Token Title Containing the Word "Dead"...

Okay, so I have important things to be doing. I have a child to raise, and I would quite like her to realise that there are eyes, and a nose, and other features on my face. It's not just a rectangular black ThinkPad lid on top of my shoulders. I have a life to lead, friends to see, a grandmother to organise, a crazy mother to keep at bay. I have a million billion things to organise, a hyperbole conference to attend, and I'm supposed to be working out how I can get my life back, also known as going back to work.


And yet, all I can really think about is the latest installment in the Southern Vampire series, the imaginatively titled Dead Reckoning. Well, not the actual book of course, it's mostly badly written tripe made interesting by the television adaptation. Not so bad that I might stop reading it, but there you are. That's me. Shitmagnet.


So no, not the book, just the far, far more important issue of whether Sookie is going to end up with Eric or not. I am royally annoyed to discover that I actually care about this. I spent a little time wondering why on Earth I should be allowing such trivial matters to invade my brain space, but then I looked at this picture and I was no longer lost for a reason.

I am hoping that Charlaine Harris is going on a bit of a walkabout, and we'll be back to business as usual in the next book or two (though business as usual seems to involve rather a lot of beating around the bush and no romantic resolution or happiness). But there are little hints there, hints of a Beel and Sookeh reunion. Now, maybe I've been swayed by the rather on-point blog post on the Sookieverse about the borderline abusive sex scenes between Sookie and Bill, but the thought of that story line being revisited turns my stomach.


But then, why have Bill, when you can have Eric. Really?


I feel better now. Less frivolous. Thanks for letting me get that out of my system. World peace next.

True Blood Mondays are Over

It took me far too long to realise that it was Monday this morning. And Monday usually means True Blood from the night before, though not today. And then I realised that the finale had happened a week ago and I had written nothing on the subject, which is explained by my ambivalence about the whole thing.

It wasn't bad, but it certainly wasn't good. For those of us hoping to end the season with a naked Eric on the roadside anyway. If you were stupid enough (like me) to keep on hoping until the last 3 minutes that this is how they were going to end things, then more fool you! I suspected I would be disappointed, but the mention of Jesus and the witches got my hopes up. This had better happen next year or I shall be having words with Mr Ball. Maybe. Probably not - I'm not that organised.

Things I would like to see less of next season: Bill in general, Sam and his amazing retconning storyline, Tara crying, anything involving a Mickens, Arlene and Terry (though Terry on his own is fine), gore, the fae realm - which resembles the backdrop from a Sylvanian Families advert and Jason continuing to be wasted on crap like in-bred panthers. Russell Edgington and his beloved Talbot were truly marvellous but not even they can counteract all the fail this year.

I do like True Blood. It's cheesy and tacky in the best way. I love what Alan Ball has done with the books, using them as reference rather than fact, expanding some great minor characters (LaFayette in particular) and getting rid of others. Alcide was well done, surprisingly, and I love Jessica. But with these extra characters, with taking the focus away from Sookie, things get claggy quite easily.

I'd like to see the show spread a little less thin. And more naked Eric, of course. Always.

Is It Just Me?

Or has the finale of True Blood come around really quickly? How have 11 episodes happened? Or more accurately, how have 11 episode where nothing of any real note has happened.....happened?

Too many story lines, not enough time. How is that possible for a show an hour long? Why introduce Alcide if you aren't going to bother spending any time with him and his naked chest? I shudder when I think about the precious minutes wasted on the Mickens' debacle, particularly when you consider how little we have seen of Pam this year. Crystal Norris, how little I care about you and the inbred panthers you call family. Hotshot? I'd rather be in Shreveport with Mr Northman. 

There have been high points. James Frain, for a start. He has been deliciously doolally, or he was, before being dead. I think it is acceptable to assume that Russell Edgington won't be returning next year, if all goes to plan this Sunday. Add that to the loss of (the always excellent) Zeljko Ivanek as The Magister and I'm wondering what's left. This show has so many good male characters. We'll save my overlong rant about the pathetic, weak, annoying, badly drawn and acted female part of the show for another day. When there's alcohol. At least Tara is less pathetic this year.

Try harder next year, Alan Ball.