Tonight we finished watching the second season of Game of Thrones. The penultimate episode was almost comic in the number of decapitations, people getting masonry dropped on their head or their legs being chopped off with axes. Not to mention bright green wildfire (Wildfire was also the name of a Germanic pizza chain in Hong Kong – I don’t know if that’s still in business or not).
However, most of the people dying in the episode you don’t care about, because they’re just random blokes with helmets on. They saved all the proper deaths for the last episode, when Finch from The Office runs some poor sod through with a spear (I won’t say who just in case somebody is even further behind than me with this series – although spoiler alert : everyone you might even care about dies eventually).
All the dour Northerners, plus the schoolmarmish Brianne of Tarth, are jolly entertaining. The bald bloke off The Crystal Maze dies far too soon and yet Joffrey gets not a scratch on him; there’s no justice in this world, that’s for sure. But after watching 20 episodes (what’s that, almost 15 hours of grim, shitsprayed misery?) in less than two weeks, I think we need to pause for a moment and find something more cheerful in life. Also, I need more sleep.