the shameful confessions of a redemptionista
There's been quite a bit of turbulence on my friends list lately - people are coming and going left and right. What troubles me is that I can ask why people friend me, but I can't ask why they unfriend me. *le sigh* Well, they say curiosity killed the cat. (But how did it? Was it an accident? A trap? Suicide - he killed himself because he couldn't stand the curiosity? What was the official cause of death? Did he suffer? Was it a young cat or an old cat? Old cats tend to be more cautious, but no less curious, in my experience...)
***
Further proof of my incurable curiosity: I sepnd a large portion of last night convincing anaid_rabbit to tell me a whole bunch of Lost spoilers. I have no sense whatsoever. But it was fun.
***
You know, it's funny. I scoff at the people who claim Draco Malfoy is just misunderstood. I roll my eyes at the ones who claim Lindsey is a poor woobie who never had a chance to be good. I wonder what kind of crack the people are on who say Agent Sands isn't responsible for his own actions.
In other words, redemptionista? Not me.
But every time I so much as think about Harold Lauder from The Stand, I go into instant saviour mode.
Not that I don't realize that he's a dickhead, or try to excuse his actions. But his whole story reads to me as such a waste, and it makes me more unhappy than any of the book's numerous deaths. And I think this is due to a couple of factors.
Factor #1: I can see where he's coming from. Of all the characters in The Stand, Harold is the only one who even remotely resembles myself. And I too could sometimes feel the hate-on for the people who didn't have two brain cells to rub together, yet saw themselves fit to judge me. At least I always had my family on my side. Harold's family thought he were a freak. He's never been anyone's first priority. That can do strange things to a person.
Factor #2: He spends so long balancing on the brink of evil. There are so many places he could turn back, so many "if only"s. If only he hadn't read Fran's diary. If only he hadn't been kept out of the committee. If only he hadn't slept with Nadine. If only someone had really talked to him.
I don't know that any of those things would have made it all right. But they could have. It's as if he's determined to do everything to fuck himself up, and everyone else is just as determined to let him.
And factor #3, perhaps the most important of all: So he decides to go evil. He finally makes his choice, blows up a whole lot of people, including Nick Andros. (My other favourite - thank you so much for that, King!) What does it get him? Within pages, he's been betrayed, he's dying, there's nothing left except a bunch of regrets and a bullet in his mouth.
To quote Granny Weatherwax: "You mean you didn't even have fun? If I'd been as bad as you, I'd have been a whole lot worse."
He was a smart, resourceful boy and he let it all go to waste without even getting anything in return. So yeah, I want to save him. And I want to kick his ass for being such an idiot.
Happy villains are so much easier to take.
***
Further proof of my incurable curiosity: I sepnd a large portion of last night convincing anaid_rabbit to tell me a whole bunch of Lost spoilers. I have no sense whatsoever. But it was fun.
***
You know, it's funny. I scoff at the people who claim Draco Malfoy is just misunderstood. I roll my eyes at the ones who claim Lindsey is a poor woobie who never had a chance to be good. I wonder what kind of crack the people are on who say Agent Sands isn't responsible for his own actions.
In other words, redemptionista? Not me.
But every time I so much as think about Harold Lauder from The Stand, I go into instant saviour mode.
Not that I don't realize that he's a dickhead, or try to excuse his actions. But his whole story reads to me as such a waste, and it makes me more unhappy than any of the book's numerous deaths. And I think this is due to a couple of factors.
Factor #1: I can see where he's coming from. Of all the characters in The Stand, Harold is the only one who even remotely resembles myself. And I too could sometimes feel the hate-on for the people who didn't have two brain cells to rub together, yet saw themselves fit to judge me. At least I always had my family on my side. Harold's family thought he were a freak. He's never been anyone's first priority. That can do strange things to a person.
Factor #2: He spends so long balancing on the brink of evil. There are so many places he could turn back, so many "if only"s. If only he hadn't read Fran's diary. If only he hadn't been kept out of the committee. If only he hadn't slept with Nadine. If only someone had really talked to him.
I don't know that any of those things would have made it all right. But they could have. It's as if he's determined to do everything to fuck himself up, and everyone else is just as determined to let him.
And factor #3, perhaps the most important of all: So he decides to go evil. He finally makes his choice, blows up a whole lot of people, including Nick Andros. (My other favourite - thank you so much for that, King!) What does it get him? Within pages, he's been betrayed, he's dying, there's nothing left except a bunch of regrets and a bullet in his mouth.
To quote Granny Weatherwax: "You mean you didn't even have fun? If I'd been as bad as you, I'd have been a whole lot worse."
He was a smart, resourceful boy and he let it all go to waste without even getting anything in return. So yeah, I want to save him. And I want to kick his ass for being such an idiot.
Happy villains are so much easier to take.