I know that I’ve skimped on doing a True Blood recap the last couple of weeks, and for that I apologize. Sort of, and somewhat. The truth being that the show inculcates in me something of a blind rage, and a recap would be me smashing angrily on a keyboard, nerd rage clouding my vision and mind.

But!, I have been consigned to do a recap, and I promise one. So here I am. We’re going to try and keep it positive today. That’s right, I won’t bring any complaints. It’s going to be a short recap.

Is it commonly accepted at this point that Hoyt and Jessica’s relationship is the best on the show? And furthermore, the most interesting one? I love the scenes between the two of them, and I find their relationship eminently relatable. Hoyt is suffering from Rebounditcus Con Douchecuntinus. It’s a common problem for man and woman alike.

Rebounding with a douchey person out of a sense of need to be with someone. Yeah man, I been there Hoyt. Stay strong. And you probably have too, faithful readers. When Hoyt is all, “Man, I fucking hate her”, it struck a cord.

I remember my last rebound chick. A psychosis that was only surpassed by the jungle in her loins. Flossin’ for weeks, yo. And stalked for months.

Stay strong, Hoyt.

I know I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do, but I’m totally in love with Northman’s crusade for revenge against Russell Nazi Guy. I mean, c’mon. It’s a Viking seeking out the man responsible for his father’s death. And yeah, of course I’m a bit smitten with smoldering Eric and the way he just sort of broods into the camera. I think between my girlfriend and myself there’s an unspoken appreciate for Eric that crosses (blurry) lines of sexual preference and gender.

The only thing is, what are they going to do with Northman once he consummates his Revenge Quest? He’ll totally level-up and gain +30 Serenity, but please lord don’t place him back in the Gap-Toothed Wonder / Brooding Confederate Vampire dynamic. They’re insuffertable enough, we don’t need to drag the entire cast into it.

And finally, the coup de grace, the final three minutes of the episode. I hadn’t been this enthralled with an episode of True Blood since perhaps the first episode of the entire series. Or, when Godric was on screen rockin’ out as Jesus Christ Vampire. Spittin’ about acceptance and life.

If I knew Russell Edgington was going to be this interesting by the end of his arch, I don’t think I would have hated him with the passion that I did. Dude stole the entire episode. Between rolling in the exploded bits of Previously Talbot, to cooing into a chalice of Talbot mush, he was a rollicking clusterfuck of insane absurdity.

That’s when this show is rollin’, when they eschew the brain-numbing awkward love-slop pandering for some sort of ridiculous moment drizzled in light social commentary.

And goddamn, did we get it last night.

There’s something about offering a social critique while holding the spinal cord of a fallen douche that appeals to me. I don’t know if it’s the social critique, or the spinal cord dripping in muck, or perhaps a synergy of the two circumstances that speaks to me. But if you combine the two of them in an absurd monologue, you’re going to crush it in my eyes.

So Russell did that. His monologue carefully towed the precipice between preachy and insightful, and any time I was about to groan, I remember he was doing it while his right hand was covered in some dude’s central nervous system.

I sat slack-jawed at the ridiculousness of the scene, and by the time he kicked it over to the meteorologist, I almost forgot that at the middle of the episode I was so bored I was checking my email on my phone.

Almost.

Alright, I’m just going to come out and say that I’ve pretty much given up on ever genuinely enjoying this show like I once did. Perhaps it was a delusion, some sort of apparition or glamouring that tricked me into thinking this show was dope. But at this point, it comes off like a mush of romance and homoerotic tension. And while I am typically a lover of both romance and homoerotic tension, I’m pretty sure that from now on True Blood will be spent counting the time until a real show comes on.

I’ve figured out that this current season can be broken down into three distinct entities.

1. Eric Northman Cock Teases Everyone
King Dandyfuck, or whatever his name is, killed Eric’s dad. Who was a King. And now in a manner to ingratiate himself into the King’s inner circle in an effort to ultimately kill him, he’s begun hitting on him. And King Dandyfuck’s husband. I dug this at first, since I imagined myself being hit on by Eric and I glowed a bit inside. Then it just sort of kept going, and I’m like, alright dude, do something.

But he isn’t content just cock-teasing King Dandyfuck and the king’s typically flamboyant husband. He also spends a good amount of time growling and making comments at Sookie, and then Sookie is like “Roar roar I’ll never forgive you, roar roar, gap-toothed annoyingness.” So Eric walks around a lot in tight-fitting shirts and running his finger up and down people’s stomachs. Every episode. Forever.

