In which Laura is pleasantly surprised by a television show and reflects on the personality of rats.
I was going to post this yesterday, or maybe Saturday, but I was...busy. See, I have this problem, where I get really into a TV show and can't stop watching. I didn't think that it would happen this weekend--I seriously thought I would spend those two days cleaning house and catching up on some projects and maybe even spend some time with my family, but no. Supernatural ate my brain. I blame Jensen Ackles' eyes.
I've been watching Season 1 for a while now. In evenings I would watch an episode or two, interspersed with a bunch of other things I was doing at the same time. I liked it okay, but not as much as I thought I would from the major squee I see around the internet. There were parts of the show that I liked, but a lot of it was pure ridiculousness. Some episodes were good, some really mediocre, none were truly fantastic. It confused me.
I liked the brothers and their interactions (and of course, their actors are freakin' hot and adorable together), but there was a constant temptation for the writers to make Sam annoyingly emo, and sometimes they gave in, and Dean's characterization also seemed a little inconsistent. The show had a good premise, but so many of the individual plots were just, well, stupid. The dialogue was pedestrian and some of the special effects didn't work, and there was the complete lack of geographical making-sense-ness (Why mention specific places and times that are clearly WRONG? Why not just leave it vague, instead of highlighting your own inability to use Google? WB writers are clearly wack.)
Not to mention, of course, that everything looks like Canada. But I'm willing to give them a (limited) pass on that. Still, when they make a big deal about the fact that they're now in, say, Georgia, or Oklahoma, or Kansas, or other places I've been (including a brief scene set in my own home city, Fort Wayne), and the environment looks nothing like the actual US state, it's quite distracting. But you know, okay, it's Hollywood. Whatever. It was just another detail on the pile that made the show a little less enjoyable for me.
And the usual Hollywood problem, of course, of EVERY SINGLE WOMAN EVER being incredibly hot. No matter how old she was supposed to be, or what her role in the story was, or whatever, even she was onscreen for two seconds, she had to be stunningly beautiful: tall, skinny, perfect features, the works. Yet another alternate TV universe where everyone is gorgeous. (Except the men. Men are allowed to look like whatever, didn't you know? Excluding, of course, Our Boys, who are very, very good-looking.) And white. I think there were maybe three people in the entire first season that weren't white, except for the one Very Special Episode that was supposed to be about racism, which they also ham-fistedly bungled. Not a real great reflection of America, there.
So yeah, I had accepted that this show was just pure pulp. If you sit down to watch it with the right expectations, it's enjoyable enough. Just a little fluff to pass the time. I liked it enough that I looked up a few fan-made music videos on YouTube, because I would be listening to the classic rock station here in town and hear a song that would make me think, "Sweet cousins, that would be just PERFECT for a Supernatural video," and then yep, sure enough, someone else had made one. That was fun.
So, Friday night. I drive home from work, and hear Carry on My Wayward Son, and I start daydreaming about how that just sounds so much like Dean, how he just fights and fight and fights, and never really gets to enjoy the fruits of his labors, and how it would be nice if his Dad, you know, gave him any encouragement at all instead of constantly tearing him down. (I had just watched the episode with the vampires and the gun and everything, where Stupid John was all, "you need to take better care of that car," and I wanted to reach into the TV and slap him silly, because seriously, DUDE. That is your son and he does everything for you and supports you unconditionally and he babies that car like nobody's business, so show some respect, please. And Dean looked so honestly hurt by that throwaway statement. I just... Really.)
And then. AND THEN. I started the next episode. And I got goosebumps. "Carry on my wayward so-on," wailed on the soundtrack. "There'll be peace when you. are. do-one." And then followed one of the coolest previouslys I had ever seen, backed up by that awesome, perfect song, and Dean's face all... EEEEE! Finally, a fantastic episode.
Pleasant surprise. Very pleasant surprise. Of course, I thought, maybe it's a fluke. But no. Those final two episodes were pretty great. Especially that scene in the last one where the demon in John's body is going after Dean and Dean is begging his father to fight back and save him and.... oh, I'm a hopeless Dean fan now. At first I liked the brothers pretty much equally, with Dean's devotion to Family and Duty and Sam's longing for True Love and always wanting to have a moral high ground and yearning for normality. But after that? Dean all the way, honey. I am a sucker for the hurt ones. He does a pretty good job of hiding it most of the time, but GAH. Poor baby, let me comfort you...
