Watched the season finale of Game of Thrones yesterday. A most satisfying series, particularly when taken with Ms Girlclumsy's world-class recaps. I'm pestering her to send me all of her files so that I might publish them as an e-book. Because I am a publisher now. I live off the hard work of others.
It was a little aggravating having her recaps running here at the Burger, seeing the volumes of traffic flowing into them every Tuesday, watching the comment count get higher and higher, all while being unable to take part. That's the price I paid for sticking to a principal. I wasn't willing to pay a Foxtel subscription, or hit the bit torrents, so I had to wait.
I missed out on the weekly water cooler conversation, but in return I gained something which was just as valuable, at least for me. I could enjoy the story at my own pace. So I took in this latest series of Thrones like a novel, watching it over the course of the week, an episode or two every night. What I gave up in community I took back in the singular pleasure of being able to immerse myself in the story world of my own terms. There is something to be said for that.
By way of contrast, I'm now stuck like a schmuck waiting for Stan to drop the latest episode of The Last Ship every Monday night. Having watched the first two series on my own terms, usually in two or three episode mini-binges, it was a grinding gear change having to wait for that one little sip every week. I still love the show, but I don't enjoy being drip fed the eps.
Can we ever be happy? I love the Netflix model of dropping an entire series all at once. Even though I never binge a show from start to finish in just one or two sittings, I do like to consume them like novels. Having done that, however, there is always the sadness that comes with knowing you have reached the last page, or in this case the last scene.
We were put on this earth to suffer, my friends.