Top 5: Characters I Unexpectedly Fell For, Hard

Hi everyone.

So, it's been two months.  More.  Yeah, well, um, okay.

Let's just skip over all the "where have you been" and such.

Kathleen and I were talking the other day about Legend of the Seeker; she's mid-way through S1.  I asked if she had met Cara yet, and that got us talking about the Mord Sith, and both of us agreeing that as characters the Mord Sith are kind of sympathetic.  Our conversation moved on to Game of Thrones and ended with me exclaiming how Jon Snow and Tryrion Lannister are the heroes of my heart.  (Yes, I AM amazed people will be friends with me, you don't need to point that out.)  It got me thinking about the characters that I love when either I had no expectation to do so, and maybe that I shouldn't: when intellectually they are not my kind of people, or have serious personality deficiencies, but for some reason I just totally dig them and want what's best for them.  (This isn't the same as villains I love for being villainous.)

Omar Little, The Wire
I'm only halfway through The Wire, so maybe I'll change my tune on this, but I get giddy every time Omar shows up.  Like really giddy.  Yes, Omar robs drug dealers and shoots people who get in his way, but he is so unapologetically honest about what he does and who he is that you just want to respect him.  Let's be clear, I do not want to be friends with Omar, I in no way think we should hang out.  He scares the ever living shite out of me.  He starts whistling and I get the shivers.  That said, I greedily soak up every word he drawls out; whether he be rebuking shady lawyers, or explaining the logical conclusion of what-do-I-do-with-my-hands-when-a-gun-is-pointed-in-my-face, or giving McNulty an ethical argument for becoming a state's witness. I would like to hire someone to high-five him.

Caroline, The Vampire Diaries
By all rights I should hate Caroline: she is demanding, overachieving, overbearing, and more often focused on her current boyfriend drama than the mayhem and death surrounding her.  Always planning parties that end up as bloodbaths, she never seems to catch on that being a vampire might preclude her from being a typical teenage girl.  But I adore Caroline.  She is so ridiculous, she's awesome.  Initially treated as a third wheel in the Elena/Bonnie friendship in desperate need of being placated, Caroline turned out to be far more interesting than either of her frenemies, both proving herself capable of a competency and loyalty that eludes the epically enamored Elena and demonstrating the necessary sense of humor that dour and self-righteous Bonnie sorely lacks.  (And no, I don't blame Jeremy for "cheating" on Bonnie with Anna.  Bonnie is the worst.)  I mean come on, give the girl a hand, she turned Tyler into not-a-scumbag and still managed to remain student body president.

Tyrion Lannister, Game of Thrones
It isn't all that surprising that I love Tyrion; smart matters to me more than almost anything.  Not that ridiculous "wow look at this stupid freak trick that I have, aren't I so much smarter than the rest of you" smart (90% of current police/medical procedurals, I'm talking about you), but actual intelligence.  And drinking, wenching, nephew-slapping Tyrion can do no wrong in my eyes.  I want him to sit on the Iron Throne, send everyone to help the Night's Watch against the snow-zombies, and put Littlefinger on a leaky ship heading West, because Tyrion is the bestest best there is in Westeros.  Okay, but seriously, he's smart, funny, realistic, and brave.  Tyrion rocks!

Juliet, Lost
I don't give a flip what other people say, Juliet was one of the very few tolerable characters on this show.  I enjoyed Juliet; I liked watching her grow from Ben's disgruntled hostage to Sawyer's soul-mate.  I actually got upset when she died, and her coming back in the finale might be enough to get me to plow through the last 10/12 (can't remember) episodes I haven't watched yet.  It took her a bit, but she realized Jack was a total waste of space, stood up for herself and made a decision to do what she though was right, did what no one else on the bleepedy-bleeping-bleep of an island seemed interested in and built a real life based on love and respect, which she then willingly sacrificed so that her husband could be spared the imprisonment he'd been subjected to.  But (surprisingly) Juliet continued to be a rounded person: even though she had NO reason on any earth to be insecure about hysterical, useless, whiny, self-justifying, (BORING) Kate, Juliet still suffered from the all to human anxiety surrounding seeing your man with his ex.  In a huge cast of rather unpleasant people, Juliet was a shiny surprise of someone I truly liked.

Luke Cafferty, Friday Night Lights
I think it's kind of amazing that a show can introduce a new character in the 4th Season, and make that character someone you are so glad you met.  In both physicality and personality, Luke looked to be our replacement for the departing Matt Saracen, since after all, what is a show set in Texas without a sweet little mumbling underdog for us to root for?  But make no mistake, Luke isn't the poor-man's Matt.  I would even venture to say that Luke turned out to be a better person. (Please don't kill me Internet!  I love Matt Saracen, I promise I do!)  Luke's familial situation was less dire than Matt's, it was in fact rather like a Steinbeck story, therefore he was less emotionally distraught by the unreasonable pressure of his situation than Matt, and as such was less likely to act carelessly.  (I swear, I adore Matt Saracen, but boy was kind of an idiot some times.)  For the most part, Luke acts with integrity and humility.  In his halting, sincere apology to Tami that he lied to her about his address he acknowledges that she was right to insist that he be sent to East Dillon and asks that she forgive him for betraying her trust, showing that he actually understands the underlying ethics of the situation, and all without anger or self-pity.  Even though all of his focus and hard work was directed to getting a football scholarship so he could go to college and leave the family farm, he wanted to take responsibility for the child he created with Becky, and there's no reason to think he wouldn't have been a very good father, eventually.  I didn't think there was room in my FNL heart for new people, but then there was Luke.

Top 5: Shows I Watch Alone

On the opposite side of the spectrum from when last we spoke, there are some shows that don't lend themselves well to happy fun let's-get-together-and-watch-that-show parties.  It's not that I want to keep certain shows to myself (I do not get the pseudo-hipster attitude of NOT telling people about awesome things) but rather that some shows, usually the ones that I am particularly engaged in or attached to, are not ones that I want to watch with other people.  At least the first time that I see an episode.  Some shows I have to let be mine first.

Sons of Anarchy
KP visited a couple of weeks ago and we were trying to figure out a show to watch while we were hanging out.  There was a quick mutual agreement that SoA, though a favorite of us both, just wasn't something you watched with someone else.  Part of the brilliance of SoA is that it reaches inside of you and claws at all the things that make you human.  It's visceral, terrifying, and I wouldn't give it up for a second.  But, well, it's just a private experience.

Fringe
The truth is that when I started watching this show no one I knew watched it also.  Therefore I watched it on my own and by the time other people I knew started watching I was too far ahead to invite them over for new episodes on a Friday night.  Now, the idea that there would be other people around when new information trickles in about Peter, or Olivia absorbs her next in a never ending parade of blows, or Walter makes his latest food request just seems too strange to me.

Game of Thrones
I'm too fucking involved in GoT to watch it with anyone else.  I rejoice, I cry, I yell, I bite my nails, I stop breathing, sometimes I even get to laugh.  I exclaim my love and hate at the screen.  I panic for what has happened, what is happening, for what is yet to happen, for everything.  I can't say that it is a pretty sight.  It would annoy the living bejesus out of someone to be watching this with me, and it would annoy me to try and tone down my reactions.  I was once told that a sign of maturity is to recognize and live within your limitations.  I consider it the hight of maturity for me to watch GoT alone.

Dexter
Dexter is all about honesty: are we telling the truth or are we lying?  Because so much of the show is about exposing the truth you end up as a viewer feeling a bit exposed yourself, and in that it is a little uncomfortable to glance over and see a loved one.  Dexter leaves you feeling raw, edgy, kinda giddy and very much in the mood for a bit of solitude to mull over the state of your being.

Legend of the Seeker
I'm fairly sure that if anyone saw just how unabashedly I love this silly little defunct fantasy show that they would disown me in a heartbeat.  (Actually, LilBro might have watched a few minutes with me before deciding I was a lunatic and he had better things to do.)  They might be right to do so.  But, to save both myself and them from the pain of separation, I'll just keep LotS for rainy days when family and friends are out having real lives.

