Anyway, the next few seasons featured a dazzling array of downright offensive, ridiculous, and often illogical scenarios, many involving Will Schuester. These include but are not limited to:

Advertisement
Advertisement

Granted, Glee is a show that spawned a horrific display of dizzying plot lines, lest anyone ever forget the “hot tub super sperm pregnancy.” But Mr. Schuester’s power as a teacher was a specific sort of evil. For soon-to-be high schoolers gobbling up the show, perhaps he felt familiar, or frightening. I saw Mr. Schuester in the actions of my own drama teacher, and the freshman year English teacher that bent a bit too far over girl’s desks when giving them notes on their homework assignments. And with many of those same middle schoolers and high schoolers now in college and/or on the internet too much, they are bored at home—or school—with nothing much to watch on television. Glee, featured prominently on my own Netflix hub, is an enticing prospect in a time when television is a barren wasteland. It’s long, it’s ridiculous, and it’s instantly meme-able. Too bad it’s also haunted by “Matthew Fucking Morrison,” as the denizens of TikTok refer to him.

So, for those out scrolling the internet, wondering why a bunch of disaffected young people are banding together against the existential threat of Matthew Morrison’s existence, just know we are dealing with our Glee-related traumas as best as we possibly can. It’s not really Matthew Morrison we hate, it’s Will Schuester. In better times, this delineation would be clear. But it’s month.... what, exactly?..... of the ongoing pandemic, and we all need just a bit of space to relearn about the importance of object permanence.