Tag: Derision

Feature – The Eye of Newb – GoT: Season 2 Episode 3

Editor’s Note: “The Eye of Newb” contains spoilers from the episode listed. If you have not watched the episode written about, you have been warned. But as Matt has not read the books (as of yet), you do not have to worry about future spoilers.
Over the next three days we’ll be releasing episode recaps for episodes 3, 4, and 5. Enjoy!

Listen closely, Friends… hear that gentle shuffling scrape barely discernible above the pounding rage in yours ears? Yeah. That. Swoosh, swoosh, swooshthat would be the Newb’s forehead brushing the floor as he sways, repentant, nay penitent, groveling before Your kindness and gentle mercy. Before that oil-sheened blade of Yours meets the base of my medulla oblongata with a satisfying, yet coolly lethal crunch, I plead with you, Dear Readers… perhaps Reader by this point… hear my plea!

A paper intervened. A 20-page monster, in fact. Big, hairy monster. With fangs and talons, and a 50% impact on my final grade.

No?

An old friend came in from out of town?
My suit was at the cleaners?
A terrible plague? Locusts?!
Crap. How about a heartfelt ‘I’m sorry’? Thank you, Sweet Intercessors! I will write for Thee, and in abundance…

All kidding and pretense firmly aside, the Newb extends his humble apologies for the substantial delay in posting the column. i had to dive into some obscure books and mount a case revolving around French anarchism and origins of a school of thought. it was immensely fun and enriching, but demanded substantially more time than i thought it would when i began. You, Good People suffered for that loss of time.  but now I offer you my amends in the form of a three-episode super cobo pack of snakry derision, thorough confusion and other horrors too numerous to name.  Get some tea, or perhaps something stronger. make sure you can reach the toilet paper, depending on where you choose to partake. You’ll be here a while.

The Eye of Newb: Game of Thrones (HBO) Season 2 Episode 3: \\What is Dead May Never Die\\

By: Matt Lynch

“Every man who has tasted my cooking has told me what a good whore I am.” – Shae

Part the First, wherein the Black is sent packing and Jon Snow finally proves he’s human – unless the undead bleed in Westeros.

  • Old Craster seems a might peeved that his nighttime Yeti feeding was observed, and Lord Mormont equally so that Jon went and dropped his sword again.
  • Oh, dear me… the moon-faced git has truly fallen hard for Gilly the Sister Wife. He’s handing out his dear Mum’s jewelry now. Those two might just make some ugly kids one day.

Part the Second, wherein incessant off-camera panting reigns, and Bran is informed that he’s not so special after all and may just need better drugs.

  • What is it with Bran and freaky animist dreams?  I really wish that these little vignettes would be, oh, I dunno, maybe explained somehow.
  • The old Maester reminds very much of Terrence Stamp, which makes me think of The Limey. I liked that movie.  A lot. Oh wait, the show’s still on…
  • Apparently Westeros don’t need no stinkin’ magic, and Bran should just get the silly notion that any exists out of his head.  Okay, sure.  That explains the live dragons.

Part the Third, wherein we meet Brienne, the first truly interesting non-Imply character in months, and dueling redheads steal the show.

  • Ser Loras got smoked. And not in the good, tender, loving way, either.
  • Damn! That is a formidable and frightening woman. I like her already.
  • So, now Renly’s got himself his own Dog, or Bitch, or something. Brienne is one hell of a bodyguard, that’s for sure.
  • Cat can’t catch a break. Loras mocks her, the “queen” disdains her, and Renly treats her like a much dumber woman than she is.
  • Oh Gawdamighty! Winter again?!  Somebody put these people in touch with a decent meteorologist for the love of all that’s holy – well, that and for my sanity.
  • On the upside, I like Brienne even more watching her scoff at any feminine title. She promises to be a storyline worth following.

Part the Fourth, wherein high and mighty Ego King gets insolent. and pissy…. again, and is given a commission worthy of his stature.

  • I’m not kidding. That is one wicked-ass fireplace.
  • Ah, the love of siblings long separated.
  • But Daddy… but, but, you never loved me… you gave me away.  Someone please slap  Theon again, please? The flat smacking against his scruffy little cheek does my heart good.