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Zap! And Laser Hands Sookie returned this week to smite all sorts of dumb ass werewolves and mynads and other people who be acting the fool! The mystery surrounding Sookie continues to grow, and I’m wondering just what the hell is up with Ms. Stackhouse. They’ve been hinting at her being special for a while now, and with the implication that Billy No Pulse was hunting her down far before he fell in love with her continuing to come to light, I’m intrigued.

Are you ready for the forthcoming bullshit that will spill from Bill’s lips, something like “Sookie, I was sent to procure you, but then however, you procured my heart!” Barf. Watch for it.

Meanwhile, Franklin is the best dude on the show. Being insane is awesome. Being an insane vampire is even better. How do I know he’s insane? He’s fallen in love with the most loathsome character on the entire show. Fuck Tara. God, what a waste of time she is on the screen. All she does is make that same stupid concerned face over and over again, which amounts to her pinching her mouth and vibrating as she gets teary-eyed. Yawn, yo! Yawn.

Tara’s like a bunch of other characters on the show: getting too much fucking screen time. There’s no center to the show this season. I mean, there’s a theoretical center which is Sookie, looking for Bill, but she’s not always on the screen, and when she is, she’s with Alcide, who is hunting that King Guy, who is with Bill, who is being chased by Eric who is…who is…Do you see my point?

Fug.

Jason Stackhouse, shirtless, in aviator sunglasses. Bullseye. I wish I could just watch Jason Stackhouse hang out all day with Andy. Jason Stackhouse, blathering bullshit near a pond in the middle of some awkwardly shot scene? What’s the opposite of bullseye?I know this show is just Hot Dudes and Chicks Punching and Fucking Supernatural Entities, but I mean, c’mon. Keep Jason as the comedic relief, or at least keep him away from romantic interludes in the middle of an episode.

Please?

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Yeah, I ain’t got any words. Just check it out.

Motherfucking True Blood! It’s back! And it didn’t suck! Yes, righteous, awesome, et cetera. I had an inkling that I actually enjoyed True Blood, and it was something I was certain of by the time the “Last Season on True Blood” ran prior to last night’s season debut. With knowledge in hand that certainly Maryann was dead, Eggs was fucking rigor mortis, and nothing could be worse than the last five episodes of last season, I dove in. And it was fucking assloads of fun! Literally!

I mean, jesus christ, how many ass shots did they give us last night? Not that I don’t think it was warranted. All last season was like, copious tits and orgies. Where were the dude butts at? Sure, there were the scenes where Sookie fantasized about Eric and he was laying in bed with her and stuff. But still, where was the butt at! Well, we got it last night. Jason’s butt, Eric’s butt, where the fuck was Andy’s butt? I was hankering for some cavernous, hairy, unrelenting butthole. But whatever, I can’t complain, can I?

The season premiere had Bill getting kidnapped by a bag of dicks who are apparently werewolves. Wut? Say wut? Alright, this is already cool. I can get down with werewolves. Even if they’re fucking hillbillies that ultimately get owned by good ole Billy Compton. We get to see Bill sans Sookie, and it was right around that point that I realized something: Sookie is a blackhole of gap-toothed suck. Everything that gets sucked into her orbit is mired in suck, infected with her Jack-O-Lantern evil.

How do I know this?

Bill was fucking rad last night. From digging himself out of a grave to snacking on ole Grannie Stinky Puss or whatever her name was, to throwing down with werewolves, he exuded cool in a way that I forgot he could. It’s amazing what the guy can do when he’s not being written as a litany of syrupy proclamations of love.

SOOKIE I LOVE THEE

SOOKIE, I CANNOT ALLOW THEE TO ENDANGER ONE’S SELF

SOOKIE, YOUR HEART IS BUT AN EMBLEM AS GORGEOUS AS THE CONFEDERATE FLAG.

And on and on and on. Rock on Billy Compton. I can adore you, it appears, under the right circumstances.

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[source : slashfilm]

Came across this poster and another one over at Slashfilm today, and I was surprised how excited it made me. I didn’t like True Blood Season 2. It started off good, flamed out in the middle, and shit itself at the end. If I had to endure one more obvious bullshit turn by Maryann, I was going to slit myself. However, I loved the beginning of it, as well as Season 1. So, these posters get me stoked like woah, and I’m always willing to give a new season of a show I previously loved another shot. There’s a chance for self-correcting, and please god, perhaps Sookie taking a 2×4 to the skullplate.

