I’ve been operating under the assumption that season eight was the final season for a long time… years maybe? Despite the wishy-washy nature of Claire’s late spring press, I remained convinced that season eight was the last one. Still, I nervously refreshed Twitter through my spotty connection on the subway home. I knew that if Showtime was going to announce the final season, they’d do it at the TCAs today. And I knew that nothing was set in stone and 100% final until it came from Nevins himself.
I’m feeling a wave of emotions right now, despite having had so long to prepare for this announcement.
I’m happy that the show gets to end on its own terms and that Showtime and Fox had the wherewithal to let Alex and Claire decide when it was time to go.
I’m relieved that the end is in sight and that I myself will be able to close this chapter of my life in just over a year.
And I’m sad, too. Sad because this space and this show have been a strange sort of anchor in my life for a really long time, a constant through college graduation, new jobs, a few cross-country moves, and new relationships and opportunities. It has been a comfort through the ups and downs of real life. I could probably never articulate how grateful I am for it and for the people it’s brought into my life. And while I know those people will still be there when this show is gone, the idea of this space growing darker and slower does make me feel anxious and a little bit mournful.
Like the show, nothing around here is getting canceled. Rather, it’s all just coming to its natural conclusion. In the beginning, no one was really listening. In the end, and because life is strange and mysterious like that, no one may be again.
But before I knew how to do much of anything around here–before I could make ok-looking gifs, before I understood how to edit podcasts, before I knew HTML and CSS and Photoshop–this space was here. A space where I could click “New post” and just write, where my voice could be uniquely, unabashedly mine. Maybe it would reach a few people, maybe it wouldn’t. But it was my home. And, like a real home, the assurance that it would be there for me to come back to has meant more to me than I could ever say. It’s been freeing in ways I can’t describe. I’ll really miss that.
Thanks for coming along for the ride, and cheers to a final go-round.
The end of one thing opens the door for something new to begin. I can’t wait to see what that is for you! 😘
Fly me to the moon, Ernest!
A night at the beach, campfire, booze, earnest conversation…
Where are the marshmallows?
I really love making Rupert gifs! FYI, in case you guys didn’t know.
Strange Angel – “Evocation of the Elders”
(This is a recap/review of the eighth episode of Strange Angel. There are spoilers, so proceed with caution! Catch up on the rest here.)
Richard is on a date with the bewitching Marisol! It’s a movie date for The Wizard of Oz, and Richard is simply beside himself like an inexperienced teenaged boy. He eyes Marisol’s hand on her knee and tries to sneak an arm around her, but he loses his nerve. Next, he makes a move for her hand, but she reaches for her popcorn before he can make contact. He makes one more attempt, reaching his hand out very cautiously. Suddenly, Marisol grips his hand and sighs, as the scene in the movie changes from tense to relief.
After the movie, they sit in a taxi outside her apartment. The meter clicks loudly while the taxi driver clears his throat. Marisol talks about the movie and how Dorothy was really a player, like her roommate…who, by the way, works nights and is not at home…Richard looks uncomfortable and begs off since he has the big D.C. trip scheduled for the next day. Marisol clears her throat and bids Richard goodbye. She’s obviously hurt by the snub, and the taxi driver doesn’t fail to notice the whole exchange, either.
Richard returns home to find Jack waiting for him. By this point, Jack knows he was not invited to D.C., but he is surprisingly supportive and encouraging to Richard. Jack rationalizes his lack of an invitation to D.C. because Richard has a security clearance from the propeller team. Jack proposes Richard use their rocketry proposal, even though Professor Mesulam indicated the military was interested in “a more practical application.” Jack dismisses this and insists General Braxton has interest in rocketry. He hands over their rocketry proposal and does his best to build up Richard’s confidence in his own presentation and salesman skills (the very skills Jack has in spades).
For whatever reason, Jack mentions he is surprised Richard is actually going to fly in an airplane to D.C. At first, I didn’t know if something happened in Richard’s past, or if it was just a comment on Richard’s low-risk tolerance. Later, I believe it’s clear the statement was a comment on how averse Richard is to risk. The scene ends on a bittersweet note, with Jack envious, but still encouraging Richard to take a chance and use the rocketry proposal.
The next morning, Jack wakes up in what is becoming his more permanent sleeping quarters – his garage. He reads from his Thelema book and steps outside in his pajamas. Flies buzz noisily around white, full milk bottles left on Ernest’s porch. I guess Jack isn’t banished completely from his house, because next, we see he’s inside making more of a mess than a real breakfast. Broken eggshells litter the stove, yolk seeping out. Jack flips a burned omelet and offers it to a disinterested Susan.
Susan: “I’m not hungry.”
Jack: “Are you gonna keep this up forever?”
Susan: “Please don’t do that.”
Jack: “Do what?”
Susan: “Act like I’m the one who’s being unreasonable.”
Of course, Jack doesn’t want to give up Thelema, but Susan cautions that the military will scrutinize him. Jack begs for forgiveness, but it doesn’t seem like Susan thinks she can forgive him. Their argument (although it’s a pretty low key argument – almost like Susan is beyond caring at the moment) is interrupted by a phone call. Jack answers and tells Susan someone’s car broke down, and they need a ride to work. He also tells her he will be working late.
It’s all lies, cause Jack is really talking to a very drunk and out of sorts Ernest. Ernest is calling from a pay phone at the beach – Point Dume.
Episode 8 of Strange Angel!
Here’s the Ernest sex outfit, @lizzyervs! 😂 Very hot! And when I say hot, I mean he must be sweating his balls off under that sack.
Come on, Strange Angel — show us a little more Ernest skin!