The TV Girl

Game of Thrones: The Dragon(s) Reborn!

“Blood and Fire” 1.10

Wait, no, different ungodly long fantasy book series.

And if anyone tries to make Robert Jordan's desperately-in-need-of-an-editor-with-a-machete books into a TV show I will punch them in the face.  For reals.

Please be warned, this is not a coherent review at all.  Sorry.

Okay, I am in a really tricky situation.  I (finally) watched this episode on Monday.  I saved and saved it, knowing it is all we’ll have for a while.  But, because I was so busy savoring it I didn’t write any notes about the order and details of events as the show presents them.  So Thursday I went to the internets to watch the episode again, and write notes, but all of the places that I borrow videos from had nothing to give me.  (Bastards.)  Add to this some sort of huge disagreement my computer Mal (yes, named after the one and only Captain Malcolm Reynolds) is having with the wireless router in my apartment and you get my current conundrum: I know what happened in the episode and I have lots of opinions and impressions but I cannot remember enough to write a description along the lines of what I’ve done for the previous episodes.  I feel like such a failure.  I thought I would actually account for a whole season of a show, but alas, look like I have sabotaged myself, yet again.

So here’s what I’m going to do.  It’s what I do for everything else.  I’m going to talk about what I liked and what I didn’t, and I’ll give as much background information as I can/deem necessary to be clear, and I’m going to trust that you’ll have already seen this episode, or that you will watch it sometime in the future.  I might fail, but I like to announce my failure, not just slip away with a bit of dignity.  But I have to do something.

Kind of like Jon.  Okay, not at all like Jon, but good transition right?  Jon decided that he needed to join Robb, even though deserters from the Night’s Watch get beheaded, but Sam, Grenn and Pyp followed him and convinced him to return.  Lord Commander Mormont wasn’t too upset, mostly because he’s decided to assemble the men (Jon included) and go north of the Wall, to find out what’s the what with the zombies and the wildlings, as well as find Benjen Stark, dead or alive.  It might have seemed like such a cheep joke to have Sam fall of his horse while pursuing Jon, who turns back to make sure his friend isn’t injured, and as much as it was funny, it wasn’t just a throw away sight gag.  Jon needed to badly to see that honor isn’t always the most heroic looking thing, that sometimes what is right is awkward and uncoordinated.  Jon and Sam are continually struggling with the difference between expectation and reality.  Both believe the best of each other, therefore they in turn ask the other to set aside expectation (self-inflicted or otherwise) and see their own hearts clearly.  The fact that Sam does this in a (maybe unintentionally) humorous way is part of what makes him so vital, to Jon and to us.  Jon doesn’t want to betray his vow, but because he’s been taught that the world will always see him as an abomination, he can tell himself that desertion is in his nature.  He needs to see Sam literally fall to realize that he doesn’t have to, that he can live up to his vow.  And what a vow it is.  I know we’ve heard it before, but every time the vow of The Brothers of the Nights Watch fills my heart.  You could argue that the scene, the three friends gathering in an ever tightening circle around Jon and picking up the lines until they spoke in unison, was overdone, too overtly "dramatic" set in the darkness as it was.  Not to me.  To me, it was beautiful.  It was a roughly elegant example of why Game of Thrones (books and show) have captured me so fully: WORDS MATTER.  Those simple sentences (subject, verb, object) spoken from sincere hearts break through Jon's conflicted soul.   In case you’ve forgotten, the oath of the Night's Watch is as follows (from Wikipedia): 

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come. 

This is a powerful oath; it is asking men (and in some cases just boys) to completely abnegate the self, to sacrifice their entirety to be the first and last defense against, essentially, evil.  It is the fundamental human mandate, to preserve against destruction, and when they agree to this they are agreeing to do so for an entire nation of people.  The enormity of their charge radiates out of these forthright declarations, elevating the men who speak them.  Gives me shivers.

The Night’s Watch aren’t the only ones on the move.  Tyrion will be taking a journey next season as well.  Tywin, rather put out that Robb has captured Jaime and that Joffery’s execution of Ned has eliminated any possibility of peace, decides to send Tyrion to King’s Landing to act as Hand of the King while he (Tywin) hunts down the Young Wolf.  There’s a catch; Tyrion is to leave Shae behind, but Tyrion decides to ignore/defy his pops, and Shae starts packing her bags.  Honestly, if Tyrion has any hope of getting that little sociopath he calls a nephew in line, Shae is a bit of an unnecessary distraction.  But, if Tywin hadn’t been such an ass-hat about telling Tyrion not to bring her, Tyrion might have left her behind.  Because Tyrion is so good he has a sense of loyalty to his family, he wants to help them, and he wants to use the gifts that he has to create peace in his homeland.  Left to think it through on his own, he very likely would have put aside his own desires in order to fully focus on the task at hand.  If only Tywin, having finally acknowledged that Tyrion is the smartest of his children and the best qualified to put a leash on Joffery and Cersei, could have restrained his own desire to knock his son down.  He doesn’t want Tyrion to mistake (grudging) semi-respect with esteem or, gods forbid, affection.  Not only is it just cruel parenting (seems to run in the Lannister family), it is terrible leadership.  (I almost wrote “human resource management” there, and then realized that I’m not talking about my job.)  If you need someone to do something for you, and do it well, you don’t point out to him/her your disdain.  You aren’t going to get what you want/need, and if you’re operating in the context of a civil war, the stakes might be just too high to justify indulging in petty jabs.  Anyone wondering if Tywin would have made a better king than Robert should have witnessed that little exchange with his second born son, which provided a very definitive NO.  

Luckily, Tywin’s sons are so much better than he is.  I have to give away a bias, because I’ve done a shit job of holding it in, and damn it, this is my blog, no one pays me for this, and I can say whatever I want.  I started reading these books upon the recommendation of my friend Brandon (he’s kind of my geek guru and he’s way smart and funny) and he gave me a piece of advice when I started: hold back from becoming attached to the characters, because war is a fickle bitch and you don’t know what is going to happen.  I NEEDED this advice, because as anyone whose read more than about two words of what I write knows, I think of characters as real people, they take on actuality and reality within in my mind, and I get super attached to them, and way too frakking judge-y judge-y about them.  (For example, please see my INTENSE HATERD of Catelyn.)  In order to help me, Brandon mentioned to me that Jaime had become one of his favorite characters by the end of Book 4.  I was shocked, how could that possibly be?  Incest guy who pushed darling Bran out a window?  But I trusted Brandon and tried my best (with varying results) to hold off from being me about the characters.  And I kept an eye on Jaime.  Damn it if Brandon wasn’t all too right, because by the end of Book 4 Jaime was as firmly fixed in my heart as Jon, Arya, and Tyrion.  What happens to Jaime (in the books) is utterly astounding, and I’ve tried to explain it to people (both obliquely as to not give too much away as well as by going into detail without concern for spoilers) but in a way I’m still processing it, and that should tell you how stunning Jaime as a character becomes: months and months later, I’m still trying to find the words.  (One of the things that keeps me coming back to literature is when I encounter something that knocks me back to the point where I cannot form an argument around it, that frustration and awe makes me happier than almost anything on this earth.)  Why am I telling you all this?  Because as much as I suck at hiding my biases, I’ve tried harder with Jaime than with other characters on the show, in order to not spit out everything that other people might not know yet and wouldn’t be at all prepared for.  This episode (yes, at some point I’m actually going to talk about the TV show) freed me up a bit, because they are preparing us!  Jaime and Catelyn’s conversation was brilliant.  Without any hesitation he told her that he pushed Bran out the window, with the intent to kill him, but he won’t tell her why, and you get to see that he wants to.  He wants to give her the answers she needs, he isn’t trying to torture this woman who is on the edge, who with very little provocation could be goaded into killing him.  And he can’t and that doesn’t sit well with him.  He isn’t nearly the fool or the monster that everyone assumes that he is: he can’t tell the mother of the rebel leader that the king is a pretender but he recognizes that he owes Catelyn, as a mother and grieving widow, some measure of peace.  And it’s so clear to us just how thin the persona he’s taken on has become.  When Catelyn approaches him he defaults into flirting with her, to insulting her by sexual advance so that she’ll consider him beneath concern, and when she hits him across the head with a rock the shell literally cracks, he can’t hold onto the defenses he’s used to manipulate people his whole life.  We’ve seen the hint in pervious episodes that there is more going on inside him than he lets on (his comment about Theon being like a shark on a mountaintop was a particularly telling moment) but facing all of Catelyn’s rage and sorrow, caught between a desire to be honest and his sense of duty that keeps him silent, was a revelation from which there is no turning back. 

