming headsets offer positional audio and multiple sound profiles, but the Mobius is just plain better at it. The bass response is impressive, conveying deep, low rumbles clearly when explosions rock the virtual landscape, even while bullets are whizzing by and other players are barking orders in voice chat.

The Mobius is also a fine option for movies/TV and music listening thanks to its spacious virtual soundstage. The 7.1-channel surround sound works just as well with Netflix or Google Play Music, though I found the latter more useful since I don’t normally watch movies at my desk.

Slumming with stereo

Unfortunately, it’s not quite the same experience once you untether. Switch to Bluetooth (or analog cable) and you’re stuck with stereo sound. It’s not terrible; the Mobius is still a high-end headset, so you benefit from its precise sound and wide frequency response. But you’re losing what is arguably the most impressive feature.

Plenty of headsets offer positional audio and multiple profiles, but the Mobius is just plain better.

Over Bluetooth or analog stereo cable, the soundstage feels flatter. That difference is very noticeable when you swap back and forth between 7.1 and stereo. You get used to it over time, but there’s not nearly as much depth and detail in what you’re listening to when you’re not wired via USB.

This means that those who game primarily on a console, whether it’s Nintendo, PlayStation, or Xbox, will want to look elsewhere for a headset. There’s not currently support for USB-wired audio on any modern consoles, and while Audeze is apparently trying to change that, it hasn’t happened yet.

The included USB cord is perfectly fine for a PC gaming rig or workstation where your desktop or laptop is nearby. But at 5 feet, it’s not going to be long enough for most home theater setups.

The only feature I struggled to find a real use for was the head tracking. It’s built right into the Mobius, and an included app even allows you to customize the accuracy of the tracking by inputting the dimensions of your head, in centimeters.

It’s a neat gimmick. With tracking active, you can swivel your head around and still have a sense of where your “front” speakers are (as opposed to the “front” moving with you as you turn). I just don’t see much purpose here, practically speaking. 

Head tracking has its uses with virtual reality systems, though the mainstream VR headsets have that functionality built in. Since the Mobius loses surround sound support when it’s not tethered — and there’s no way to wire it into an Oculus Rift or HTC Vive directly, anyway — it’s not really built for VR.

Image: adam rosenberg-dustin drankoski / mashable

Fortunately, head tracking is easily ignored. I ended up leaving it on, but you can turn it off easily with a long press of the 3D Audio button (there are also manual and automatic modes that take different approaches to setting the “center” reference point).

Control freaky

The on-headset controls are actually where you’ll find the steepest learning curve in the Mobius experience. It doesn’t look daunting initially: There are two volume dials, one for the headphones and one for mic monitoring (i.e. how much of yourself you hear; the game/chat audio mix is handled on the PC side). There’s also the aforementioned 3D Audio button, a power button, and a mute switch.

Each of the volume dials actually doubles as a button. So spinning a dial up or down changes the volume, but pressing the dial down and then spinning it has a different effect — and those effects sometimes change, depending on whether you’re connected via Bluetooth or using the headset for non-gaming media.

These advanced controls are detailed in the manual. You can use the volume dials to answer calls, change tracks, and switch the currently active audio profile. There are two problems with this.

I got used to ignoring the headset controls and relying on keyboard shortcuts instead.

One: It’s too much of a good thing. There are so many different commands and command modifiers, getting used to all of them is a confusing chore. It’s inconvenient to open a manual and double-check how things work anytime you want to answer a call or switch to another song. And with the two dials positioned so close together, it’s all too easy to interact with the wrong one.

What’s more, the button aspect of each dial is too sensitive. I’ve lost count of the number of times I tried to change the volume, only to accidentally switch to a different sound profile. Granted, these are issues that are bound to improve over time and with heavy use, but it’s not the most intuitive setup.

That said, the Mobius is built primarily for use with a computer. Most power users, and gamers especially, probably have keyboard shortcuts (or built-in media controls) for changing volume. During my short two-week review window, I just got used to ignoring the headset controls and relying on the keyboard shortcuts I’ve always used instead.

Changing the audio profile is also easy to do without touching the headset. Whether you’re using the the Windows app or the mobile app, it’s just a quick menu selection. 

Next level audio

I’ve used a lot of different gaming headsets over the years. My trusty Astro A50s served me well for a long time, and they were great. I recently switched to a Turtle Beach Atlas for wired PC gaming, and no complaints there either. The market is littered with gaming headsets that range from good to great.

The Audeze Mobius is on another level. It’s a cleaner, clearer surround sound experience than I’ve run into before, and the wide frequency response delivers high-quality audio whether you’re in 7.1 or stereo. 

