True Blood: Your Warpaint Is Running

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Back when I was a big wrestling fan I had a rule; never watch the show before a big pay-per-view. For God's sake, never waste money going to a live show before the PPV.

It's not that it's a ripoff per se. It's just that whatever you're going to see is going to be the last of the beginning of what comes after, you know? It's like the ending of Kill Bill Vol. 1. Everyone who saw that in the theater left their seats with an enormous set of Blue Plot Balls, and often the episode before a season finale is the same.

True Blood is frankly notorious for this sort of thing. In seven years, I cannot name a single episode before the finale that was even passable.

I know that people tend to view this show and the books it was loosely based on as love stories. That's the section of Half Price Books you find these stories in; paranormal romance. It's a pedestrian reading of the texts, frankly. The real story is not who ends up with who, but who learns to live with themselves and how.

Not that you could tell from this week's episode. Bill Compton is dying, and refuses the treatment that would save his life. I'm not revealing too much of a spoiler hear by saying it's because he honestly thinks his death will be the best thing for Sookie, despite her saying the exact opposite. Even Eric, initially of the school of thought that one might actually consider the opinions of the object of your affection before doing something drastic like suicide, eventually relents and plays middle man so Sookie will listen to Bill white knight his way out of breaking her heart for her own good.

It was the most barftastic hour of television I have ever watched.

Sookie Stackhouse is a force to be reckoned with. She is an almost-human who has stood against ridicule and scorn her whole life, and puts that life on the line for a town that despised her. She's not a prize box of fairy pussy and easily hurt feelings to be divvied up among whichever vampire does the best Louis de Pointe du Lac impression.

I have no confidence that this show will end on a high note.

Story continues on the next page.

Case in point, the song that takes us out this week is Warpaint's "Love Is to Die." Now, I like this song. I honestly would compare it to the best of the Banshees, and I have almost no higher praise. It's fantastic stuff from a band that I hope gets a bit more love in its second decade as an ongoing concern.

But this song...it's a phone-in. It's a flavor of the week. I heard it in a freakin' commercial campaign for Calvin Klein last year. Even for a band that has proven itself very capable of deep thought and beautiful darkness, this is a trite track that masturbates screaming to old, boring conceptions of love.

I remember when this show plumbed the depths of musical darkness and searched for things that needed to be dragged out into the sun and burned. At the end they apparently go for whatever some 17-year-old has in her iPod at the moment.

What a sad ending.

Jef has a new story, a tale of headless strippers and The Rolling Stones, available now in Broken Mirrors, Fractured Minds. You can also connect with him on Facebook.


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