Much like there is no turning back from declaring Robb the “King in the North.”  I’ll admit it, I choked up a bit. 

Funny enough, Dany didn’t choke when she walked into Drogo’s funeral pyre to retrieve her newborn dragons. Yes, live baby dragons were waiting in the eggs she was given as a wedding present.  (The blood spell killed Dany’s baby while in the womb and Drogo’s soul still parted from his body.  Dany smothered Drogo with a pillow.  Hence the funeral pyre.)  Am I the only one who isn’t entirely comfortable with Dany having dragons? And as much as Dany is the proper person to whom the dragons would come to, it just makes me a bit nervous, because she isn’t always so stable.  I have to give Dany a break, she is very young and her upbringing was, um, unconventional.  She isn’t a particularly good judge of character, evidenced by the witch who had no trouble whatsoever convincing Dany to exchange the life of her unborn child for the continued heartbeating of her husband.  People tried to warn her that she was making a mistake, and that bitch was super shady looking, but Dany convinced herself that a) she would be treated with a certain degree of respect due to her station and family, and b) that she had really thought through all the contingencies of what she was doing.  Leadership is as much strategy as it is veneration, and being given the later by some of her followers she neglected the former.  It’s rather difficult to empathize with her when bad things happen because she REFUSES to listen to anyone, to even for a second admit that she might not completely and totally know what she’s doing, but on the other hand it’s understandable why she would behave that way, since she’s never had anyone she could trust and rely on to guide her.

But as Sansa clearly demonstrates, it is possible to have the best guidance in the world and not realize it until it’s too late.  She should have pushed Joffery off that bridge.  Just shoved that little prick for pure revenge. 

We will have to wait awhile to see if she regrets not joining the ranks of kingslayers.  It interests me to watch a season finale for a show that has a certain future.  HBO picked up a second season of GoT before the 3 episode aired, and frankly after the pilot there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this show would come to as abrupt and end as some of it’s characters.  Instead of either a cliff-hanger, some hugely surprising event that occupies the viewer’s mind creating a desperate need to see how the next season plays out (and maybe thereby stave of cancellation) or a resolution, where the various plots are wrapped up in a way that can both fulfill and thwart our expectations, what we got here was a combination of both: our character know where they have been and are prepared to set out for the next stage of their journey.

The TV Girl

Game of Thrones: Boom Goes the Dynamite

(1.09, "Baelor")

