I very much like this appraisal of HBO's Looking, a show which I think is both very much growing into itself and much more complicated than many have given it credit for. There's more than one kind of identity.
With admirably precise detail, "Looking," as its title suggests, illustrates how common it is to mistake sex for intimacy, romance for love, satisfaction for contentment -- blind spots that follow no type. Indeed, it was in the midst of this sequence that I finally stopped worrying if my love of "Looking" was simple identification, a way of seeing myself. We're all just looking for the future, and it promises to be anything but boring.