Part the Fifth, wherein Impness finally lends some worth to the broadcast, and Shay brags about her domestic skills.

  • Shae’s going a little stir crazy. Poor thing.
  • Tyrion as a protective lover? Now that’s a new twist.
  • That scene was way too short.  I only hope for more Imp to come.

Part the Sixth, wherein Sansa projects that special desolate fealty of which only she is capable, and gets a new stylist in the bargain.

  • I don’t know the actress who plays Sansa, but I’m pretty sure that if she keeps up this revealing emotion without words bit for the entire season, she may deserve an award as nice as Peter Dinklage’s.
  • I’d lay a fair wager that Cersei is bereft of a conscience.
  • Hmmm… Shae will be serving as Sansa’s handmaiden. Well played, Tyrion. Well played.
  • Uh-oh, loads of suppressed rage pilling forth from poor Sansa, all with such a fragile edge of loneliness.

Part the Seventh, wherein the Imp hatches a bit of skulduggery, and we learn that even in Westeros, they still sell Milk of Magnesia.

  • Tyrion is on a spy-hunt. What a glorious game of ‘Who’s the Rat?’ My money’s on Littllefinger.
  • Can I also say that watching the interplay between between the Imp and Baelish is the most fun I’ve had all night? This means not only that both Aidan Gillen and Dinklage are superb actors, but also that there hasn’t been nearly enough killing going on.
  • Baelish is beginning to see that he actually has a worthy adversary in the Imp. This does not bode well for Tyrion. That Baelish is a slippery bastard.

Part the Eighth, wherein we witness a heaping pile of uncomfortable man-love, and we learn that by the yardstick of royal bedchamber behavior, maybe the Lannisters aren’t the most twisted after all.

  • Eeesh.  I’m an enlightened, open-minded modern man of he world and all, but I really didn’t need, well, pretty much all of that.
  • Apparently, Loras is a little pouty about the whole “Brienne of the Kingsguard” deal. Guess we know who the wife is.
  • Things are looking up, based solely on the new boudoir companion and her choice in vestments, but this has got to be the most awkward love scene ever.
  • Ha! Only a confirmed gay king would open the pillow talk to his fetching bride with “Love your gown.” Just saying’.
  • Shut up and kiss her, Renly. That’s how this dance goes.
  • Gah! Did she just say that it’s perfectly alright for her brother to come in and help? Okay, really, this scene is like the Ving Rhames basement scene in Pulp Fiction. It cannot end fast enough.

Part the Ninth, wherein Cersei (yes!) feels pain.

  • Tyrion tries desperately to explain the world of entangling alliances to his cruel sister, and she just goes all “I’ll rip up your little piece of paper, too” on him. Stay classy, Cersei.

Part the Tenth, wherein Ego-boy finally picks a side, and another bizarre seaside ritual unfolds.

  • Careful with that candle, Theon. You might singe your classic Shaggy van dyke.
  • The Drowned God, now?! How many freakin’ gods are there in Westeros? By my count we’re somewhere around twelve now – in a landmass that seems to be roughly the size of Connecticut. I’m gonna need like a flowchart or something before all this is over, aren’t I?

Part the Eleventh, wherein someone finally gets away with calling Tyrion a dwarf, and the Imp unearths a mole.

  • Bronn is awesome.
  • Pycelle is a rat of high quality. He turned on Varys faster than Eagles fans turned on Ricky Watters.
  • What’s with the beard? think I’m missing something again.
  • Off to jail goes the Maester, as Tyrion shows the kind heart hiding beneath that small and deceitful chest of his.

Part the Twelfth, wherein a Spider and an Imp imbibe, and the runner-up line of the night is spoken.

  • Yeah, yeah, Varys, a priest a rabbi and a sherpa walk into a pedicure joint… your point?
  • “Power resides where men believe it resides.” So true, that. Varys is like an incessantly prattling Silent Bob.

Part the Ultimate: Alas poor Yoren. We knew him well. He was a crafty old bastard who was good with a blade.