That $400 price tag is going to be steep for lots of gamers. But just speaking personally, this is the first gaming headset I’ve found that’s enhanced my play while also delivering a listening experience that tickles my nerdy inner audiophile.

Nymeria howls.

That impressive vocal ability was just part of what I learned about my newly adopted pup, Nymeria (aka “Meerie”), as I watched her, pacing and barking non-stop, from a dog nanny cam live feed on my phone, while I sat in my office, miles away. 

I was heartbroken. 

I thought she was adjusting, doing fine! But a livestreamed feed showed me that her adorable affection while I was around translated to separation anxiety when I wasn’t. On the live feed, I had to watch her clearly suffering, or at best bored, and there was not much I could do about it.

Meerie is a 4-year-old medium-sized mutt who I adopted the weekend before Thanksgiving. She came to me from a dog rescue, after she was surrendered by previous owners to a shelter (SOB). 

She was instantly loving and cuddly and fun, but I was a bit nervous about how she was doing on her own when I went to work. She wasn’t acting out or anything, but I still wanted some assurances that my new pooch was happy.

So one week after adopting Meerie, I ordered a Furbo dog camera so I could keep tabs on her whenever when I was in the office, or even just out to dinner, ya know, having a life. 

Furbo is a dog camera that looks more like a white minimalist vase. Its camera captures a fishbowl view of whatever room it’s in, it has a speaker, and it shoots treats housed inside the Furbo out to your pooch. Through the intuitive Furbo app, I can livestream a video (with sound!) of my living room, as well as talk to my dog by speaking into my phone, and I can launch snacks by pressing a treat-shaped button. 

You can also get alerts when your dog barks, or pay extra for a “virtual dog nanny” that helps keep tabs on them, and prepares a video of clips from your dog’s day. Ordinarily, it’s pricey — it usually goes for $249. But I made it my one Black Friday purchase while it was on sale for $114. 

Cameras that keep track of your baby or animal are nothing new. But pet-specific cameras are enjoying something of a boom: according to Wired, the pet-cam industry is expected to grow 26 percent through 2021. And according to Geekwire, sales of Furbo in particular skyrocketed by 20X in the 36 hours after Ellen DeGeneres included it in her 12 Days of Giveaways holiday special.

After purchasing one, I quickly learned that, as a dog parent, ignorance might have been bliss. 

Where I thought my new dog was adjusting to her life with me just fine, she was actually spending a good chunk of the day wracked with anxiety. I could toss her a treat through Furbo, but she was too anxious to eat it. I spoke through the Furbo, but that just confused her, and made her sit by the door, expecting me to come through it. 

It occurred to me that the Furbo was, perhaps, overkill. Knowing that she was miserable wouldn’t shorten the time it would take for her to adjust. But I also wondered, was not knowing how my pet was really doing irresponsible?

Image: Rachel kraus/mashable

After seeing how Meerie was coping with alone time, I left her challenging toys full of treats for her to play with; they went ignored. I expanded the amount of the house she could go into, since she hated getting put in a back room; that just gave her a larger pacing area. I closed the blinds so the goings-on outside wouldn’t stress her out; no effect. I played NPR for her; no change. 

The only thing that made her calmer and quieter while alone? The passage of time, as she learns, slowly, that I will always come home.

Furbo turned me, in part, into a helicopter mom, worrying and searching for increasingly ridiculous ways to soothe my pup, responding to a situation that’s perhaps out of my control. But it’s also maybe turned me into a better dog mom, more in tune with the internal life of my previously shelter-bound pet as she settles into a life that’s entirely new. I know how much it means to her when I come. I know that skipping the gym in favor of getting home an hour earlier is an annoyance for me, but means a lot to her. 

To me, this sort of fretting and attention — about whether and how to soothe her, and the meta-question, of whether I should care about soothing her at all — still feels silly, at least in part. She’s a dog, right? She literally eats her own poop sometimes. She’ll be fine, whether I’m watching her or not. She’ll still lick me and jump and play and nap, whether I’m reflecting on my technological dog parenting choices, or merely capitalizing on a good Amazon deal. 

Image: rachel kraus/mashable

But testing out parenthood on my licky, furry little beast has also inspired me to wonder about, and test drive, what kind of parent I really want to be. 

I fear eventually becoming a helicopter parent, the accusatory term levied on my parents’ generation and my own, because it reportedly produced us grit-less millennials. And because being too anxious about your kid or pet kinda makes it seem like you have no life of your own. 

But today, there are more mommy blogs and baby trackers than ever before. And if I don’t use these high-tech tools on my hypothetical future human child, is that the negligent digital equivalent of just letting them play in the dirt?

