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Opinion: Downton Abbey Ruined an Entire Generation of GILFs

Let’s get this out of the way. Yes, I am an incel. And, yes, I know that’s “very 2017” of me. But facts are facts! As an incel, one of the few things I have in my love life is my fantasies. Specifically, fantasies about GILFs. But even these meager fantasies have been dashed since a plague was cast upon the world. A plague that the elderly have been the most susceptible to. No, not covid. Downton fucking Abbey.

Downtown Abbey has ruined an entire generation of GILFs with their glamorization of the elderly girlboss who fucks. Off-camera, I assume.

I need my GILFs to be as unsullied as my virgin bush-whacker. But Downton Abbey is filled with characters like Isobel Crawley and Lady Rosamund Painswick who not only tolerate but support lewd behavior betwixt the sheets. Under the battlements of Highclere Castle, no less! These GILFs set a terrible example for legions of impressionable grandmothers, which is making it really hard for me to “crank up the drawbridge” if you know what I mean.

Shows like Downton Abbey have turned what would otherwise be pristine and noble GILFs into, and I’m sorry for using such a crass term, frivolous charlatans. Between their obsession with aristocratic class hierarchy and glamorization of fancy dinner tables, the line between TikToking zoomers and GILFs (the real greatest generation) has faded into oblivion.

Thank God for Violet Crawley, the “countess of shade,” who fervently defends tradition and modesty at all costs. Her snark conservatism gives me hope that at least some GILFs out there still have a strong moral compass. I hope to one day find a Violet of my own so we can settle down and build a family that we can later tear apart if their values differ from ours. What can I say? I’m all about that trad-life.

Maybe the lesson here is that things change. People change. Society changes. We can either dig our trenches and fight tooth-and-nail for the past or we can adapt and change with the times. Maybe people like Violet and I are out of touch. Maybe it’s time to accept that our expectations of romance and relationships aren’t how the real world works. Or maybe I’ll just go back to jerking off to The Golden Girls.