And now we return to "Jail Cell Chat" with Ned Stark and Varys, coming to you direct from the Red Keep in King's Landing.  This week's topic: peace, honor, and love; how do we prioritize?  Ok, ok, I'll stop being silly.  Varys does go to visit sadly (and wrongfully!) imprisoned Ned, to tell him that Sansa has plead for his life to be sparred, if he will confess his crimes, a suggestion Ned isn't too keen on.  Varys is nothing if not persistent.  He tells Ned that when he was still a real boy he was raised by a troupe of actors, and the ultimate lesson was that everyone has a part to play.  Ned's part is to serve the realm.  According to Varys, even though Robb is marching south with an army (news to Ned), Cersei is worried about Stannis, a merciless battle veteran, therefore Cersei would rather have a tame wolf than a dead one, so in exchange for his confession, Ned will be allowed to take the Black.  Ned isn't swayed; Stannis is Robert's true heir and Ned isn't in any mood to pretend otherwise.  See, Varys might have been raised an actor, but Ned was raised a soldier, and as such "learned how to die a long time ago."  Undaunted, Varys plays his ace; Ned may value his honor more than his own life, but what about Sansa's?  At The Twins, Theon is playing target practice with ravens, shooting down all communication trying to escape the Frey compound.  After reading Lord Frey's birthday wishes for his grandniece, Robb, Catelyn, Theon and the bannermen talk strategy.  The Northerners need to cross the Trident, The Twins is the only crossing, the Frey's have held The Twin for over six hundred years, so either Robb can waste his arms forcing Walder Frey to let him pass or someone can try to go talk to him.  Since she's known him from childhood, Catelyn offers to go play let's-make-a-deal with the Late Lord Frey.  Inside the dank and crowded hall of Lord Frey (on the other side of the Trident) Catelyn receives a frosty welcome from Lord Walder, who is reminded of the courtesies by his heir and then (one of his many) bastards.  Catelyn might have rather just skipped them; she couldn't quite contain her revulsion when Lord Walder slobbered all over her hand.  Having performed his socially prescribed assault, Lord Frey dismisses his frighteningly enormous brood.  Lord Frey expresses his exasperation to Catelyn that her father didn’t attend the last couple of weddings he had, and isn’t mollified by Catelyn’s insistence that her father has been ill.  Lord Frey resents what he perceives as years of the Tullys looking down on the Freys, dismissive of any esteem offered, because what he really needs is marriages to get his progeny out of his house.  Lord Frey points out to Catelyn that he while he made vows of alliegence to Lord Tully, he made similar vows to the King, so from one perspective Robb is nothing more than the leader of traitors.  But then Lord Walder undercuts any legitimate ideological debate he could be having by asking Catelyn why he should give a shit about any of it.  Up north at The Wall, the refuge of unwanted children (hint hint Lord Walder), Mormont asks Jon how long until his hand is healed because he’ll need both hands to wield the sword Mormont is giving him as thanks for saving his life from zombies.  Mormont is giving Jon his family’s sword, which his son had the good grace to leave behind when he ran for his life from Westeros, but he’s replaced the bear’s head on the pommel with a wolf’s head.  Ignoring Jon’s protests that he cannot take the sword, Mormont warns Jon that “it is a man’s sword, it will take a man to wield it” meaning men don’t have petty bitch-fights with their sworn-Brothers, a message Jon gets clearly, so he offers to apologize to Thorne.  The Lord Commander has save Jon the trouble of making peace, he’s sent Thorne to King’s Landing with the zombie hand, to make the situation real for lil’ King Joffery.  Sent to fetch the Lord Commander’s supper, Jon goes to the dinning hall, a journey punctuated by pats on the back and good-jobs from his Brothers, and concluding with his friends loudly chanting their desire to see the sword.  But because there is some horrible cosmic rule that Jon isn’t allowed to be remotely happy for more than 5 minutes, Jon notices that Sam looks troubled.  With absolutely no pressure at all Jon gets Sam to relate the contents of raven Sam read to Maester Aemon earlier: Robb has headed south with his bannermen.  Sober again, Jon’s loyalty to his brother comes to the forefront: “I should be with him.”  Catelyn returns to the Northerners camp, bringing news of her negotiations.  Lord Frey will let them cross the Twins, and will pledge his men to Robb’s cause.  In exchange Robb will take one of his son’s as a squire, Arya will marry one of his sons (or maybe grandsons) when they are both of age, and Robb will marry one of his daughters, when the fighting’s done.  Robb is apprehensive about the price to be paid for Lord Frey’s assistance, especially hearing that beauty doesn’t seem to be a family trait.  Resigned that if he wants the help he will end up with an ugly wife, Robb agrees, since after all, Ned taught him that you make the sacrifice asked of you in order to do what must be done.  And the Northerners cross the Trident, on their way to meet the Lannisters.  Internally contemplating if he should do the same, Jon is asked by Maester Aemon to help feed the ravens, in order to give Jon something to occupy him while Maester Aemon asks him some personal questions.  Jon has no response for the Maester’s question of why the men of the Night’s Watch take no wives and father no children, but it is simply so that they will not love, for “love is the death of duty.”  Maester Aemon tells Jon that each man will be tested in his life, asked to choose between they two demands upon his heart, and that Jon’s conflicted soul is not special.  Before Jon can get too far into his martyrdom, for he might be a bastard but it is his father in jail and his brother in peril, Maester Aemon relates his own family history: his nephew, grandnephew and great grand nephew all killed so that Robert might be king.  Dany isn’t the last dragon; her grandfather’s brother has been assigned to Castle Black, and remained there, despite the destruction of his house.  Refraining from giving Jon his opinion on what he should do, he simply tells Jon that he must make a choice and he must live with the consequences for the rest of his life.  Across the Narrow Sea, Khal Drogo is suffering the consequences of his wound, and in a state of delirium, falls from his horse.  Trying to ward of the death predictions of Angry-Blood-Rider, Dany commands that they make camp and the healing woman be brought to her.  At the Lannister camp it’s dinnertime.  Tyrion sits down to the information that the Northerners are only a day away and that he will be in the vanguard leading his tribesmen.  Tyrion argues that the wild men might not be the best choice to represent the army, as they are rather prone to infighting and mindless destruction, but Tywin replies that the behavior of soldiers is the responsibility of their commander.  Giving it another go, Tyrion asserts that his father can find a way to kill him that wouldn’t hurt the Lannister cause, bait to which Tywin will not rise.  So Tyrion rises, from the table, having lost his appetite.  In his tent he finds Bronn and a lovely young woman, a camp follower Bronn commandeered from a few tents down.  Tyrion makes the pretty woman, who gives the name Shae, an offer: to be his companion in exchange for protection and money.  Shae, apparently a smart one, agrees.  Enthusiastically.  After all, it could be Tyrion’s last night on earth.  It looks like it will be Drogo’s last night on earth.  When Jorah sees him he begs Dany to abandon her husband and ride with him towards the nearest city so they can grab a boat.  Dany assures Jorah that she won’t let Drogo die, and it’s irrelevant since she is carrying his heir.  Jorah corrects her cultural ignorance, informing her that Dothraki honor strength, and when Drogo dies there will be fighting, the winner will be Khal, and he will kill Dany’s baby.  Angry-Blood-Rider and the healing woman arrive, neither too happy about Drogo’s state.  Angry-Blood-Rider removes himself, with some helpful encouragement from Jorah, instead of killing Dany and the healing woman.  At Dany’s suggestion, Jorah leaves to put his armor on.  Dany commands the healing woman to save Drogo.  The healing woman offers Dany a spell, blood magic, but there will be a price for “only death pays for life.” Dany assumes it will be her life, but is relieved when the witch asks for Drogo’s horse.  The witch banishes everyone from the tent, slaughters the horse on top of Drogo, the blood of which splatters on Dany as well, and then tells Dany to leave, that no one may enter once she starts singing.  Outside, Angry-Blood-Rider pushes Dany to the ground and tries to get past Jorah to enter the tent.  Fully armed and a bit pissed, Jorah dispatches Angry-Blood-Rider without too much trouble.  Rushing to Dany’s side, he discovers that Dany has gone into labor, but none of the Dothraki women will help her.  Considering his only option the witch, whose been overheard to say she has helped deliver babies, Jorah gathers Dany into his arms and takes her into the tent.  (The tent when a witch is trying to prevent her almost dead husband from dying by using blood magic.)  In Tyrion’s tent, he and Shae are playing a game of fire-chicken, and he’s loosing.  Tyrion wants to play a game that he’s good at, so it’s Truth-or-Drink-with-Tyrion: he will make a statement about Bronn (and then Shae) and if it’s true, they must drink.  In round Bronn the details of his sordid life come to light: his mother, as well as his father, beat him; the first person he killed was a woman and he was less than 12; typical sellsword type stuff.  Shae insists that Tyrion is wrong that her father ran out on her family and that her mother was also a whore.  Turning the tables, Bronn announces that Tyrion used to be married, and Shae insists on the story.  At 16 Tyrion was riding with Jaime and they came upon a girl being chased by men intending to rape her.  Jaime pursued the men, Tyrion took the girl, Tysha, to an inn, fed her, and they ended up in bed together.  He fell in love with her, and the next day they married.  Two weeks later Tywin found out, had Jaime admit to Tyrion that Tysha was a whore and he’d arranged the whole scenario so that Tyrion would no longer be a virgin.  To punish Tyrion, Tywin gave Tysha to each of his guards and made Tyrion watch.  Shae is unmoved by Tyrion’s revelation, claiming he should have known she was a whore, as no woman whose almost been raped then willingly has sex a couple hours later, and Tyrion’s defense that he was young, stupid and in love sways her not at all, for in her opinion he is still young and stupid.  At dawn Bronn awakens Tryion with news that he’s missing the war: Robb’s army marched through the night and will be there within the hour.  Armed, Tyrion assembles his tribesmen, preparing them for battle by telling them that this will be the beginning of their dominion over the Vale.  His speech maybe makes them a bit too eager; in their haste the tribesmen flood over Tryion and one of them hits him in the face with a hammer, knocking him out cold.  Tyrion awakes to find the battle over, won by the Lannisters, but only against 2,000 of Robb’s 20,000 men, and Robb not among them.  Of on a hill Catelyn waits expectantly, finally letting out a sigh of relief when rider emerge from the woods, led by Robb.  The Northerners have been victorious, and captured Jaime Lannister.  Catelyn demands the return of her daughters, but Jaime isn’t obliging.  Theon strongly suggest they kill Jaime, but Robb sees more value in his life than his death.  Jaime offers Robb a chance to end the war: their single combat.  Robb isn’t fooled, and tells Jaime to his face that single combat between them would inevitably end in Jaime’s favor.  So, it’s to irons and a cell for “the pretty man.”  Watching his prisoner led away, Robb is overcome by the 2,000 men this victory cost him.  Undaunted, he reminds his men that their single victory has neither freed Ned, nor return Sansa and Arya, and certainly has not repelled those who’ve subjugated the North.  Unflinching, Robb reminds his men that “this war is far from over.”   Arya does not flinch when catching a pigeon on the streets of King’s Landing, but the baker she tries to bargain with isn’t interested in her prize.  Noticing all the people heading in the same direction, Arya asks a passing boy what’s going on.  He gleefully informs her that the Hand of the King is being taken to the Sept of Baelor.  Arya hurries to the square and climb the statue of Baelor the Blessed, just in time to see her father led out to the very crowded platform.  King, Queen, Council, Sansa, King’s Guard and all have gathered to hear Ned’s confession, but he only sees Arya, and as he passes Yoren in the crowd, whispers to him “Baelor,” all he can do to attempt to protect his younger daughter.  In front of the crowd, with a reassuring nod from Sansa, Ned “confesses” that though Robert was his friend, he attempted to kill Joffery and take the crown for himself.  He assents that Joffery is the rightful king and that he is sorry for his crime.  Pleased, Joffery tells the mob that while Cersei and Sansa have argued for Ned to be punished in exile on the Wall, that was their soft women-hearts talking, and that as long as he is king, treason shall be punished.  Joffery commands Ser Illyan to behead Lord Stark.  Just as she’s about to leap to her father’s defense, Yoren grabs Arya, yelling at her not to look.  Despite the pandemonium around him, the screams of Sansa, the avid protests of Cersei and Varys, the unsheathing of his own broadsword, the world goes quiet around Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell.  With a last look toward the statue of Baelor, a last fumbling hope that her absence there might mean that at least one of his daughters has been spared the sight of his death and be saved from further torment at the hands of the Lannisters, Ned puts down his head.  Ice falls, the crows fly. 

And I cried.

Like a baby.

