Okay, weird first post? Are there any that aren’t?
We got to meet Red John. Jane did what he said he was going to do; a TV show followed through. It was so satisfying, in all the ways LOST wasn’t. And then you’re left with that tingling awful feeling of being really happy that somebody got dead. Two things: I didn’t watch the show religiously this season, nor have I in the past; watching TV religiously isn’t possible with two small kids, working, writing, etc. But I have spent a lot of time the past couple of years fantasizing about what life would be like if I approached life more like Patrick Jane. That is, with little to lose. Just tell a loudmouth boob to his face that he is a loudmouth boob. Why not? He’s one of the greatest characters prime time TV has created in my memory. As far as trying to be more like him, where is the harm? Secondly, as far as seasonal TV tension goes, finding the killer of one’s wife and kid, the one you goaded into murder yourself on national television by posing as a “mentalist,” has got to be one of the all time winners. Better than will they get off the island alive, or what will happen to Jack in the next twenty-four hours. And thank god the network let the writers close this plot, so we wouldn’t have to watch them get close, only to lose him over and over again, infinitely. The groundhog day effect. And then there’s the moral question: should some people die? It’s not about the death penalty (except it is). The episode, the show itself, this guy’s quest for revenge, brings up this endless moral question: are there some people who do enough bad that they do not deserve to live? Past students have always argued, why do you get to say? That’s God’s job. Is it? Aren’t we as a species responsible for setting up the boundaries and saying: this life is a gift, if you abuse it too much, you no longer get to play? The way I phrased that made it sound like I have a stance. I don’t. I’m not comfortable going to bed happy, even exuberant: Jane shot him! Jane shot him! Violence between human beings is always troubling, even in fiction. Hell, the assassination of Bin Laden is still troubling me, on some levels. It’s a moral quandary, one you don’t find that often on prime time TV.
We got to meet Red John. Jane did what he said he was going to do; a TV show followed through. It was so satisfying, in all the ways LOST wasn’t. And then you’re left with that tingling awful feeling of being really happy that somebody got dead. Two things: I didn’t watch the show religiously this season, nor have I in the past; watching TV religiously isn’t possible with two small kids, working, writing, etc. But I have spent a lot of time the past couple of years fantasizing about what life would be like if I approached life more like Patrick Jane. That is, with little to lose. Just tell a loudmouth boob to his face that he is a loudmouth boob. Why not? He’s one of the greatest characters prime time TV has created in my memory. As far as trying to be more like him, where is the harm? Secondly, as far as seasonal TV tension goes, finding the killer of one’s wife and kid, the one you goaded into murder yourself on national television by posing as a “mentalist,” has got to be one of the all time winners. Better than will they get off the island alive, or what will happen to Jack in the next twenty-four hours. And thank god the network let the writers close this plot, so we wouldn’t have to watch them get close, only to lose him over and over again, infinitely. The groundhog day effect. And then there’s the moral question: should some people die? It’s not about the death penalty (except it is). The episode, the show itself, this guy’s quest for revenge, brings up this endless moral question: are there some people who do enough bad that they do not deserve to live? Past students have always argued, why do you get to say? That’s God’s job. Is it? Aren’t we as a species responsible for setting up the boundaries and saying: this life is a gift, if you abuse it too much, you no longer get to play? The way I phrased that made it sound like I have a stance. I don’t. I’m not comfortable going to bed happy, even exuberant: Jane shot him! Jane shot him! Violence between human beings is always troubling, even in fiction. Hell, the assassination of Bin Laden is still troubling me, on some levels. It’s a moral quandary, one you don’t find that often on prime time TV.