Koosh-koosh-koosh. It’s not working anymore on This American Tolkein! We no longer want to watch to see who you might kill off. You’ll routinely execute everyone we could like, but not before making us like people we thought we hated. What’s Dothraki for “Fuuuuuck yoooooouuuu???!!”
They should rename the damn show The Dead Pool, but Clint Eastwood and Marvel surely would have some wise-ass crack to say about that—right after lawyering-up.
There was that MILF in the battle with the Night King a couple episodes back who basically summed-up all of season one in a Ned Stark nanosecond, chucking her children on a ship only to later be KIA and made into an ice zombie. The battle itself is a microcosm for the series: constantly looming hardship, cursed conditions, painful deaths and loathsome losses are inevitable, but also, in these times and on this planet, all adversity is AMAZINGLY INSURMOUNTABLE. Ta-da! Couldn’t we all just stare at the angry Atlantic from the coastline before a hurricane? Same realization with less of an investment, so long as we have time to safely trot home and catch another friggin’ GoT episode.
No one cares that the Night King is a former commander of the Night’s Watch and could zombify Jon Snow, allowing him unwitting vengeance on his band of brothers. “Snow White Walker” lacks the much-needed machismo, not to mention certain litigation from Disney.
Daenerys you say? Khaleesi please. True, aside of Ned and Rob Stark and the aforementioned Snow, she’s the best example of a ruler we’ve seen. She’s the only hope left at the moment, granted, but my how the mighty have fallen. The Unsullied have met their match with the masked Viet Cong of the middle east. The Mother of Dragons now has three out-of-control teenagers and the Dothraki done kidnapped her ass. And, sadly, as great as she is, she’s no Jon Snow. A perfect companion to him perhaps, if we’re allowed to forget Ygritte. Jon didn’t.
Now nary a year shall pass before we can have any resolve. This author intends not to watch the first few episodes in protest. The novel, Across Five Aprils, should be rewritten to reflect this degree of loss of time and investment. Grrrrr! Winter is here and we should be coming to a porn parody of this shit.
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