Ruth made a sound that was sort of like a laugh, but may not have been. Perhaps she remembered when I’d briefly confused “House of Cards” with “Game of Thrones” 10 years ago and tried in vain to find “Game of Cards.”
“Of course, even the one throne is bad enough,” I continued. “It’s made out of a bunch of swords.”
I do wonder about that throne. So unsafe. Forget “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” Uneasy is the bottom that sits on the throne!
Frankly, Westeros is an Occupational Safety and Health Administration nightmare. Not a single eyewash station. No protective eyewear on the dragon keepers. I doubt employers provide stand-up desks.
The Consumer Product Safety Commission would have a field day, too. You think the Iron Throne is bad, the bassinets in the Seven Kingdoms are probably made out of old razor blades and hypodermic needles.
Still, I love visiting. The show gives me a sense of perspective. Things are bad in America now — climate change, political unrest, pandemic, a vast wealth gap — but at least people aren’t being flambéed by dragons. Yet!
These days, I find myself watching a lot of escapist television. I haven’t yet had time for the new J.R.R. Tolkien “Rings of Power” show on Amazon Prime. It seems to occupy a similar niche as “House of the Dragon.” I’m hoping the two programs will do a crossover episode. With their blond wigs, half the cast of “House of the Dragon” already looks like elves. (Oh, and by the way, Amazon founder Jeff Bezos owns The Washington Post.)
I’ve lost track of all the streaming services I subscribe to. Too many, probably. I have at least three that specialize in British shows: BritBox, Acorn and one from PBS that’s heavy on “Masterpiece Theatre.” Then there’s Apple TV Plus, Hulu, Amazon Prime and Netflix.
This can’t be sustainable, can it? And the other day I was looking at my Netflix subscription and noticed with horror that I’ve been paying 10 bucks a month for DVD rental. I haven’t watched a Netflix DVD for two years. I canceled that right quick.
All those services — all those shows — and when we plop down in front of the idiot box it still takes us 20 minutes to decide what to watch.
We like foreign shows — German ones about the Cold War are a current infatuation — but if we’re eating in front of the TV we don’t want anything with subtitles. (I don’t want to miss any dialogue while I’m looking down at my plate for another forkful of grub.)
There are only so many prestige miniseries we can follow at a time. I can’t remember the names of all my cousins let alone the names and backstories of all the characters in yet another dystopian sci-fi program. We have to finish the previous dystopian sci-fi program before launching into the next one.
And, of course, there’s mood. Do we want something that will help us relax or that will key us up? Do we want thoughts provoked or thoughts blunted? Do we want to laugh or do we want to cry? Do we want brief violence, no violence or excessive, gratuitous violence? Do we want a heapin’ helpin’ of nudity or do we want people to just keep their clothes on for once?
Or do we want baseball? Even that’s gotten complicated. The other day I wanted to watch a baseball game and it was on YouTube. Is that allowed?
You know, maybe I should just read a book.
