Remember when you were young? You shone like the sun. Or not. Actually I’m not sure I ever did. Either way, I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Being young, that is.
Probably too much. I mean, what gives with my back? And I just realized my softball glove is 26 years old. I hate every piece of clothing I own, yet the fucking closet is jam-packed with bright ideas, what-ifs, and wear-somedays. I am this close (THIS CLOSE!) to throwing it all out. I would if I wasn’t so lazy. I really would….. but
You know me– Lazy Bitch
Today I won’t complain about trolls, dusty wood-slat blinds, the disgusting texture of cottage cheese (just to prove I’m not that old yet), or how much I hate reality television (um, maybe I will on second thought). Hell, I don’t watch reality TV (let’s just forget about the John and Kate Plus 8 years when I needed to find solace in the horrors of new motherhood; JK+8 was my drug and I’m not sorry for taking it). Anyway, what the fuck is it with the Bachelor and the Bachelorette? To be completely honest, I’ve never actually watched either of these debacles because is it really that hard for pretty, spoiled people to find a date?
You want real TV? I present Game of Thrones.
I know, I know, it’s completely obscure and most of you have probably never heard of it, but just stick with me here.
Yes, I’m one of those assholes who has READ (yes I said READ, as in books made from paper) the entire series through three times (I’m holding back on a fourth; don’t think I wouldn’t start over again right this minute). And yes I’m one of those assholes who read the entire series BEFORE the blasted show premiered. As such, I’ve had a very interesting mix of emotion on the actual subject of TV vs. BOOKS.
Hot damn. It’s my favorite series and it’s coming to HBO (GOD OF TELEVISION).
The first few episodes are weak. How the hell will anyone ever, ever understand what’s really going on? Tyrion is supposed to be horrendously ugly. This bothers me almost as much as seeing (and hearing) Peter Dinklage on screen makes me want to become a King’s Landing whore (Littlefinger’s brothel only). I guess it’s a draw.
Uh oh. I’ve read the books again after the first two seasons. THE ACTORS HAVE NOW REPLACED THE CHARACTERS IN MY MIND! I feel torn, almost cheated, and now I have no idea what they ever looked like in real life (er, in my mind). A few exceptions being Jorah Mormont (he’s still ugly, bald and hairy and does not in any way look like a youngish Charlton Heston), Bran (he’s a 7-year-old for fuck’s sake), and Jon Snow (fortunately; this fucking pouty fluff-hair bullshit has no business at the Wall; also, he’s a 14-year old for fuck’s sake). Worst casting in the entire show. But whatever, I suppose there has to be at least one.
THE ACTORS HAVE NOW REPLACED THE CHARACTERS IN MY MIND!
Well ok now, this is getting pretty fucking awesome. Supplementary material is good (Littlefinger, I always knew what your motives were but your blatant disregard for secrecy smells like your own ruin!). It almost feels like we are getting MORE out of this than just a digital rendering of the books. Fourth: Ok, so some things are changing. These things are mostly good. Brienne kicks the Hound’s ass; Sansa’s a badass (and back in Winterfell to boot); Jamie and Bronn are in Dorne together; I could go on. Or I could stop since you’re all bored as fuck now. But hey, it’s what’s happening. Plus, I’m better looking than Roger Ebert.
I’m beginning to think this television thing is taking on a new life and I don’t know if I want to find out the end. Because no matter the route it takes, it’s going to be the same in the end. New gods, old gods. Who will win? I don’t want to know until it’s time. George’s time. Not the GOD OF TELEVISION’S time.
George Martin is a genius. A god.
A god? Yes. You make a world, you make it come to life. You’re a god. George is sensible and brilliant. I’ve followed his blog for several years. How someone can write, edit, travel, blog regularly, etc., is beyond me. But people do it. Those people are not lazy bitches. Certainly not George. This week I recommend Game of Thrones (the books). Surprised?
I am a firm believer that the little screen is, and should be treated as, a treat, a getaway, a reward. Kinda like soda. No, not beer; I said soda. Yeah I know I let my kid watch too much of it. But I don’t let her drink too much soda. The difference is in the programming. All soda is soda. But all television is not all television. If someone can come up with a reason why Rich Kids of Beverly Hills is more worthwhile than reruns of Seinfeld or All in the Family (yes I’m dating myself, but there’s real and not-so-real moral humor inherent to both), I’ll buy you a beer or three.
Hell, I’d rather my daughter watch Deadwood (I’m still pissed about that one, you stupid fucking GOD OF TELEVISION) than any single reality show on the shit ass TLC network. What stimulates brain function and creativity? How much further down the dumfuck hole can we go?
So this whole post ends with the conclusion that there will come a time (in the next year or two) when I will have to step back from the television, and, correspondingly, the entire internet, for a period of time I estimate to be roughly 4 months. That makes me sad, because as we all know, winter is coming, and I’m downright resolved to completely miss it. And the god becomes powerless against the GOD OF TELEVISION. I’d use an acronym here (I love acronyms), but wouldn’t that be oxymoronic to the GOT fans among us?