"...
So I did, but I don't want to use it" -- Tony Soprano, to Junior.
Revisiting The Sopranos, season one, to focus myself during carving this time.
Tony is trying to manage both his mother and Junior.
In one of my favorite episodes-I-had-forgotten-about, Tony is taking Meadow around on a college tour when he sees a potential informer enrolled in the witness program -- which needs to be addressed -- Meadow is astounded by her Dad's outrage over her confessed drug use, which she somehow though he'd take calmly, since he (kinda) admitted to being in the mob; meanwhile, Carmela is snuggling up to her weaselly father (religious, not familial) as they drink wine and watch movies together. Woohoo, bring on the moral relativism! When Javier and I were addicted to Breaking Bad, this was always what we returned to -- how adeptly the series explored increasingly fraught moral ambiguities. Based on the best TV out there, there seems to be no getting away from it. It would seem that this lay at the heart of almost all great, compelling Art.
And of human identity? Surely even the most lily white among us departs from the written rules, at some point? Bahhh, easy to delve into, easy to set aside, as one is carving in the basement, on a Sunday evening. This two-page spread marks our initial view of our young protagonist, Quimby.
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| Ready for a test print! |
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| Seemed fitting to break out a meat tenderizer, with Soprano viewing |
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| Here be dragons!...of a sort. |
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