5.19.04: A Bèka Segge Alatt! ‹ Blog

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Kahlil Gibran

A Beka Segga Alatt!

5.19.04

There is only one smiley in existence that can express my emotions at this moment, and it is this one: >:-(=

See, the > represents the angry downturned parabola of my eyebrows, and the :-( is my unhappy frowny face, and the = are my plastic vampire fangs, which I am wearing in solidarity with my fangèd brethren on Angel: the Series, which has been cancelled—hence, you see, the frowny face, which you may or may not remember as looking like this :-( .

There are no words to express the extent of my present disgruntlement. Well, there are some words, but they’re in Hungarian, so you probably won’t be able to sympathise when I say Rohadj meg! Hogy csapna beléd az Isten nyila! Lófasz a valagadba, szarházi! to whatever handful of morons decided it would be a good idea to cancel a series as innovative and brilliant as Angel. Cancelling Angel is like having a kid, raising the child into a beautiful and talented young adult who’s certain to get into Harvard on a full scholarship and then become a multimillionaire bioscientist who models on the side, and then taking the kid on a trip to San Francisco and pushing them off the Golden Gate Bridge. It makes no sense. It’s a total waste.

And, if you’ll allow me to take the “brilliant child” analogy a step further (which you’ll bloody well have to, because this is my journal and I’m the one writing it), cancelling Angel is on par with having two brilliant kids—let’s call them “Buffy” and “Angel”—who have mind-boggling potential, and then one of the kids drops dead and you’re left with the other kid. Okay, so maybe you were so dazzled by Buffy and her ratings—I mean, her brains—that you never saw Angel’s true worth. But Angel was always brilliant and witty and fun, you just never saw it. Now that he’s out of his big sister’s shadow, Angel can finally blossom and his true genius can—wait, what are you doing with that gun? Put that down—no, don’t pull the *BANG* You monster! How could you?! He was all you had left! He was so young! He had so much to live for! Oh, the humanity!

Ahem. Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away there.

The point is, Angel was a good show, and good shows shouldn’t be cancelled. But even more importantly, Angel was the last television link to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Why, when Buffy has just recently ended and the show’s insatiable hordes of fans are all finally coming together to boost Angel’s ratings and get their weekly vampire fix, would the WB go ahead and cancel the show? What were they thinking? Are they on crack? If they are, they should start buying from a different dealer, because they obviously got a bad batch. Good crack wouldn’t make you want to cancel a good show, and I know that for a fact because—um. Ahem. Let’s move on.

I watched the series finale tonight, and it was so brilliant it made my teeth hurt. Wait, no—my Pepsi made my teeth hurt. But the finale was still brilliant. I might have to have a few words with Joss Whedon about the ending, though—indecisivity (that’s a new word I just made up) is good and all, but did he really have to leave it dangling like a piece of used, bloody dental floss? How will it all end? Will Angel kill the dragon? Will Gunn die? What happened to that baby Spike was supposed to save? And how is Illyria going to get a decent job if she insists upon keeping her forehead that funky blue color? People don’t like blue-stockings, hon, and you don’t wanna know how they feel about blue-foreheads.

One fight scene reminded me of The Matrix: Revolutions—both scenes involve our hero fighting a solid, suited man who seems to feel no pain, both involve our hero getting thrown around like a used dishrag, both involve our hero and the suit-man musing on motivations and futility in between trying to knock each other’s teeth out one by one. The only difference was that in Revolutions Smith is the one making the observations on mortality and human emotion while he wipes the town with Neo’s ass, while in Angel it’s Angel himself who tells the suit-man that “the people who don’t care about anything will never understand the people who do,” to which the suit-man replies, “Yeah, but we won’t care.”

That exchange aptly sums up the relationship between the fans of this show and the dingbats who cancelled it. They’ll never understand us, because we care about this show. We tried to get that brilliant, promising kid out of the way of his psycho, gun-toting parent, but we weren’t fast enough, and the gun-toting parent wasn’t listening to us anyway. And now we’re left with a handful of DVDs and a few screen caps, the mortal traces of what might have been.

Baszd meg az anyádat, morons of the WB. And you can quote me on that.