Leslie Knope VS Liz Lemon


First of all, let me say that this is my fiftieth post on Zelda Lily since I first began in late July of this year. I am so happy that I get to write for this marvelous blog. I hope that you have all enjoyed reading my posts as much as I have enjoyed writing them. I love you guys.

Leslie Knope VS Liz Lemon: this is a contest between awesome, hilarious ladies whom I absolutely adore. I do not even mean the actresses who portray them—whom I love so much and probably equally. I mean the characters—the protagonists of the NBC comedies Parks and Recreation and 30 Rock, respectively.

Both shows are wonderful and hilarious, and provide an endless supply of hilarious quotes. But while both have wonderfully comical views of the world, are portrayed by marvelous ladies, and have a fondness for an overabundance of unhealthy food, I have to say that Leslie Knope has the edge—and here is why.

Leslie Knope’s life is much more together than Liz Lemon’s. Leslie Knope has a rising political career, which has its hilarious ups and downs. Liz Lemon’s life as a writer for The Girly Show is in constant crisis.

Leslie Knope embraces her sexuality. While I am not a Reagan fan, I am such a fan of Margaret Thatcher, and she and her dreamy boyfriend Ben Wyatt roleplay (as we have heard in accidental voicemails on the show) as various political figures while in bed. She also really enjoys making out with Ben, where Liz Lemon seems fearful of sex, sexuality, and willfully ignorant of sex itself. That is just not something that I can understand. And while Liz Lemon has many admirable qualities, that alone makes me wonder if anyone should aspire to be her.

Leslie Knope is a much better mentor, and not just because Liz Lemon is surrounded by pathologically insane people while Leslie is mostly just surrounded by goofy people.

Leslie Knope’s office is filled with portraits of marvelous, strong female politicians. Liz Lemon’s office is filled with cluttered sadness.

Both have their home lives as a wreck. Leslie Knope’s home is a suffocating hoarder nightmare. Liz Lemon’s home, while much more physically orderly, is in chaos because Liz is often unsure of what she wants. Despite the fact that every relationship that she has ever had has failed (which is, you know, normal), she is still pursuing love at every opportunity. And while any sane person would date James Marsden when given the opportunity, she sort of reminds me of a much more intelligent, older Taylor Swift in terms of her hopeless pursuit of romance.

Basically, Leslie Knope knows what she wants. Liz Lemon is always looking to others for life advice. I kind of just wish that Liz Lemon would meet Leslie Knope and get advice from her.

Or, if not, settle down and just allow herself to be happy. She already knows that food is the key to that. So she should go for it.



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This post isn’t about ABC’s Once Upon A Time series, but a lot of that Disney-influenced fairytale show revolves around people pursuing their own happiness (which, in some cases, means destroying that of those who have wronged them). And that show, among other things, definitely has me wondering about different people’s definitions of happiness, and what sources they find for it.

Plus, you know, happiness is kind of integral to human existence.

And there are a lot of different types of happiness.

For example, there is a sort of happiness that comes from hate. I don’t mean the angry, raging sort of hatred. And I do not mean bigotry. I mean a calm and pure hatred for an evil person who has grievously wronged you to such a degree that you can only imagine what your life would be like if you had never encountered that person. A cold hatred of sufficient intensity is such a sweet and satisfying sensation that it is almost an ecstatic experience. One can only imagine (legally, anyway) how satisfying it would be to erase the object of one’s hatred from existence.

Some people come from a different line of thinking, and believe that true happiness comes from forgiveness—from letting go of that hatred. These are probably the sorts of people who don’t cope with the world by fantasizing about murder (like, is there any other way to read about Chris Brown or Michael Vick or Casey Anthony and stay sane?). Personally, I don’t know how they …

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The results weren’t exactly shocking, but it seems as though the amateur anthropologist ignored one very, very large factor — how the change in clothes made her act or react.

As her “dowdy” self, she would sort of shuffle around, looking sad and ask for free stuff, which I’m guessing made a lot of people wonder if she wasn’t “on the dole,” as it were.

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