And then, yeah, I started watching season 2 and had a really hard time stopping. It's still pulp, no doubt about it. Most of my complaints from the first season still apply, though maybe to a lesser extent. (For instance, not all of the women appear to have walked off a glossy magazine anymore, and there are a few more roles for ethnic minorities.) And even so, it doesn't bother me as much. The show has evolved beyond the ridiculous Monster of the Week plots to have more of a compelling, overall arc. And yeah, I've fallen for the brothers. It's still pulp (juicy, delicious pulp), but goodness, I do love it. The good episodes heavily outweigh the mediocre ones now, in my estimation, and the fantastic ones come more and more frequently.
Also: my ratties. I love watching them, how their personalities are so different. Both are quite comfortable with me now, but still have their individual ways of dealing with things, and I think it's very cool.
I come home, sit on the couch, and open the cage beside it so the ratties can come out--
Wallace: immediately races out, scampers all over the couch, circles around several times, runs up my shoulder and down my back, climbs up on the back cushion to look around.
Sebastian: cautiously pokes his head out. Looks all around. Slowly exits the cage. Walks across my leg to the gap between the seat cushions and the back of the couch. Hunkers down in his hidey hole.
I offer them treats, like yogurt drops or a little piece of my own supper--
Wallace: leaps forward, seizes the treat in his teeth, runs away somewhere safe to gobble it, and soon emerges in search of more.
Sebastian: carefully sidles toward the treat. Gently takes it between his teeth. Walks away to his hidey hole. Eats it slowly. Only takes more if I stick it in front of his face, and sometimes not even then.
I have something on my face that they want to lick--
Wallace: scurries up to my neck, grabs a chunk of flesh in his sharp little claws, and starts lick lick licking as hard and fast as he can. Will not leave until I forcibly grab him and lock him back the cage so I can go wash my face myself. If released, instantly runs back to the previous position and tries again, even more forcefully.
Sebastian: clambers his way cautiously up to my chest. Lays down on his stomach. Delicately licks my cheek for as long as I hold absolutely still. Does not use his claws. Does not return if I seem displeased. Usually doesn't even notice that I have something tasty on my face.
I put something new in the cage--
Wallace: is immediately fascinated and crawls all over and around it, sniff-sniff-sniffing all the way, chews on it experimentally, shoves it around, takes a running jump to land on it just to see what happens, and eventually pulls it into his hiding place to sleep with it.
Sebastian: approaches slowly and cautiously, as always. Sniffs it carefully, being sure that his nose does not actually touch the strange thing. Bats it curiously with one paw. Goes back to his hiding place to sleep far away from the scary new object.
I love my ratties.
I've been watching Season 1 for a while now. In evenings I would watch an episode or two, interspersed with a bunch of other things I was doing at the same time. I liked it okay, but not as much as I thought I would from the major squee I see around the internet. There were parts of the show that I liked, but a lot of it was pure ridiculousness. Some episodes were good, some really mediocre, none were truly fantastic. It confused me.
I liked the brothers and their interactions (and of course, their actors are freakin' hot and adorable together), but there was a constant temptation for the writers to make Sam annoyingly emo, and sometimes they gave in, and Dean's characterization also seemed a little inconsistent. The show had a good premise, but so many of the individual plots were just, well, stupid. The dialogue was pedestrian and some of the special effects didn't work, and there was the complete lack of geographical making-sense-ness (Why mention specific places and times that are clearly WRONG? Why not just leave it vague, instead of highlighting your own inability to use Google? WB writers are clearly wack.)
Not to mention, of course, that everything looks like Canada. But I'm willing to give them a (limited) pass on that. Still, when they make a big deal about the fact that they're now in, say, Georgia, or Oklahoma, or Kansas, or other places I've been (including a brief scene set in my own home city, Fort Wayne), and the environment looks nothing like the actual US state, it's quite distracting. But you know, okay, it's Hollywood. Whatever. It was just another detail on the pile that made the show a little less enjoyable for me.
And the usual Hollywood problem, of course, of EVERY SINGLE WOMAN EVER being incredibly hot. No matter how old she was supposed to be, or what her role in the story was, or whatever, even she was onscreen for two seconds, she had to be stunningly beautiful: tall, skinny, perfect features, the works. Yet another alternate TV universe where everyone is gorgeous. (Except the men. Men are allowed to look like whatever, didn't you know? Excluding, of course, Our Boys, who are very, very good-looking.) And white. I think there were maybe three people in the entire first season that weren't white, except for the one Very Special Episode that was supposed to be about racism, which they also ham-fistedly bungled. Not a real great reflection of America, there.
