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The Killjoys Can Leave Harley Quinn Alone Now, Thanks

The modern Harley Quinn from ‘Suicide Squad’ should be a social justice warrior’s dream. Yet the group that rallies for ‘choice’ despises any woman who chooses differently.


Ever since “Suicide Squad” was announced, I have been beyond excited. This was to be the first film debut of Harley Quinn, one of my all-time favorite characters from DC Comics’ Batman series.

Originally she was Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist at the famed Arkham Asylum. In her introductory comic “Mad Love,” Harley was described as Joker’s playmate, an equal, as demented and sick as the green-haired, mad clown. Her ambition was to become a pop psychologist, and she managed to be assigned to the Joker with a tell-all book in mind.

Even before their introduction, Harleen admitted to finding super-criminals glamorous, and her aspirations and interests made her the perfect partner for the Clown Prince of Crime.

Suicide Squad spoilers within.

The modern Harley Quinn should be a social justice warrior’s dream. A psychotic woman who looks like a SuicideGirl model, running around taking bad guys out with a baseball bat, holding her own with the boys, saving the day? Shouldn’t they be hoisting Harley on their shoulders (metaphorically, of course—wouldn’t want to be ableist and assume you all have the strength)?

Instead, Suicide Squad is being accused of “using and abusing” Harley. Why the uproar over Harley’s sexuality? That is mostly talk and little action. Despite some flirting and licking of the bar on her cell, she only has eyes for her clown. Her costume (which frankly is an improvement over the spandex onesie) is a major point of contention as well, which is surprising. Should feminists really be slut-shaming Harley for her choice of clothing?

SJWs Attack Love, Contentment

The only true fly in the SJWs’ ointment for perpetual self-wounding? Harley is first and foremost Joker’s girlfriend. She is head over heels in love with her Puddin’. Despite the perceived abuse (which is not present in this movie like it has been in other mediums) and the life of crime constantly on the run, she loves him wholeheartedly. He loves her back, attempting to rescue her again and again because she is his queen.

The only thing she cares about is Joker. She is the tatted-up, deranged version of the happy housewife the feminists so often rail against. The group that rallies for “choice” truly despises any woman, real or fictional, who chooses differently. This is Harley’s true crime.

Of course, the whiny buzzkills are painting Harley as a victim. The filmmakers are responsible for her limited role as a moll, her desire to be with Joker, the brief flash into her truest desire—which is to be a normal housewife, married to the man she loves with a baby on her hip and curlers in her hair.

“She’s anarchic, but not really, and a good time, but not really, and she’s fucked up, but not really—or at least, not really in a way the movie’s ready to take time to explore,” bemoans the BuzzFeed review. Harley can be a schizophrenic murderess, wielding a gun and a bat while wearing hot pants, but how dare she be in love. How dare she choose to be with her man? How dare the film show her as the character she has always been in every medium?

Harley Represents Choice

Paul Dini, the creator of Quinn, said recently that his creation embodies feminism, as she represents choice. Time and again Harley has chosen Joker above all. In the comics, when he fires Harley, she runs off and joins forces with Poison Ivy, but at the end of the day she just wants to go home and take care of her man. This is the most repulsive thing to a feminist or social justice warrior. Love and devotion.

Of course, the other women in the movie will be completely ignored since there was only one blonde in love and hot pants. That’s a bit sexist of the feminists.

This is yet another attempt by the buzzkill crowd to co-opt another franchise they’ve never cared about before their crusades to destroy fun for everyone else. Thank goodness we have such brave souls, armed with WebMD diagnoses and Tumblr knowledge about catcall-triggered PTSD to educate we the lowly comic book and cartoon-watching fans.

After all, they were so helpful with “Ghostbusters.” That $144 million attempt to pander turned out really well, right?