As with most reasonable conclusions, my best guess is that my parental attitude, and how that translates to my use of technology to monitor my child (furry for now), lies in the middle of the two extremes. Since I can’t always be with my pooch, I like the ability to know how my dog is doing — when I want to — and make relatively easy changes to my own behavior in response. But I’ve turned off the barking notifications, and won’t be paying for any of Furbo’s supplemental services. In other words, I’ll use technology, but won’t obsess over it, or let it take over my life.

Image: rachel kraus/mashable

That’s the decision I’ve made for Meerie and me. But I recognize that all of these challenges and micro-decisions get ratcheted way, way up when faced with a real, human baby. There are endless debates on parenting blogs about whether to nanny cam, or not to nanny cam. Whether to do data entry, or respond to your child’s needs the old fashioned way. Whether to give your kid an iPad, and if so, how much screen time is allowed? The number of questions about the intersection of tech and childrearing is already dizzying, and right now, I’m just standing on the sidelines. Frankly, facing down these questions makes me terrified to have kids in the digital age at all.

But perhaps, becoming familiar with my “parenting” attitude ahead of time can help guide me as the questions and stakes become bigger in the future. I don’t think I’m capable of a totally laissez-faire approach, at least when it comes to Meerie. But I would like to trust that her growth and confidence will come, naturally. Seeing that process in real time through the Furbo app — as Meerie spends less time barking, starts going after her treats, and even sits down on the couch sometimes — is reassuring me that things are, and will continue to go fine — whether I’m watching or not.

At this point, I want a front seat to Meerie settling into her new home. So, despite the helicopter worrying, I’ll still be logging onto Furbo. Sometimes.

The “biggest crossover ever” is coming to Super Smash Bros Ultimate. on Nintendo Switch.

That’s how Reggie Fils-Aimé, president of Nintendo of America, announced onstage at The Game Awards on Thursday one of the five mystery downloadable characters coming to the highly anticipated game.

Ready? It’s Joker, the Phantom Thief from Persona 5, a character you’d only usually be able to play on a PlayStation console. Fils-Aimé mentioned that the DLC will come with a themed stage and theme music for each character.

While there’s no release date for the DLC yet, or word on the other four downloadable characters, Super Smash Bros. lands on Nintendo Switch on Dec. 7.

From the original creators of Fallout, Tim Cain and Leonard Boyarsky, comes a new single-player RPG we’re supremely keen to jump into.

The Outer Worlds is the latest sci-fi adventure from Obsidian Entertainment and Private Division, with the first trailer dropped during the 2018 Game Awards on Thursday.

Coming in 2019 to Xbox One, PS4, and PC, the game is set in a corporate colony at the far reaches of the galaxy, where a deep conspiracy threatens to destroy everything. Classic.

Initial hype for BioWare’s answer to Destiny, the upcoming online multiplayer Anthem, was pretty tepid. It looked like every other cookie cutter never-ending co-op shooty game, a genre quickly becoming oversaturated.

But now the newly released 2018 Game Awards trailer has revealed more about Anthem‘s story. And it’s clear the studio behind Mass Effect is distinguishing its game by focusing on what they do best: telling engaging narratives.

Most notably, the trailer revealed the game’s main villain, the Monitor.

Giving off very Darth Vader meets Thanos vibes, the Monitor believes he can harness the chaotic power of the mysterious Anthem force — for good, he claims. But ending the needless suffering of the world will require authoritarian control.

Hmm, sounds familiar, buddy. And it doesn’t usually work out that way.

Image: the boring company

Long criticized for his time management skills, billionaire inventor Elon Musk is once again behind schedule on a major project.

This time it’s the underground Hawthorne test tunnel for The Boring Company’s high-speed transit system underneath Los Angeles. A big public opening experience was scheduled for Tuesday, but a company spokesperson emailed over a new date set for Dec. 18.

Musk tweeted about the delay, expertly spinning it as an improved event that just needs a bit more attention and time to pull off. He promised “more than a tunnel opening” with autonomous transport cars and car elevators. Maybe something like the elevator approved for under a Hawthorne home the company purchased? Guess we’ll find out later this month.

As a 2016 Gizmodo article succinctly (and still accurately) states, “Elon Musk is always late.” As The Boring Company is another Musk brainchild, it makes sense that the delayed pattern carries over.

The Hawthorne tunnel project website still lists Dec. 10 as the completion date for the first section of the 2-mile tunnel, and that may be the case. But it’s the public debut that Musk promised that is getting pushed back.

Back in October, Musk promised free rides for next week after an opening party the night before. Those looking for a free ride will need to clear out their schedules — this may take a while.