So yeah, I had accepted that this show was just pure pulp. If you sit down to watch it with the right expectations, it's enjoyable enough. Just a little fluff to pass the time. I liked it enough that I looked up a few fan-made music videos on YouTube, because I would be listening to the classic rock station here in town and hear a song that would make me think, "Sweet cousins, that would be just PERFECT for a Supernatural video," and then yep, sure enough, someone else had made one. That was fun.
So, Friday night. I drive home from work, and hear Carry on My Wayward Son, and I start daydreaming about how that just sounds so much like Dean, how he just fights and fight and fights, and never really gets to enjoy the fruits of his labors, and how it would be nice if his Dad, you know, gave him any encouragement at all instead of constantly tearing him down. (I had just watched the episode with the vampires and the gun and everything, where Stupid John was all, "you need to take better care of that car," and I wanted to reach into the TV and slap him silly, because seriously, DUDE. That is your son and he does everything for you and supports you unconditionally and he babies that car like nobody's business, so show some respect, please. And Dean looked so honestly hurt by that throwaway statement. I just... Really.)
And then. AND THEN. I started the next episode. And I got goosebumps. "Carry on my wayward so-on," wailed on the soundtrack. "There'll be peace when you. are. do-one." And then followed one of the coolest previouslys I had ever seen, backed up by that awesome, perfect song, and Dean's face all... EEEEE! Finally, a fantastic episode.
Pleasant surprise. Very pleasant surprise. Of course, I thought, maybe it's a fluke. But no. Those final two episodes were pretty great. Especially that scene in the last one where the demon in John's body is going after Dean and Dean is begging his father to fight back and save him and.... oh, I'm a hopeless Dean fan now. At first I liked the brothers pretty much equally, with Dean's devotion to Family and Duty and Sam's longing for True Love and always wanting to have a moral high ground and yearning for normality. But after that? Dean all the way, honey. I am a sucker for the hurt ones. He does a pretty good job of hiding it most of the time, but GAH. Poor baby, let me comfort you...
And then, yeah, I started watching season 2 and had a really hard time stopping. It's still pulp, no doubt about it. Most of my complaints from the first season still apply, though maybe to a lesser extent. (For instance, not all of the women appear to have walked off a glossy magazine anymore, and there are a few more roles for ethnic minorities.) And even so, it doesn't bother me as much. The show has evolved beyond the ridiculous Monster of the Week plots to have more of a compelling, overall arc. And yeah, I've fallen for the brothers. It's still pulp (juicy, delicious pulp), but goodness, I do love it. The good episodes heavily outweigh the mediocre ones now, in my estimation, and the fantastic ones come more and more frequently.
Also: my ratties. I love watching them, how their personalities are so different. Both are quite comfortable with me now, but still have their individual ways of dealing with things, and I think it's very cool.
I come home, sit on the couch, and open the cage beside it so the ratties can come out--
Wallace: immediately races out, scampers all over the couch, circles around several times, runs up my shoulder and down my back, climbs up on the back cushion to look around.
Sebastian: cautiously pokes his head out. Looks all around. Slowly exits the cage. Walks across my leg to the gap between the seat cushions and the back of the couch. Hunkers down in his hidey hole.
I offer them treats, like yogurt drops or a little piece of my own supper--
Wallace: leaps forward, seizes the treat in his teeth, runs away somewhere safe to gobble it, and soon emerges in search of more.
Sebastian: carefully sidles toward the treat. Gently takes it between his teeth. Walks away to his hidey hole. Eats it slowly. Only takes more if I stick it in front of his face, and sometimes not even then.
I have something on my face that they want to lick--
Wallace: scurries up to my neck, grabs a chunk of flesh in his sharp little claws, and starts lick lick licking as hard and fast as he can. Will not leave until I forcibly grab him and lock him back the cage so I can go wash my face myself. If released, instantly runs back to the previous position and tries again, even more forcefully.
Sebastian: clambers his way cautiously up to my chest. Lays down on his stomach. Delicately licks my cheek for as long as I hold absolutely still. Does not use his claws. Does not return if I seem displeased. Usually doesn't even notice that I have something tasty on my face.
I put something new in the cage--
Wallace: is immediately fascinated and crawls all over and around it, sniff-sniff-sniffing all the way, chews on it experimentally, shoves it around, takes a running jump to land on it just to see what happens, and eventually pulls it into his hiding place to sleep with it.
Sebastian: approaches slowly and cautiously, as always. Sniffs it carefully, being sure that his nose does not actually touch the strange thing. Bats it curiously with one paw. Goes back to his hiding place to sleep far away from the scary new object.
I love my ratties.