The Wire…just, The Wire.
Watching Michael and Dukie completely succumb to the streets really jacked me up. Cheese needed to go. Marlo gets off, with all his scrilla, yet he can’t get the corner off his mind. I don’t know about you, but I knew that Freamon and McNulty weren’t going to jail. There was just too much corruption going on, on every level, and every finger that was pointed had dirt on it anyway. While Templeton was winning awards, Alma got shipped off to a never, neverland newsroom, which really pissed me off because again, it proves that mediocrity rises to the top. Oh, and big up to Bubbles for getting his life right. He’s got quite the journey ahead.
But the real question is, “Is art more interesting than life?” Or is it vice-versa?
Fast forward to this morning, and we get to see New York Governor, Spitzer, the “ethics reformer,” admit to some hanky-panky with prostitutes. Well, actually, he apologized to his family for the indiscretion, but seemingly, folks would like to see his head roll by the end of the news day. And his wife? I am so sick of seeing these long-suffering better-halves having to stand up at a podium next to their philandering spouses and gaze up at him while he catches a brick in public for something he’s done in private. I just hope Mrs. Spitzer’s check cleared. There would have to be some money exchanged for her to deliver that doting performance.
And now there are pharmaceuticals floating in our drinking water? What the hell?
I’m thinking about moving to Canada.