Love versus duty.  This has been (one of) the central debate(s) our poor little characters have been having all along.  These forces have been pulling at each other, and in some cases weakening the fabric of society, since we entered Westeros, but upon this theme this episode was especially beautiful.  Each storyline explored a different aspect of this existential difficulty in such a way that the episode itself served to present a unified human person.  Taken individually the particular struggles of the individual players deepened our understanding of them and propelled along their plotlines, exactly what an episode of a show should do.  Taken collectively, we saw the full range of experience that every person has throughout his/her life.  For most of us, the choice between love and duty, between the people and passions that enrich our soul and the (often sacrificial) actions towards a good higher than ourselves, will seldom be a matter of broad societal import, of life and death.  Our lives, generally of less noticeable import, are made up of smaller quandaries, but we find in here a reflection of them all the same.  In those times that we are asked by a friend for an honest opinion, when we have to prioritize our time to fit in both work and play, when we must balance the needs of loved ones for time and attention with our desire for success in our purpose within the greater world, in the moments that we recognize that the price for what is right might be paid by one we care for, there will be occasions when we are overwhelmed by seeming isolation in our plight (like Jon), when we cannot let the world see how terribly we have failed (like Jaime), when we continually make the wrong choice (like Catelyn), when believe we understand the full impact of our choices (like Dany), when we do understand that no matter the outcome our struggle is ongoing (like Robb), when we comprehend just how circumscribed our own lives, and therefore our choices, are (like Tyrion), and when there is no choice that will bring about a good outcome (like Ned).  The course of our lives will be shaped by those choices, as the course of Westeros is shaped.

The TV Girl

Game of Thrones: And Then There Were Zombies

(1.08, “The Pointy End”)

Arresting Ned Stark didn’t go maybe as smoothly as Cersei envisioned, evidenced by the ringing sound of swords throughout the Red Keep.  As yet unaware of danger, Syrio and Arya are having morning practice, the lesson of the day is true seeing.  According to Syrio, looking is not seeing, and the mouth will lie, but the eyes won’t.  Sansa’s Septa doesn’t need the lesson, one look at the Lannister men coming towards them and she sends Sansa to hide in her room.  Syrio too suspects that the Lannister men, and the Knight of the King’s Guard, don’t mean Arya any kindness, and he tries to send her away.  Underestimating Syrio as an opponent, the thugs attack, and Arya stands shocked as Syrio beats down three armored knight with only a WOODEN PRACTICE SWORD!  As the King’s Guard decides to take matters into his own hands, Syrio commands Arya to run, and she finally listens.  Sansa too is running, but she runs into Sandor Clegane, sent by the Queen to retrieve Joffery’s fiancée.  Arya stumbles into the carnage in the yard, and finding her trunk spilled open, searches for Needle, which she finds just in time to defend herself from a stable boy who wants to take her to the Queen.  Arya kills the boy, and runs.  In the shockingly silent dark of the dungeons, Ned gets a visitor.  Varys brings water, news and rebukes for Ned.  Alleviating Ned’s most pressing fear, Varys tells him that Sansa has been captured, Arya has escaped, but neither are confirmed dead, unlike ALL of rest of his household.  Just to rub salt in the wound, Varys asks Ned what madness possessed him to inform Cersei he’s figured out who her baby-daddy was, and because Ned is a self-destructively honorable man, he replies “the madness of mercy that she might save her children.”  Varys’ response is half pity/half rebuke, “your mercy killed the king.”  Varys then proceeds to inform Ned that he doesn’t even have the bargaining chip that he thought he did: Catelyn no longer holds Tryion.  (But he was the wrong brother to use to cow Cersei anyway.)  Faced with little hope, Ned demands that Varys kill him and be done with it, but Varys chides him that it is not his day to die.  Confused, Ned asks Varys whom he serves, and Varys surprises him by responding, “the realm my lord, someone must.”  Far away on the Wall, the rangers have found the body to which the hand Ghost found used to belong; the Brothers gather around a pallet with the two dead rangers, the only sign of the party that went out with Benjen all those months ago.  The brilliant Sam notices that the bodies don’t smell, quite an oddity.  Jon suggests they burn the bodies, but Lord Commander wants Maester Aemon to have a look at the non-stinky dead first.  The Lord Commander is alerted to a raven from King’s Landing.  Jon, as his steward, follows him, and is instructed to pour a drink for Mormont and one for himself.  Mormont shares the letter with Jon, informing them of Ned’s arrest for treason.  Agitated, Jon insists that it can’t be true; his father would never commit treason, and worries that there is no news of his sisters.  Aware of Jon’s temper, the Lord Commander admonishes Jon not to do anything stupid.  If only Sansa had someone to give her the same advice, because the poor girl is getting bullied by the Queen and Council.  According to the always truthful Cersei, Pycelle, Varys and Littlefinger, Sansa isn’t fit to be Joffery’s queen, since she is the daughter of a traitor.  Sansa applies all of her logic to the problem, telling them that she loves Joffery and she will be a good queen just like Cersei.  Watching Sansa fold like a cheep tunic, Cersei gets around to her point, assuring Sansa that if she writes a letter to Robb and one to Catelyn telling them to come to King’s Landing and pledge fealty then it will prove that she will be a loyal and true wife.  Sansa’s letter doesn’t go over so well in Winterfell; Robb crumples it up, declares that he will go to King’s Landing, and that Maester Luwin should call the bannermen.  Theon looks like he’s going to choke with glee, the northerners are marching to war.  Despite his ire, Robb’s hand is shaking, he must be afraid, which Theon tells him is a good thing.  (Lots of advice given out in this episode.)  A host of crows erupts from Winterfell, the call to those loyal to the Starks.  In the Eyrie Catelyn isn’t just furious over the news in Sansa’s letter, she’s furious that Lysa kept the letter from her.  She was feeding Robin, she was busy.  Catelyn begs her sister to call the Knights of the Vale to aid Robb, Lysa flatly refuses: the Knights of the Vale are staying in the Vale.  Where they are very much needed, as Bronn and Tyrion find out when they’re attacked by one of the mountain tribes on their way out of the Vale.  As quick as you can say, “I like living and I’m WAY smarter than you” Tyrion offers the hill men weapons in exchange for their protection, and with those weapons he will give them the Vale.  He offers an alliance, for they have a common enemy, and Tyrion has decided it is time for new Lords of the Vale.  It might’ve be time for a new Master at Arms on the Wall.  Ser Alliser just can’t resist the opportunity to taunt Jon with Ned’s arrest, and predictably, Jon attacks him.  The Lord Commander puts a stop to things, and Pyp and Grenn manage to get a hold of Jon, who’s confined to his quarters.  Ghost doesn’t appreciate the bed rest, and refuses to stop prowling at the door, so Jon goes investigating.  Calling for the Lord Commander but receiving no answer, Jon finds in his chamber not Mormont, but the dead ranger brought in earlier.  And the dude is walking around.  And trying to kill.  Jon stabs him, and thinks he’s dead, Mormont comes out with a lamp to see what all the commotion is, but swords just aren’t doing the trick, because zombie-boy is undeterred.  Jon grabs the lamp from Mormont, burning his hand, and throws it at his former Brother, burning him dead-er and saving the Lord Commander.  (Yay Jon!)  Across the sea, the Dothraki are on the rampage, sacking a town of the sheep-people, in order to fund Dany’s campaign for Westeros.  She objects to the rape of the captive women, and not as Jorah suggests because she has a gentle heart.  Dany commands Jorah to stop the Dothraki from raping the women, as she is taking them under her protection.  Highly displeased, the warrior takes the matter up before Drogo, whose willing to give Dany what she wants.  Rape-boy then decides to make an even better decision, and spits on Drogo for being led around by his foreign wife.  Not one to take insult lightly, after allowing his opponent a courtesy stab, Drogo kills the every living bejesus out of him; he literally rips his tongue out from his throat.  Worried for her husband, Dany insists that he accept the help of a healing woman, one of the woman Dany has protected, and like a good husband, he agrees to make her feel better.  Isn’t that nice?  Healer may be needed back in Winterfell.  The bannermen are a bit more contentious than Robb had anticipated, Greatjon Umber in particular.  Not impressed with Robb’s battle plan, since apparently Umbers don’t follow Glovers in the race of who gets the honor of dying first, aka, who gets to lead the vanguard.  Threatening to take his men home with him, Greatjon brandishes his knife and Grey Wind jumps across the table and bites a couple of Greatjon’s fingers off.  Unfazed by his pet attacking a man he needs to help him fight a war, Robb sternly informs Umber that it’s rather offensive to bare your steel to your lord, and should Greatjon decide to go home, when he’s finished with Joffery, Robb will return and rout Greatjon for an oathbreaker.  Impressed that Robb isn’t as green as he thought he was, Greatjon decides to see the humor in the situation, and everyone laughs and goes back to eating.  Later, Robb goes to Bran’s room to say goodbye.  Bran asks to go, but Robb charges him that there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and that is his duty now.  (They grow up so fast.)  After Robb leaves, Rickon sneaks into Bran’s room, dodging Robb.  Bran encourages Rickon to say goodbye to Robb, but Rickon is as brilliantly stubborn as only small children can be, and refuses, on the ground that none of his family that he’s said goodbye to has come back.  Baby needs a hug and there’s no one left to give it to him.  (My heart, it breaks.)  In the morning, Bran prays in the Godswood for the safety of his family, and Osha, who observes the Old Ways too, teaches Bran to listen to the Gods’ response, the wind.  Full of dire prediction, Osha tells Bran that Robb is marching the wrong way; the real threat is to the north.  Then there is obligatory male full frontal nudity.  Up at the Wall, they’re having a bonfire of the zombies, and Sam, whose been doing some research in the library, informs his compatriots that their Brother’s rose because they were touched by the White Walkers, ancient creatures who sleep under the ice for thousands of years.  His lesson causes everyone to look at the Wall, and maybe pee their pants a bit.  Catelyn arrives at Robb’s camp, where the mens-folk are discussing Jaime’s harassment of the River Lords (Catelyn’s family).  Mommy dearest wants a word with her first born, and those words are as helpful as ever.  All Catelyn has to add is, “don’t loose or we are all going to die.”  (Does Robb consider trading one parent for another as hostage to Cersei?  Just a thought.)  On the other side of the battle lines, Tyrion and his escort have arrived at Lannister base camp.  His father, not really impressed.  Which is ridiculous, because Tyrion has brought him some fierce fighters to help squash the Starks, and thought Tywin is perfectly willing to immediately take full advantage of the new recruits to the Lannister cause, with promises of even more reward than Tyrion has already promised, he doesn’t bother to thank Tyrion.  In fact, Tywin gladly sends Tyrion into battle as the mountain mens’ collateral.  Tyrion better get ready, the Northmen are planning away.  Pouring over the map, Robb and the bannermen debate who to attack, Tywin or Jaime, in face of the serious problem that either way they need the permission of Lord Frey to cross the river at the Twins.  The discussion is cut short, because a Lannister scout has been caught.  After asking for what information he’s gleaned, which as it turns out isn’t entirely accurate; Robb decides to send the man back to his lord, much to the chagrin of the assembly in his tent.  The scout runs off with bad intel, the army prepares to head for Jaime.  Down in King’s Landing, King Joffery is handing out promotions: first to Janos Slynt the captain of the City Watch, and second to his grandfather Tywin, the new Hand of the King.  Demotions are apparently in order too; Cersei calls up Ser Barristan and removes him as a Knight of the King’s Guard, offering him a nice retirement package.  He decline, throws his sword in front of Joffery and leaves the hall.  Sansa steps forward to beg for mercy for her father.  Pleading with Joffery that a) Ned was lied to by Robert’s brothers and b) the only reason he said Joffery wasn’t king was that he was not in his right mind because his injury was being treat with milk of the poppy, she wins Joffery over, and he agrees to spare Ned if he will bend the knee.