  • Wow, so a march to the wall feels a lot like a cub scout campout. Dead-tired boys snoring everywhere.
  • Oh, no… I feel very bad about Yoren chances. My experience with this series is that a big, heart-warming and connective reveal like the speech about killing Willem is a sure harbinger of death.
  • Yep. There it is. Dammit. I liked Yoren.
  • Funny how poorly all these supposed gutter rats run from a fight and can’t seem to obey warnings, isn’t it? Just like their leader.
  • That crossbow scene was flat-out awesome. More like that, please.
  • Hmmm. So Arya saved Jaqen’s life. That feels significant somehow. We’re down a Yoren, but have gained a Jaqen. Fair trade.
  • Oh, crap. Arya’s lot just keeps getting worse. Now she’s in Lannister hands. At least Gendry’s safe now. Poor blonde kid. The penalty for stealing the wrong helmet is death, fool.

Okay, so better than last week, and the introduction of at least two new characters with promise will keep me in for next.

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s Newb review for Episode 4, “Garden of Bones.”

Feature – The Eye of Newb – GoT: Season 2 Episode 1

Editor’s Note: “The Eye of Newb” contains spoilers from the episode listed. If you have not watched the episode written about, you have been warned. But as Matt has not read the books (as of yet), you do not have to worry about future spoilers. Enjoy!

 

The Eye of Newb: Game of Thrones (HBO) Season 2 Episode 1: \\The North Remembers\\
By: Matt Lynch

“You love your children. It’s your one redeeming quality. That and your cheekbones.” – Tyrion Lannister

So, Good People, it appears that, despite your fervent hopes and murmured prayers, last season’s poll and The Landlord have spoken. The Newb returns to opine amongst You. I’m grateful to be welcomed back and fortunate enough to have spent the viewing of Episode One amidst a cavalcade of wicked interesting and very nice folk Chooch, Viv, Scott, Hizzoner, and the inimitable Molly were my companions for ‘The North Remembers’.

Before I launch into my initial tirade (for this year) regarding the natural inferiority of the pure fantasy form, I feel a due diligence apology is in order. The Newb will have some, shall we say, “time management” challenges during the first few weeks of the second season. No alibis, but I am not only humbly submitting this screed for your collective derision and/or approval, but also completing a rather important (to the tune of 50% of final grade) research paper. Mea culpa is all I can offer.  S’better than a stick in the eye, though, yeah?

Onward…

Part the First, wherein Geoffrey is a prissy, bloodthirsty twit (again), and a bag of chips is breached with dramatic flair by Chooch.

  • Seriously. Joffrey = Twit. Hopefully the writers off him quickly and mercilessly.
  • I’ve never cared much for wine, but I daresay the bumbling Ser Dontas the Red cares for it even less than I having drunk it by the cask. At least sweet, clever, if pitifully morose Sansa uses his misfortune to save his sodden life.
  • Sweet!! His Impness arrives armed with Insults Copious! Suddenly, the show is redeemed, I remember why I made it through the first season, and Bronn is awarded the first great one-liner of the night.
  • Joffrey has no idea what’s coming. Hee, hee, hee.

Part the Second, wherein Cersei is ferociously gob-smacked, and the first of many allusions to the season following Autumn is uttered. (At 6:50 into the season?! Really?!! It’s a natural cycle, fictional persons! Perspective!)

  • Double-yay! Baelish. More than a five-year cold snap = fewer peasants. Snicker.
  • Cersei… still a bitchy ice queen. Consistency is nice.
  • The whistling offstage heralds but one (small) man.
  • Hmmm.. that’s quite a portent-filled glance between Baelish and Tyrion. It bodes well for a season of Imply magic in King’s Landing.
  • Awesome. Cersei is literally irate at Tyrion’s new assignment. This makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.  Well, okay, the Gaelic Ale is arguably helping some, too. Still…
  • Line of the night at 9:36.  (that and your cheekbones). Almost makes up for all the sturm and drang about the snowy season.

Part the Third, wherein Bran gets testy and strange dreams occur without the freakishness of a three-eyed bird.

