Every week, the internet loses its collective mind. It’s like our news cycle is constantly on steroids; it’s always something. Last week it was an allegedly misquoted rape quote segueing into who’s actually responsible for turning our country into a BPO powerhouse, segueing into allegedly egregious helicopter usage followed by a breakdown of how much said egregious helicopter user actually pays in taxes. The mud-slinging is made even more intense because the reaction is in real time. It’s a not so civil war out there. I don’t mind people who take a measured, informed, calm stand because I’m a firm advocate for looking at all sides of an equation. I dislike the ones who foam at the mouth with fervour and overused exclamation points. These are the people who make my news feed an amalgamation of passive/aggressive rhetoric, perceived awesome burns, obvious hashtags and all sorts of propaganda. It’s exhausting. And tiresome. It’s hard enough deciding which guy to vote for without the blasted peanut gallery going on for days. I’m going to be a lot happier when this election is done.
Speaking of the internet losing its mind, the new season of Game of Thrones premieres on Sunday, exclamation point! I can now ignore the very real bickering over who gets to be president of the Philippines in favour of the very imaginary bickering over who gets to rule Westeros. Deep breaths. Watch thirty second teaser trailer. Squeal like a crazy person. Repeat breathing exercise as needed. (Clearly, my priorities need further examination.)
This will of course mean trying to avoid any Game of Thrones related internet posts entirely for at least three months. Because spoilers are verboten and I prefer TV-bingeing over the usual week-by-week viewing party, this means a lot of averting the eyeballs and scrolling feverishly past. My way is to wait until the whole season is done before diving in. Go big or go home, I always say.
I also like to do a little something I call remedial Game of Thrones. This involves revisiting past seasons and watching all the episodes to make sure I come prepared. (I am sadly behind.) For the die-hard enthusiast, this means harkening all the way back to Season One and watching all episodes till the end of Season Five. This year I’m going to cheat and just re-watch the last season but compensate by re-reading the books because if it isn’t obvious by now, I’m a crazed fan.
So yes, the sixth season is upon us. On April 24, look upon George RR Martin’s work (with HBO’s help), ye mighty and despair. You know we’re bound to despair. If you think 2016 is going all Valar Morghulis by killing off musical geniuses (we will miss you, David Bowie and Prince), it’s got nothing on George RR Martin. Game of Thrones isn’t going to be GoT without someone unexpectedly getting killed off in some heartrendingly cruel way. Except for Joffrey, because come on, everyone hated Joffrey and we were all waiting for that twisted little maniac to kick the bucket. God bless George for giving us the closure we needed in that respect. (PS: Joffrey dying doesn’t count as a spoiler. It’s been a while, you guys.)
We book nerds used to be all smug about GoT because having read all the books, we felt nothing could shock us. I could sit back, watch everyone curl up into a fetal position after the Red Wedding and feel superior because I knew what was coming. But Season Six is here and the show has finally come to the end of what’s been written in the books and will veer off into directions heretofore unknown. Now we are all of us equal in the eyes of HBO. From here on out, all we will know for certain is that winter is coming; we won’t know what else will be.
Saving for Botox 