The internet and I had a HUGE disagreement as to whether I would be allowed to watch this whole episode, in its entirety, uninterrupted.  It turned out to be a draw, but I must say, the altercation messed with my GoT mojo.  Stupid internet.

I didn’t mean that.  Internet, I love you.

Okay, back to the show!

This was the first episode in which I really noticed the condensation of time.  In everyone’s defense, there was a huge amount of story to get through.  In places, it was distracting from all the glorious story-ness.  For instance, as visually appealing as the ravens leaving Winterfell was, this is a universe without printers, those messages had to be handwritten, it’s unlikely that Robb could just snap his fingers and his orders are ready to go out.  Similarly, assembling the bannermen, marching south, preparing for a war, all that would take time, time that it didn’t feel like was passing for the rest of the characters/places.  What seemed to be a day or two on the Wall was what would have had to be months in the south.  I suppose, in the end, an occasional break in my suspension of disbelief is worth keeping the brisk pace that this show needs.

She’s an idiot, but in a way I love Sansa.  Let me be very clear, as the kind of person I would want to model my life after, I don’t like Sansa; she’s selfish, unkind, whinny, and stupid.  She doesn’t have the good sense God gave a grapefruit.  I pretty much want to punch her in the face.  But, her behavior in response to the other characters is amazing. Sansa is completely guileless; she says exactly what she means/wants without any idea that other people will want to use her motivations/desires to manipulate her.  It doesn’t even cross her mind that Cersei is trying to use her, that her future mother-in-law has plans that might not be in Sansa’s best interest.  Because she hides nothing from others, Sansa can’t see that Cersei’s I-understand-and-sympathize smile is really really creepy.  In a way, you can’t feel sorry for her that everyone plays her like a fiddle, because it isn’t that she’s innocent; she doesn’t have a giving heart and kindness towards mankind.  Furthermore, the irony, that she can never hear, in what she says provides some of the only levity on the show.  It’s a testament to what wonderful liars everyone is that Varys, Littlefinger and Cersei didn’t burst out laughing when Sansa said she wants to be queen just like Cersei, the woman whose brother father her children and then may or may not have arranged for her husband’s murder.  Between the murders, the betrayals, and the univocally bad decisions, it’s nice to have an occasional chuckle, even if it is at the expense of an appallingly obtuse tween.

On the not funny side, ZOMBIES!  Nothing can make all the royal jockeying and cloak-and-dagger plotting look like so much play yard bullying as the dead coming back to life and only being vulnerable to fire.  That is some bullshit, that people are getting thrown in jail and fingers bitten off over the issue of who did or did not diddle Cersei while a bunch of cold, understaffed, and in some cases morally suspect guys are fending off attacks by the undead.  But, it’s a safe bet that saving the Lord Commander’s life will get Jon off the hook for flying off the handle at Ser Alliser.  Too bad about his hand.

Too bad about Tyrion’s dad.  Your son manages to use nothing but his words to a) get himself released from the oh so insane Lysa Arryn who was determined to throw him off a mountain, b) convince some less than reasonable mountain men to not only not kill him but to protect him, and c) to gather even more mountain clans to follow him, but for all that you don’t even have a “good job” for him?  How is it possible that Tywin Lannister, who approaches the vanquish of his enemies with the cold calculation of a hunter skinning his prey has absolutely no respect for his son’s brilliant ability to read a situation and draw out the conclusion that he needs?  If you’re at the head of an army that is sort of starting a civil war, wouldn’t you want someone who is intelligent, prudent, and (mostly) impartial to be on your side?  At the least give the poor guy a glass of wine!  What a terrible example of missing what you could have over bitterness that you didn’t get what you want.  Life lesson everyone.

And for the love of all, can someone give Rickon Stark a hug!

The TV Girl

Top 5: (Current) Character Deaths I Would Like to Facilitate

And to conclude, for now, my rather morbid fascination this week: characters I would kill.

This is off course purely in the realm of speculation, I have no control over any of this, but as a discerning (or overly opinionated, however you choose to see that) TV viewer, I have felt from time to time that certain shows could do without some characters and their ensuing storylines.  Even on the best of shows, there can be a lemon: a character who detracts to an extreme degree from the general awesomeness, or a character that just happens to annoy the ever living crap out of me.

