- It’s infuriating to me how much more enjoyable this was to me than Borgia or The Tudors. The dialogue is consistently better, the characters more vivid, the storylines more interesting.
- Loved this: “There is only one god, and his name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: ‘Not today.’ ”
- There are a lot of things that evolved the same on GoT planet just as they did on our planet. Apparently, evolution favors humans, cats, dogs, rats, pigs, potatoes, poppies, etc., regardless of things like climate or geography.
- Beware of people who’ve watched Game of Thrones without subsequently undergoing therapy.
- Khaleesi’s dragons (Sir Sean Connery) start out small. They grow. Why? They’re magical. Why must they eat? Why must they grow over time?
- Brienne of Tarth vs. The Hound!
- The most magical thing about GoT: lots of wine; not one vineyard.
- Reproduction on this planet takes place when men slap their flaccid penes against others’ pudenda. Just to be clear: we can graphically depict all manner of sadistic murder, but an erect penis or a vulva are completely out of the question. This isn’t new.
- This classic sex and violence in media debate reminds me of a recent conversation I had with some LDS missionaries. I’ve been meeting with missionaries on and off for a few years now. They’re always very polite, of course, and the conversations are always interesting. They were very polite, for example, when I told them how unfortunate I think the church’s latest stance on homosexuality is. And, they were very polite when I informed them that I’m agnostic and then gave a brief explanation of my utilitarianism. And, they were very polite when I questioned a basic premise of Christianity (namely, that God sacrificed Himself to Himself to save the humans he created from Himself — this doesn’t fit LDS theology perfectly, but the difference, I think, is unimportant). They also politely listened as I told them that I don’t think omnipotence, omniscience, and benevolence are compatible with the allowance of suffering.
The missionaries, as they usually do, suggested that if only I would read scripture with an open heart I’d be persuaded by it. I told them that, as someone who attended a Christian school, who has formally studied Biblical Hebrew, and who has generally been exposed to quite a lot of Judeo-Christian scripture, I feel like the open heart I started reading it with closes a little more each time I revisit it.
Which brings us back to Game of Thrones and the marvelous compendium of barbarism contained in both it and the Old Testament. The story that usually comes to mind first is from Judges 19. This chapter contains the heart-warming tale of a Levite man who’s having relationship issues with his concubine. They argue and she runs away to her father’s house. The Levite has to go to a different town to fetch her. It’s late as they’re heading back, so they stop in a very unwelcoming Benjaminite city. A man takes them in, but then his dwelling is surrounded by wicked men of the city who, Ã la Lot, order that the Levite be brought out so that he might be gang raped.
Well, the fearful men inside can’t have that, so the concubine is offered up instead. As the men rest peacefully inside their hut, the concubine gets gang raped nearly to death all through the night. She’s able to crawl home and then collapses at the door of the dwelling within which her partner is gently snoring. He wakes up, finds her at the door, tells her to get up, but she’s unresponsive. So, he loads her onto his donkey and, once home, chops her up into twelve pieces and mails the pieces off to the twelve tribes of Israel.
There’s some more slaughter, rape, and enslavement from there, but you probably get the idea. Utter barbarism. The million-dollar question: what was ol’ Jehovah doing this whole time?
As you can well imagine, there’s really nothing in Game of Thrones, a show of legendary violence and depravity, that really touches just this one story in the OT. It’s certainly difficult for me to imagine why the Bible isn’t decried by busybodies more frequently.
The missionaries told me to ask God about this stuff to see what I’m supposed to think about it all. And so I did. No, really! I knelt and said a prayer aloud up at the ceiling just like when I was 11. But, I didn’t feel what I think I was supposed to feel (a tingling sensation seems popular). At the same time, I couldn’t help wondering which God I was praying to: water-to-wine, cheek-turning, hippie God or Marquis de Sade, Jeffrey Dahmer God. Or, was it one even stranger to me? Aten? Huitzilopochtli? Ohrmazd? And, how could I know for sure that this tingle, if I were to feel it, isn’t actually some kind of spiritual roofie taking effect?
In conclusion, I thought Game of Thrones was pretty good. â€ª#â€Žspoilertheyalldieâ€¬