Next Year – Season Finale in a Foundry

You’ll have to excuse my lateness. It wasn’t slackness, it was actually injury. It was Father’s Day here in Australia on Sunday, and I cooked Mr. Minty potstickers. You can’t buy these delectable little parcels of deliciousness in Australia – not that I’ve found. And we both fell in love with them on a trip to Los Angeles. All was going well until I deep fried the tip of my ring finger while crisping up the first batch. Goddamn my finger hurts when I type. Wince for me every time I press the SWX keys….fuck that hurt. It’s times like this that I wish I was one of those chicken peck typists and not a touch typist. Book post is up here.

Russell the Paper Tiger

Well, that was the least amount of fanfare ever. No building tension – they ruined it by not having Eric give Russell shifty eyes across the room all season. Having Eric kill Russell seems like a lame cop-out honestly. Particularly since I don’t believe that Eric would have been hovering around looking for Sookie to see what had her worried. This just seems to be pandering to the Eric/Sookie shippers in the most phone-it-in way. *sotto voce* It seems to have worked. Those chumps are going on about an endless love of the ages. Popcorn for smart people – pffffft. Evidence says that not seeing through this flimsy ploy makes them not the smart people. *resume normal voice and makes you swear you won’t tell them*. If I recall correctly, he’s been sticking it to Nora with the soundtrack “Fuck Sookie”, so him crapping on now is just because he needs something. I must say, Tweedleshithead did look particularly attractive this episode – I think this should be the new viral Eric picture:

As I predicted, Russell was really a lot of talk – he didn’t do much other than kill extras. None of whom we’d seen or care about, which doesn’t leave one with a lasting impression that he’s a character to worry about. I’m sure they’ll find a way to bring him back because he was probably the only thing keeping the ratings up this year. But he didn’t really do much as far as on screen. I mean, fuck – Demon Anya killed as many fratboys as he did. And I actually cared that she did – amazing what a good script can do…and it’s a pity True Blood doesn’t have one.
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AB ‘n’ Me – Ruiners

For those of you who didn’t notice, I was late and slack on the whole book post, but here it is. I’m committed to the one book post a week thing. And I think at this point, the only thing keeping me to that promise is the reminder of True Blood every week. I’m hoping that my workload and schedule cycle down sometime soon so I can do more than weekly updates.

You know, I do believe the channel I watch True Blood on actually inadvertently provided a review with their ad for it. It said “Get ready for a big old bloody mess” – and they were right. Ah, even the people who sell it know, and they’re trying to warn us, the kind hearted souls.

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Foot Fetishist In Da House

I looked over at my husband during this episode – the lovely and adorable Mr. Minty – and he was picking a hair off his jacket. Yeah, he’s real invested in this show – it’s fucking riveting. We also had a chat about the fact that Anna Paquin is pregnant – mostly because I winced in that first scene when she fell over. I know she would have been protected, and not in any danger, but you just kinda can’t help it, you know? It doesn’t help that it’s fairly obvious just how pregnant she is.

I’d also like to note that there are now all these references to toes in the show – I heard toes twice tonight – once about Mike Spencer, and once about the ex-wife who named her toes or whatever. Geez – they’re so bored and inattentive they’re letting the foot fetishist put their two cents in.
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Needs MOAR Wang

This week’s highlight of the episode happened on my couch, not on my TV. When Mr. Minty has to look at naked men or wang, and particularly hairy arses, he gets distressed. A great majority of True Blood’s viewership is held to their screens by nudity. So Mr. Minty reeled back at the sight of SMoyer’s butt, ASkars butt, and many other butts. So this week’s opening wang had him going “Argh! Do they have to show that?” When I pointed out this was hypocritical, and that he doesn’t reel back when there’s naked women, he just looked at me like I was huffing something. So I then said “So what’s going to be your reaction to seeing boobs onscreen in future?” Mr. Minty finished the argument with “That there’s not enough of them.” I’m considering making him a desktop with a pair of boobs, and a wang photoshopped between them. So he’s compelled to look, and also horrified to look – see how he likes them apples. I shall report back if I do it.