Castiel, Supernatural
Sorry fangirls, this isn't personal, but if there is any hope for Supernatural to recapture it's glory, Castiel needs to die, and quick.  Remember when Sam and Dean were remotely competent at their job?  When they would find a mystery, investigate, and try try again until they found a solution?  Now they are sent on a job, call Bobby first thing, and then ask Castiel to fix it.  The former was engaging TV, the later is dull and baffling (if I were evil I wouldn't be afraid of these two either).  As much as I find Castiel amusing (and he really is), he's hobbled both the familial relationship between, and the professional capabilities of, Sam and Dean.  Goodbye Castiel, hello better show.

Becky, Friday Night Lights

(Alright, so this is cheating, since this show is technically finished, but I haven't watched all of it yet, so...)  I unapologetically morally disagree with Becky's choice to abort her child; I'm pro-life and always will be.  And yes, I know that sounds ridiculous within a post about how there are characters I would like to see no more of, and no more possibility of, on my nightly TV line-up.  But, that isn't why I'm putting her on this list.  Becky commits the fundamental sin in my book: she is dumb as shit.  She's not just not very bright, there are plenty of TV characters that are kind of dim (but their usually funny, making them sometimes/somewhat redeemable/useful), Becky is unrepentantly stupid.  She actively pursues, and insists that she is in love with, a guy that had sex with her mother!  Really?  Really?  It's like she saw The Graduate and thought it had a happy ending.  

Ezra, Pretty Little Liars
It isn't just the fact that Ezra is the (legal) adult in the most annoying relationship on any show I watch at the moment, but honestly that would be enough.  They are a blight on an otherwise entertaining show.  Every time Ezra and Aria interact I want to turn off PLL and never watch again.  Their insipid and repetitive conversations, mostly revolving around their inability to face the icky reality of their situation, eat up time that could be used so well with other characters.  Add on to this that Ezra has apparently never heard the term "statutory rape," and his hipster vests, and I just get beyond livid that on a show with such violent tendencies Ezra hasn't yet met with an "unfortunate accident."  Make this happen A.

Britta, Community
Boring.  So boring.  I think of Britta much like Mark on Parks and Recreation: a supposed love-interest that didn't pan out and then no one knew what to do with him.  And no one can argue that P and R has benefited immensely for swapping the sad-sack Mark for the amazing Ben (played by the oh so adorable Adam Scott) and the male-Leslie-Knope, aka Chris.  I'm not actually proposing to swap Britta for anyone, just kill her off and let the rest of the funny, messed-up, way-too-meta, darling characters get up to their high-jinks. And what couldn't Abed do with a major character death?  Meta-tastic!

Ser Alliser Thorne, Game of Thrones
This is purely, spitefully, because he is mean to Jon.  Which is evidence that he is bad at his job, and were this Soviet Russia, maybe that would be all the justification I would need.  There is being tough on your pupils in order to prepare them for difficult or unpleasant tasks, and then there is torturing young people because you are bitter about the way your life turned out.  Ser Alliser falls into camp B.  Bad enough, but, singling out Jon as his favorite punching bag is unforgivable in my eyes.  Jon doesn't need another person telling him that he is worthless, predisposed towards malevolence because his daddy wasn't married to his mommy, and that he was undeserving of the company of his siblings and attention of his father; he had enough of that growing up.  (Catelyn, I hate!)  There's nothing instructive or corrective about Ser Alliser's taunts and accusations; it is the jealous lashing out of a wretched man.  I'd welcome a bad end for him.

The TV Girl

Game of Thrones: First Impressions Aren’t Often Wrong

(1.07 “You Win or You Die”)

In the sea of red, the Lannister camp, the mighty Tywin Lannister is skinning a stag.  Yes, that both is and is not a metaphor.  There’s no better time to have a heart-to-heart with your son than while removing the entrails and skin of a recently deceased animal.  Tywin’s not so impressed with his son Jaime, rebuking him for attacking Ned, but also for letting Ned live.  Despite believing Jaime has wasted his potential so far, Tywin insists on giving him 30,000 men to go retrieve Tyrion, who though the lowest of the Lannisters is still family, and if a Lannister can be abducted without retribution then their name will no longer be feared.  And it is the name that will live on after the current generations have passed, so Tywin’s done waiting for Jaime to decide to be the man he is supposed to be.  In King’s Landing Ned and Cersei have a singularly unpleasant conversation about paternity.  Ned reveals that he knows Cersei’s children are Jaime’s and that that fact is what Jon Arryn died for.  Unashamed, Cersei explains that, as twins, she and Jaime belong together, and that when she first married Robert she loved him, but he was still in love with Lyanna (Ned’s dead sister).  Ned encourages Cersei to take her children and get as far from King’s Landing as possible, because he’s going to tell Robert the truth.  Cersei practically laughs in his face, chiding him that he should have taken the throne the day the city fell during the rebellion, since after all “when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground.”  Littlefinger has a new employee, Ros the whore of the north, but she isn’t up to par.  Littlefinger gives her some advice about sexually satisfying her clients, she has to go slow enough to convince them to forget that they paid her, which makes for a nice analogy to how he must proceed in his pursuit of the girl and the glory.  Theon seems sadly affected by Ros’ relocation, because he tries to get friendly with Osha after they have a really confusing geography/etiquette discussion.  Maester Luwin interrupts, which is probably for the best, since Osha looks like she could break Theon in half, which he might have preferred to being reminded that a hostage can be treated very well.  After Theon beats a hasty retreat, Osha clues Luwin in to the fact that there are some monsters stirring in the woods north of the wall.  Atop the wall, Jon and Sam see a horse approaching from the north, but without a rider.  It turns out to be Benjen Stark’s horse, but without a trace of Benjen, an understandably upsetting event for Jon.  Ned’s upset too; due to the fact that Renly runs up to him to tell him that Robert’s been gored by a boar while hunting.  Hobbling to the sickroom, Ned finds Robert, surrounded by friends and family, telling Joffery that he should have been a better father, and then he kicks them all out so he can talk to Ned.  Robert knows he’s dying, and that he hasn’t left the kingdom in the best of shape, so he charges Ned as Protector of the Realm, to help Joffery be a better king than he was.  He has Ned take down his last testament, but Ned balks, and instead of writing Joffery he writes “true heir,” unable to tell Robert on his deathbed the monstrous lie his life is, but unwilling to perpetuate Joffery’s fake claim to the throne.  Finally, Robert informs Ned that he’s changed his mind about Dany, and to do what he can to stop the assassins sent after her.  Leaving Robert to be heavily medicated, Ned lets Varys know about Robert’s changed of heart, but Varys has some bad news of his own, for it’s his opinion that it’s too late to call back the birds on Dany’s death.  Not yet knowing the danger she’s in, across the sea Dany is having some trouble convincing Drogo that he should pursue the Iron Throne, because though his son will be the stallion that mounts the world, he believes the world ends at the sea.  Dany is frustrated.  Nothing like a walk to make you feel better.  Jorah and Dany go walking in a market, where he takes off to see if there are any letters for him.  The letter he’s been waiting for actually has arrived; his royal pardon!  Time for Jorah to go on home.  But when he walks back towards Dany he sees a wine merchant chatting her up, trying to give her a fine cast as a gift.  Suspicious, Jorah insets himself, demanding that the merchant try the wine, and Dany picks up on his wariness.  Knowing he’s made, the wine merchant/assassin makes a break for it, but Dany’s bodyguards catch him in no time flat.  Maybe Jorah is more committed to Dany than he thought.  Back on the Wall Jorah’s dad has some news of his own, assignments in fact.  Jon and his class are ready to take their vows, to be men of the Night’s Watch, in one of three departments: builders, stewards, or rangers.  Sam and Jon are joking around, both kind of happy, and agreeing to take their vow in front of a heart tree/the old gods.  That is, until Commander Mormont reads from his list, naming Jon a steward.  Shock.  Furious at being named a glorified maid for the rest of his life, he storms off.  Sam, being the good friend and voice of reason that he is, follows Jon, and doesn’t even mention that Jon told him moments before that there is honor in being a steward.  He explains to Jon, that despite the fact that he’s wanted to be a ranger forever, by being the Lord Commander’s steward, Jon will be groomed for future leadership.  And as just another example of why Sam is awesome, instead of leaving Jon to feel like shit for acting like a shit, he tells him that he always wanted to be a wizard when he was growing up.  It’s funny.  Not so funny is Renly approaching Ned suggesting that they take Cersei and her kids into custody and crown Renly himself instead of his older brother, and Robert’s heir, Stannis.  Ned has two problems with that, the first that he won’t disturb Robert’s last hours by apprehending his “family” and the second that Stannis is the rightful successor and Ned isn’t just going to ignore that because Stannis is unqualified.  Littlefinger goes to visit Ned, whose just sent a letter to Stannis.  Littlefinger encourages Ned to support Joffery’s claim, to act as the protector, thereby rule by proxy, and if Joffery proves unmanageable they can reveal his paternity.  Ned refuses, determined that they follow the letter of the law, which puts him in an awkward position.  Knowing that he doesn’t have enough men to stop her if Cersei decides she won’t go quietly, Ned haltingly tries to ask without asking if Littlefinger can bribe the Gold Cloaks to fight for them.  Littlefinger, sensing and taking advantage of his distress, agrees to support his plan, since after all, the Gold Cloaks protect the man that pays them.  Ready to forsake all payment, Jon, Sam and some witnesses head beyond the Wall to the heart tree.  Jon and Sam say their vow, rise men of the Night’s Watch, and there are hugs.  It’s wonderful.  Until…Ghost comes bounding up with a human hand in his mouth.  Ick.  Loosing a hand is the least of the wine merchant/assassin’s worries, seeing as he’s tied up in a tent and Jorah tells Dany he’s going to be dragged behind the horses in the morning, whether he can walk or not.  Drogo arrives, checks on Dany, and then proclaims for all that he will take the Iron Throne.  It’s on bitch.  King Joffery might want to watch out.  Yes, the little squint is on the throne, summoning Ned to bend the knee and prepare for his coronation.  Undaunted, Ned produces Robert’s will, which Cersei tears up, almost laughing in Ned’s face.  With a nod to the Gold Cloaks, Ned calls for her arrest.  With a second nod the Gold Cloaks slaughter Ned’s men.  With a knife to his throat, Littlefinger remind Ned that he told him not to trust him.

