Some people have decided that Ellen Page's March 1 SNL sketch was a sly way for the cheeky tomboy to let us know she digs girls while simultaneously rolling her sarcastic-teenager-eyes at us for even caring.

Like, why does everything have to have a freaking label?

I'm not sure what we can gather about Page's sexuality from this skit, but I do think it brings up some interesting lesbian generational clashes, namely that dykes under forty don't go to Melissa Etheridge concerts.

Etheridge is your mother's lesbian, a member of the Old Guard in the archives of herstory, a relic from the era when the only requisite prop for the hit act at a womyn's music festival was an acoustic guitar. These days you'll need a mustache, a strap on dildo, or an identical twin to have any cred whatsoever.

The SNL skit did have one relevant line. "What's a lesbian?" begs Page's character defensively, as though Glinda had just asked if she was a good witch or a bad witch. Andy Samberg has the obvious answer: lesbians are ladies who have sex with each other.

In 2008, sure. In the 1970s, a key element of a lesbian feminist social identity was being a "woman-loving woman," prioritizing female relationships and fighting male dominance, whether or not fucking was involved. The emphasis was on political solidarity.

One has to be dreadfully clueless not to realize that it is currently out of style - for people of all genders and persuasions - to "burn bright with sister fire."

Nobody wants to be anyone's sister anymore, not when women are so dumb, slutty, and humorless. No one wants to get stuck dragging their witless, brain-dead, lying skank of a sister to the Obama meet-up. It's embarrassing.

Also, "labels" are only for lame-ass old people who recognize that minority groups need discrete social categories in order to agitate for civil rights and be taken seriously. But that's way less fun than flitting about from one sexual trend to another, in order to project an air of exotic, reckless abandon.

What's a lesbian, indeed.