Ah, True Blood. Your second season just wasted a chunk of my Sunday evenings for an entire summer. Now you have a video came coming:

Via Kotaku:

HBO’s filed a trademark registration for its show “True Blood,” in relation to video games.

What Kotaku failed to report was the entire trademark that was filed. The game is going to be titled True Blood: Boring Pontificating In-between Emo Declarations…Rise of Alan’s Balls. I’d like to strike every person who buys this game in the crotch with enough force to render them in half.

What follows is a true formless rant. And spoilers everywhere.

Ah True Blood. Fuckyou.com What a shitty second season you delivered me. No, you weren’t completely awful. You had your moments. The Stackhouse at the crazy religious camp storyline was cool. Godric was bad ass. But then you killed him, two episodes into his career. And Eric was cool. For a bit.

But now he’s just another boring ass love story. Last night’s season finale managed to capture in one hour what the entire season was. A half-hour of storyline, a half-hour of filler.

Let’s think about this for a second. The Maryann storyline was like fifteen episodes long. It should have been like three, but they dragged it out mercilessly. And then, for some reason which I cannot fathom, they ended it in fourteen minutes. What followed was a shitty promotional video for season three. I knew that I had lost faith in True Blood when, last night, the entire cast was playing the ukulele while awaiting the birth of some God or some shit.

And then Maryann is killed by Sam, because she’s tricked into believing a God has come. I GET IT RELIGIOUS COMMENTARY. EVEN GODS CAN BE FORCED TO BELIEVE SOMETHING IF THEY WANT IT BAD ENOUGH.

How do you take Eric and make him suck? Easy, you embroil him in a boring ass love story. Eric was the Boba Fett of True Blood. He was cool because he kicked ass, didn’t say much, and received just enough screen time for him to seem ominous and righteous and cool and shit. But in the span of three or four episodes, you have him giggling and smiling and weeping as Godric dies like a little punk idiot. THEN, you have him naked in dream sequences with Sookie? You have to be out of your God damn mind. What a pile of bullshit.

This show is like the Office with vampires. Will Sookie choose Eric? Or will she choose Bill? OMFG.

I DON’T FUCKING CARE.

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You’re all welcome for the picture. I thought Evan Rachel Wood coming onto True Blood (pictured above) would be awesome. Why? As seen above, she’s absolutely gorgeous. I guess most of the time. She debuted on Sunday, puffy-faced and pimply, spitting awful dialogue from Mr. Alan Ball.

My good friend Mr. Patrick Mars writes a hilarious True Blood Re-Up every week over at Mishka Bloglin. Poor dude was watching True Blood tonight and texting me as he endured it, and he hit me with a sentence that hollered genius. In one blast of hilarity, he captures how I feel about the entire episode:

I wonder if this is how they explain shit in the books. Its like Muppet Babies.

Awesome.

[ spoilers from 8/30, you’ve been warned. ]

I know that Alan Ball is all whacky and amazing and he’s responsible for Six Feet Under and American Beauty and True Blood. But with that in mind, I’d like to kindly ask him to never write True Blood again. Ball’s sporadic appearances on True Blood raise important issues I have with television shows and comic books. They both routinely feature different writers interpreting the same characters. But let’s stick to one issue here. True Blood.

Here’s the first problem with Alan Ball on True Blood. He doesn’t write it every episode, but he acts like he does. The various writers that contribute to True Blood work to create a cohesive universe. They pay respect to the other writers’ work on developing characters, and script their episodes accordingly. And then Alan Ball comes in and he’s all:

OH HAI GUYZ, I CREATES THIS SHOW, I DO WHAT THE FUKK I WANT.

In his episodes, Ball throws the characters’ behaviors and development out the window for his view of how they act. For example, his Jason Stackhouse is a bumbling redneck retard. To the zillionth degree. His Lafayette is uber hood.

Stackhouse is appealing because he’s the idiot kid who may have some cerebral activity, but it’s consistently stifled before it can brim over the top. He’s always the lovable retard, but Ball plays that up to the point of nausea. Jason’s arc and redemption in the L.O.D.I episodes proved him to be a nuanced dumb ass, not some slapstick retard. I love his stupidity as much as anyone, but I love that underneath it all, he’s redeemable. How stoked were you when he capped Steve Newlin in his dumb Bible-Thumping-Face?

And then there’s Lafayette. Lafayette’s arc on the show was really friggin’ interesting at the begin of the season. Tortured and left for dead in a dungeon, Lafayette’s character had been turned inside out. He had seen the darkness, and we got to see a guy wounded emotionally and physically from that sort of serious shit.

Then Ball steps in.

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