The lingering pinks are burning away before they recede into smoldering violets.
The clouds over them have grown implacably slate.
Fellow native New Yorkers, if you haven’t seen the mountains of Virginia, then you must do so at least once in this lifetime.
After finishing its seventh season, I’ve reached the point where I’d name “Game of Thrones” as the best fantasy I’ve ever read or seen. It’s also among the best television I’ve ever seen, period. I’d cheerfully rate this penultimate season a perfect 10.
I do understand some of the criticisms I’ve read from other fans. Yes, this shorter, more eventful, seven-episode arc could seem a little rushed when compared with prior seasons. And certain plot points in the last several episodes here are easy to nitpick.
But I can’t give less than a perfect rating to a show that I enjoyed this much. Season 7 added great action and special effects, lots of momentum, frightening horror, and some long-awaited conclusions to story arcs that began back in Season 1. And the show still has the best dialogue of any current television show that I’m aware of, usually supported by terrific acting.
I won’t say more for fear of spoilers. But I obviously loved this season.
My thoughts are with the good people of Texas tonight.
I am quite grateful tonight to see The Bees Are Dead publish my apocalyptic science-fiction/horror story, “At the End of the World, My Daughter Wept Metal.” (You can find it at the link below.)
I hope you enjoy it. It’s definitely one of my darker tales, and I was fortunate to receive some terrific editorial guidance from Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron, which greatly improved my original text.
I’d like to thank both Philippe and Dennis Villelmi over at B.A.D. for granting me this wonderful opportunity to share my voice! Cheers, Mates!
“At the End of the World, My Daughter Wept Metal”
Lombardy-Venetia Coat of Arms series, 45 Cents
Godspeed. Be safe. Be well.
This is the last and 20th of Gustave Dore’s art for the volume that can be found at Wikimedia Commons.
They said that Netflix’ “Iron Fist” (2017) was bad. They were … mostly right, at least as far as I can tell from the pilot. I’d rate the first episode a 4 out of 10.
This episode was a thinly scripted collection of common tropes, cluttered with clunky exposition and weird, improbable plot points. (A friendly homeless man helps the hero by googling key information for him on a stolen iPhone?) The show even managed to be briefly boring in parts.
“Iron Fist” has the depth and hastily concocted story of an 80’s primetime action show. But I don’t mean that in a fun, nostalgic way, I mean it in a bizarre, awkward way. I was actually reminded of Mystery Science Theater 3000 lampooning 1984’s ninja groaner, “The Master.” In fact … don’t “Iron Fist” and “The Master” have a similar story setup? There are some weird parallels, if you think about it.
Look … it wasn’t all bad. The fight choreography was actually damned good. I don’t know if that was actor Finn Jones performing the Kung-Fu, or a stunt double. But it was believable and a lot of fun to watch. It was nicely shot, too — the vibrant visuals had an appropriate comic-book feel, and were better than those that I would expect from this show’s companion series, “Daredevil” and “Jessica Jones” (2015).
I also submit that Jones is great in the role of the titular hero. He’s a decent actor, he’s well cast in the part, and I find Danny Rand to be a surprisingly likable protagonist. I just hope that “The Defenders'” new team-up places him in the hands of a better set of writers.
I told a friend in an e-mail tonight that I was “just trying to be intellectually honest.”
But I misspelled “intellectually.”
Irony, people.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 