  • Not much to say here, except that that is one of the cheesiest comet trails I’ve ever seen and Nymphadora Tonks has turned into some sort of sylvan astro-herpetologist. Amazing what Ye Olde Serving Wenches Academy is turning out these days.

Part the Fourth, wherein Sweet Dany does her best Moses and Hi-yo Silver bites it in the the Red Waste.

  • Aww, poor horsey. You’re dragon din-din, now.
  • Gibberish with subtitles again? What is this? Star Trek?

Part the Fifth, wherein we meet the Sister Wives and learn that the North is no place, even for Wildings.

  • This Mance Rayder seems an interesting fellow. Could be a fun thread to go exploring this season.
  • BTW, what, O Sage Readers, is it with all of the smallholder freakazoids who have nothing better to do than schtup their own offspring? This is your idea of a compelling world where one would want to spend some time? Bah.
  • Sage advice from Mormont to Bubba Snow Tep, though. Jon is an uppity, overconfident and brooding bastard who could use a lesson or two in following orders.

Part the Sixth, wherein we learn to never trust redheads in ceremonial cloaks burning effigies, and finally meet Stannis Baratheon.

  • Hmmm… esoteric seaside ceremony revolving around fire and incantations… where the vestal virgins at?
  • How (yawn) Arthurian. Pull the blade from the pyre and speak the words of destiny.  Snnk…zzzzzzzzz…urk.. wha?
  • This old monk is not long for the world. I’m calling it right now, dead within five minutes.
  • I do like Stannis’ personality, I must say. The kind descriptor would be something along the lines of ‘direct’.
  • Lord of Light? WTF?
  • Bend the knee or I will destroy them. I like the sound of that.
  • Yep. Dead monk. RIght on cue.
  • This new redhead is eeee-vil. Awesome.

Part the Seventh, wherein, oh never mind. Nice doggie. Nice doggie. Rip off the Kingslayer’s face now… go on… that’s a GOOD doggie… no wait. Dammit. Bad doggie.

Part the Eighth, wherein we learn that Shay can smell cum from a balcony and is an equal-opportunity geographical copulator.

  • Peter Dinklage needs another award. Stat.

Part the Ninth, wherein Cersei gives us all a lesson in power and a pause button is grudgingly depressed.

  • This wordplay between Littlefinger and the Queen Regent is riveting. Seriously.
  • Apparently knowledge isn’t power – four armed men who cater to your every crazy whim unquestioningly are. Well played, Cersei. The Newb loathes you, but must concede stellar intimidation technique.

Part the Tenth, wherein some dull stuff happens and I lose interest.

  • Just can’t get into murmured threats and bargaining in torchlit tents. Too much setup. Drowning in it. Glub.
  • Oh, well. A boy should trust his mother, I guess.
  • And speaking of the Stark girls, I wonder how young Arya is faring these days. Anything but this. Anything. no more tents and torchlight.

Part the Eleventh, wherein Joffrey redecorates and mewls like the bitch he is.

  • Whoa. I wouldn’t go pissing off yer mum, there blondie-pants. She may love you, as the Imp established earlier, but she’s also got four well-armed men at her beck and call.
  • Nice! The little whimper as he’s slapped only stokes my revulsion for the new “King”.

Part the Twelfth, or rather Part the Ros, because she’s too superlative to be enumerated.

  • Ha! “Ease into it.” Seeing Ros walk the new young talent through the same indoctrination she got at the elbow of Littlefinger is priceless.
  • Haystack Hall? Seriously? Didn’t they film Medieval Hee-Haw there?
  • So, so happy Ros is back.
  • No. Must look away. Can’t look away. That dude just gutted a baby.
  • Crap. I know this feeling. I’m hooked again.
  • Rounding up and snuffing out the royal bastards seem to be the order of the day. That makes Arya’s lot a tad more dangerous, given the company she kept at the end of Season One.
  • Yep. There it is.

 

Well, Friends, it was touch and go for parts of Episode One, but between Ros and the eviscerated infant, The Newb is indubitably committed for at least one more week. Thanks for your ongoing patience, and…

Cheers!