Please don’t read if you’re not caught up with the show and are not interested in seeing spoilers. Continue reading “Welcome back to hell: AMC’s The Walking Dead returns for a 7th season”
SPOILERS through season 6 of The Walking Dead.
The purpose of this blog is not to shout in exasperation when a television show goes thoroughly off the rails, but I’m so frustrated with “The Walking Dead” right now that it’s either this, or beat a motherfucker with another motherfucker.
As I’ve said before, the show owes its enduring appeal in part to the fact that people love to complain about it. When it comes to horror that aims for mass appeal, you need to be able to distance yourself from it. There are exceptions, but a long-running television series based on a long-running comic book series would be exhausting if it weren’t occasionally also just annoying.
Still, there is, “Haha, let’s make a meme out of this dumb exchange between two characters,” and then there is, “This show is reaching greatness – and them abruptly plunging into absurdity.”
I already wrote down some thoughts on how the show’s sixth season rose to new heights before devolving into ridiculousness after the 15th episode aired. That episode was a neat summation of most bad things about TWD: dialogue that acts as filler, characters going batshit insane for the sake of advancing the plot, “emotional” moments that seem like cringe-worthy tryouts for “My So-Called Life,” etc.
I wasn’t ready to freak out until the season six finale aired. And then it aired. Continue reading “Zombie Survivor: A rant on The Walking Dead’s terrible season 6 finale”
“Not to shit on anyone’s riff here, but let me just see if I grasp this concept, ok? You’re suggesting that we take some fucking parking shuttles, and reinforce them with some aluminum siding, and then just head on over to the gun store and watch our good friend Andy play some cowboy movie jump-on-the-covered-wagon bullshit. Then, we’re gonna drive across a ruined city, through a welcome committee of a few hundred thousand dead cannibals, all so that we can sail off into the sunset on this fucking asshole’s boat?”
“I’m in love with a zombie, can’t keep his hands off me. I think he’s looking at me, but he’s looking right through me. You think you’re so cool, boy. Blood rushing through my veins now. Do you want me for body? Do you want me for my brain?”
Zombie – Natalia Kills
Fuel – Metallica
Run Out – Memory Tapes
Hard Times – Patrick Wolf
Starlings – Elbow
Moonshake – Can
Shh – Frou Frou
This is Hardcore – Pulp
Let Your Soul Guide Your Heart – Rodney Hunter featuring Diana Lueger
Let’s Escape Together – Beat Crusaders
Yes. I KNOW there are crucial differences between the Infected and Zombies. If you have prepared an irritated lecture for me, save it for another day.
Anne Applebaum annoyed me with her clueless stereotyping of Russian women, but she downright freaked me out the other day when she went to bat for Roman Polanski. Her subsequent defense of her comments is even worse – Applebaum has the nerve to call the victim’s testimony “salacious.” I don’t even know what to say to that. No joke I could crack right now could possibly be grim enough. Paul Campos is right, for Applebaum, it quite obviously comes down to “slut was asking for it.” Applebaum lives in a universe where some women – Russians, pretty little American models – can be consumed and spat out with impunity. A commenter on the Campos post probably put it best:
… Applebaum sees Polanski as one of the elite, with whom she self-identifies… Law and legal consequences are for the unwashed masses, not for the superior beings who hold sway in Washington’s celebrity circles. She certainly sees the girl as, at best, a DFH, who should have been glad to be drugged, raped, and sodomized by such a great man.
I recently read “Dead Man’s Holiday” by Nick Seeley, and I am in love with the story. You should be too.
Speaking of Nick, he’s editor-at-large over at JO, and JO recently published my piece, “The Fake Muhajaba,” which is now online. It was difficult for me to write this. The sad thing is, I left Jordan for good this year. I made the decision shortly after the piece was published. There isn’t a lot I can say about it in this space, though a part of me misses Amman, and always will. It’s just that I could never have a life there, and that was something I had to face eventually.
In other news, Penelope Trunk is all kinds of awesome. Miscarriage is a part of life. So is abortion. It’s perfectly normal to feel relief when a clearly unwanted pregnancy ends.
I didn’t think I’d like “Obvious Child,” but I did. Bonding on the couch in an abortion clinic, on Valentine’s Day – what could be cuter? OK, maybe it gets a little too cutesy at various points, but at least there’s no PBR.
Zombie Research has a cool note up on zombies & rigor mortis.
Ren lost her kitten and is facing a huge vet bill. There’s a donation button on her old blog. Click on it if you can spare something. It sucks to lose animals, especially when they go while still very young.
Ex-sex – this was very sad, and very well-written.
On a personal note, I recently got a compliment on this blog from someone whose writing I admire. It felt odd and miraculous that it happened, because I have been thinking of nuking this enterprise. I’ve been questioning everything that I’ve been doing on here, obsessing about how pointless and stupid and embarrassing it is. I’m not of the “never apologize, never explain” school of thought, and it’s never been clearer than right now.
Things have odd lately in general. I’ve become the girl who sits at the far end of the table, stares down into her wine glass, and bums everyone out. I know it’s going to pass, but goddamit, when? My ever-helpful aunt suggested it will take about 6 years. Hah. And then she wonders why I never come over for pie anymore. Grandma’s been telling me to go to singles’ nights with all of these forty-something middle-manager types, and saying that I look “just like a girl” (I’m 25, grandma, in civilized countries, that’s still young), and I finally told her that I’ll shoot myself in the face if she doesn’t stop, which was a cruel thing to say, except that it worked.
The upside to all of this is that I’ve lost so much weight that my previously nice, tight jeans can now be pulled off me without undoing a single button. Which could potentially be hot. Or dangerous.
Still, I’m not nuking this blog. Or my face. “Not yet. Not just yet.”
As passed on by Gabriel.
You are in a mall when zombies attack. You have:
1. One weapon
2. One song blasting on the speakers
3. One famous person to fight along side you.
1. I’m thinking an AK47 will do nicely. I’m pretty sure it was mentioned in the Zombie Survival Guide as well.
2. This is a tough one. Lots of classics to choose from. I think that for the purposes described herein, though, Andrew W. K.’s “Party Hard” just might come out on top. I also suppose that the remix of Presley’s “A Little Less Conversation” has some much-needed humorous undertones attached: “a little less bark, a little more bite…” But now, I think I’ll stick with Andrew.
3. Uh, the Terminator? Oh, you said “person…” Who is a person anyway? OK, fine, if I can’t have Arnie and am not allowed to ask existential questions, I’ll go with Legolas. OK, so he’s technically an Elf. But Elves have legal personhood, I am pretty sure of that. I suppose if Legolas is not available, I’d go with Samson. Yes, from the Bible. He’s a total badass, plus, he’s into chicks in a big way, which means he’d really watch my back.