Each week as the show goes on, I find myself bored with the storyline merry-go-round. Nothing really changes, and they’re not saying much. But at least they’re saying nothing lots. Most of the relationship chat – and there’s such a lot of it – is so empty and devoid of context. None of the characters even move forward and say more – they don’t continue their lives and show the legacy of the effects – they virtually wallow in the past, and with shit I’ve heard already.  But at least I can argue with my husband over pointless shit and plan plans to traumatise him.
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Eric’s Price of Life is A Couple Hundred Dead Babies

Just in case you missed it, there was also a post I posted (posted posting) yesterday which covers much about hair fluffing and power. I was late this week with my SVM, and I’ve spanked myself and told myself never again. I’m probably a liar, and I’m sure I’ll have to chastise myself again before the year is out. Bad me. Now that the ritual whipping is done, onto True Blood. What am I saying? That whipping is nowhere near as bad as watching this show. I’m clearly too easy on myself.
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Next time, I want SMoyer piggybacking Askars

His long legs hanging over Bill? Worth watching way more. So to the weekly ravings about how much True Blood sucks. I didn’t hear many spoilers this week of substance, beyond What the fuck? It’s hard to say what that sort of spoiler means, really. And unfortunately, it was a direct contrast this week – Breaking Bad Season Five premiered right before True Blood, in whose characters I am totally invested. So True Blood suffered for the comparison, because Breaking Bad is damn good television. I am in love with Gus Fring, who has all the qualities of the best SVM vampires – twisty, manipulative, clever and very measured. Not only that, but Breaking Bad actually deals with disabilities in a good way – while True Blood deals with them without a lick of understanding. If you want to watch a cool fanvid for Breaking Bad to see if you’ll like it, this one is pretty fucking awesome.

The blocking was better this week, but I’m curious now to see whether it’s just an Alan Ball issue. So I’ll have to stick around for the finale. They pulled the shots up tight in Fangtasia so that it didn’t look empty this time. Last week’s director was shit. This is a comparison from last week’s shot – this is a proper shot so that your rooms don’t look half empty and so you can’t see a whole swathe of floor.

Same amount of extras, a damn sight better shot. This is how blocking should be done – but like continuity of story, True Blood is probably going to be shaky on cinematography too.
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I Think AB Wants Us to Buy Budweiser

Well, this week was a good week to watch this stupid show. Because this was the episode that Alan Ball wrote. It gives an insight into what he thinks is important. So let’s see how illogical he can get, and his special wimmen hatin’ skills. One thing I’m noticing – particularly with this episode, is the lack of appropriate shot and blocking. For those of you who don’t know what blocking is, it’s where you get actors to stand – so that the shot looks full. Very important for theatre plays – so that you don’t stand in front of major characters. Except that the blocking has gotten really bad. Rooms look mostly empty because the shots aren’t tight enough:

That’s a fuck of a lot of floor I’m seeing – in a bar that’s supposed to be lucrative. I’m surprised the bar is still up and running – because this crowd is what? Fifteen people crowded around the action? Oooh – place is jumpin’. That’s not the only problem – it’s not even good filming any more. From a technical standpoint, the imaginings are lame. I mean, glamouring two people in the same room, and we’re not supposed to believe that they heard stuff; to the werewolf pack sitting around watching the packmaster necking with his favourite chickie in a barn because that’s their favourite night time activity; to the minute long branding of fucking Budweiser during Terry and Arlene’s scene:

They won’t be winning any awards for cinematography, that’s for damn sure. Good thing they gave up on getting awards for fucking writing, right?
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Even the Title Mentions Vomiting Now?