From a certain perspective, this wasn’t the most exciting episode: light on the sword fights and the wow-I-didn’t-see-that-coming information, heavy on the talking and the veiled threats.  I can see how this thought could cross someone’s mind, but instead of focusing on what this episode wasn’t, let’s look at what it was, namely a perfectly crafted succession of conversations: sifting through the fragments left behind by momentous acts, arranging the pieces to (perceived) best effect.

And the mighty Tywin is on the scene now.  Whatever your disagreement with his message, you have to admit, there is no better way to get across that you mean business than to scold your child while skinning a giant animal that represents the house of your enemy.  Tywin’s cold precision, as if the entrails he was discarding were an afterthought, brilliantly reflected his estimation of Jaime, a man he sees as having wasted his talents in ways that do not solidify the Lannister’s as the house that will always be respected.  It can only emphasis your words of disappointment in your golden son when you say them wiping blood from your hands.  Tywin stages his scene masterfully, both reiterating Jaime’s flaws, as well as acting out what he is trying to make Jaime understand; it is by methodical pursuit, not rash outburst, will the enemy fear him.  The joyous irony is of course that Tywin doesn’t address, either because he doesn’t know or he doesn’t want to know, Jaime’s gravely misguided behavior that will really bring shame on the Lannisters.  Tywin doesn’t see his children as individuals, as people, he sees them as Lannisters, and it sort of makes sense that if you view your family as an undifferentiated whole, you might not notice that Jaime and Cersei were more attached than brother and sister should be.  Tywin misses this big issue, but because he makes no distinction between a Lannister and the Lannisters, he also misses the small ones.  Tywin doesn’t hear in Jaime’s voice that he loves Tyrion, that Jaime isn’t concerned that Catelyn abducted a Lannister, he’s concerned about his brother’s welfare, and in missing that, Tywin misses that he and his son are to some extent talking across purposes.  Tywin can browbeat and manipulate his son into acting the way he wants him to, but unless he can convince him to care about the same things, he will never really have his son’s loyalty.      

And loyalty is hard to come by.  I pretty much ignore Dany and all that in my analysis, and there’s a pretty simple reason.  I don’t care.  I don’t find her a particularly compelling character, since she is, as yet, pretty much a blank slate that everyone draws his or her desires upon.  Furthermore, everyone is pretty much in agreement that a “claim” to the Iron Throne is determined on whether you can take it and keep it, not on any cosmic ordination of legitimacy, so Dany doesn’t provide any kind of just contrast to Robert’s dynasty; her family could not keep their crown, so she would be equally a usurper to Robert that Robert was to her father.  Therefore it’s hard to think of her as some underdog that we really want to root for.  What she is, a trait that could help her become more interesting, is pragmatic.  She doesn’t turn away from reality in front of her, no matter how unpleasant it is.  She is not always good at recognizing initially a situation for what it is, she needed Jorah to point out that there was something fishy about the wine merchant, but she ties him naked to her horse as the preferred punishment of her adopted people, taking the situation for what it is.  In this way, she is much like Tywin Lannister.  But with a marked difference: Dany engenders loyalty because she inspires love.   

Sorry, I must digress into my love for just a moment.  I love the Night’s Watch’s vow, the actual words.  I read it over and over again in the book, just relishing how finely balanced the simple sentence structure is, how it builds to this sense of heroic finality, how it is a straightforward ideology that completely stands apart from the every shifting ambiguity of thought all the other characters are either trying to figure out or trying to manipulate.  Watching Jon and Sam take their vow, and then Jon help Sam stand up, actually got me a little choked up.  Here are these young men who have no place in the world, who are reviled and mistrusted for no other reason than birth or disposition, and with a single paragraph they are give a code by which they can structure their lives and orient their hearts.  I love it. 

And I love Sam.  Yes, it’s a total must-have for the fantasy genera to have a fat sidekick named Sam, but Sam Tarly is sort of magical.  Maybe he could have been a wizard.  Sam has that rare combination of humility and low self-worth that allows him to see what is best in other people even if he cannot always see what is best in himself.  He doesn’t indulge Jon’s (correct) paranoia that Thorne has gotten his revenge by denying him a position as a ranger, because Sam knows Jon doesn’t need that.  (I’ll admit, when I was reading the book and Jon was named to the stewards I actually let go of my book to clap my hands over my mouth in surprise, and then I was super thankful that I was reading on my bed because it was my Nook, and it had fallen on the floor it might have broken, and then I would have been really unhappy.)  He know that his friend has spent his life being told what he won’t have, he needs to be told what he can have, what his commander is giving him a chance to earn.  And he doesn’t leave Jon to feel unhappy, he gets him to laugh, coupling comfort with correction.  Sam’s father was an idiot: Sam would have made a wonderful lord. 

Don’t we all kind of wish Ned had a friend like Sam in King’s Landing.  I suppose at one time that was Robert (or maybe more likely Robert was Jon and Ned was Sam, but this isn’t really important).  It most certainly isn’t Littlefinger.  It never occurs to Ned, a man who wants so little, that Littlefinger could want so much, could want to punish Ned for ending up married to the woman he loves (I still say, Catelyn, really?) as well as position himself for whatever his next move will be.  The saddest part is that in this case, Jaime’s assessment of Ned is true: “brave man, terrible judgment.”  Littlefinger made his views clear, told Ned outright what he wanted for the kingdom, Joffery to be king, and how that was going to be achieved, through money, and Ned willfully ignored all that.  Ned limps towards his own doom because he is participating in a game that he is not acknowledging, and it is just heartbreaking.

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