Well, I really screwed myself over with that break I took last week. I have another post for True Blood here, and another one for SVM almost ready. But I hate doing the update at the same time. I tend to write a lot, so that means that there’s like a 8,000 word essay to finish all at once. I want to break it up, and this is, as I’ve said before, easier – nothing to figure out. So I’m going to go with True Blood first, and then tighten up the one on the books and post that in a day or two. I definitely do not want my journal just to become rants about True Blood. Even though I could probably rant about it, nitpick everything.

I’ve watched the drama this week over the Alcide kiss scene with great interest. There’s been calls of rape and such, because Sookie was drunk and Alcide was – according to some interpretations – not as drunk, or not drunk at all. I’m not quite sure if you would be able to tell with Joe “Wooden” Manganiello whether his character was drunk or not. And I kinda think it’s waaaaay too late to start calling rape now. I mean, how many seasons now has vampire blood been the supernatural equivalent of roofies? I certainly don’t feel any kind of connection or see any genuine kind of desire between Eric and Sookie – he gave her blood when she hated him, and then suddenly, she liked him and started having sex dreams about him. This show is not the books. Those who see a great connection seem to me to be inferring book content onto the television show.

In the show, Eric previously fed Sookie to Russell Edgington, with nary an apology or an explanation. It certainly wasn’t for Sookie’s own good to get bitten – it furthered Eric’s plan. It did not protect her in any way. Mainly because Eric had Russell’s full attention, not Sookie. Nebulous future inferred threats aside, Eric was not protecting Sookie – he was using her. Book Eric may be a royal dick, but Show Eric is a trash-flavoured cockhead. And he was one who gave her blood, and then used it to form a connection with Dream Eric who isn’t fucking real. Dream Eric is all sensual touches, and loving words. Reality Eric is all “I don’t love” and “You belong to me” and “I could take her and own her if I wanted”. They’re not synonymous – as made clear by the Sam/Bill dream – Bill has no interest in Sam, and wouldn’t want a slashy dream with him – which shows that whatever Bill Sam dreamed of is one that Sam made up – one that appealed to his psyche. Not real Bill, who was off dreaming of the munitions he would buy if he was King.

So to my mind, Alcide is no more or less bad than Eric or Bill by using alcohol instead of vampire blood – and that’s the way True Blood rolls. Not only does Alan Ball not like women all that much, but the writers are ABSOLUTELY MONKEY BALLS at building relationships…or tension…..or strong female characters. They skip it by using an outside mechanism as to why the characters are screwing now. They hope like hell you’ll build the rest of it yourself.

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Born to Greatness…with a Long Line of Stupids

Now for those of you who do not have me on some kind of alert, and just browse your way here – this week’s book subject post went up moments ago. This is the I hate True Blood post, wherein you can rage, laugh, and do quite a bit of contrariness swearing. Not that swearing isn’t always welcome on this Livejournal. 😛 I was severely delayed this week due to outside factors – birthday cake and such.

I do believe this week, I came the closest to not watching this show any more. I think if the trend of tonight’s show continues, I may actually give this up as a bad job. It was like reading one of those awful fanfics – you know, where you’re stuck in Sookie, Eric or Pam’s heads, and they hate women, like, as a general thing? Well, they’re my least favourite fanfics anyway – the ones where I have to read all about how women suck, how Sookie is useless and sucks, but for some inexplicable reason Eric wants to be with her, and half, if not all of the women are called whores, sluts etc. That was the entire subtext of True Blood last week, and this week it got worse. Ugh. I anticipate that this theme will be picked up by the writers of fanfic with great gusto and glee – it’s right down their alley.

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The Season of the Slut

Well, True Blood continues the downward spiral. I know we didn’t see anything of Russell in all this time. Which is a shame, but completely understandable. I mean, if he’s only going to kill a small amount of people, then you’ve got to save him until the end. Last time, he killed what, five people tops? If you bring him out now he’ll look like the paper tiger he really is. Never have I seen much ado about nothing. I predict that they’ll have to have him screaming about his evil from the rooftops for a while, and then doing essentially very little. Fuck. Marnie caused more deaths than Russell Edgington. But at least his character has style.
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