SPOILERS, yada yada, but probably not really, but you know, I feel compelled to say this. Spoiler alert.
There you have it.
The Walking Dead, Season 5, Episode 7. I’m using other people’s images instead of my fancy “pause and take a picture of the TV” method. Because I feel like it today. And I found one truly fantastic series of images regarding this episode which I need to share. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so…on to the bloggery.
First: I am preparing for Carol‘s death. I’m not happy about it. I don’t like the thought even a little. But she has, kind of, become The Terminator and I suppose her story line is running a little dry. She’s in hospital right now with the Beth captor people (do they have a name? The Dawnians? I mean, “The Grady Memorial Hospital Totalitarians” is such a mouthful….) and Rick Nation is trying to bust her out. I think they’ll get her so far out of there, there will be no coming back.
If I were asked to summarize this episode in one sentence, I would say this was the episode wherein people do inexplicable things.
Rick Nation goes to Atlanta on a rescue mission to retrieve Beth and #TeamCarol, which is fine and totally makes sense. But. One would think, in the immediate days after Terminus, this group (who BARELY escaped with their lives) would be inclined to shoot first and ask questions never. I mean, the guy who lived there and is providing inside information is inclined to think an assault will work better. But instead… Fine, Tyreese. I get that he’s all “no, we can be all Zen and groovy, we don’t have to shed blood, we can just create a hostage crisis and make trades.”
Which, you know. OK, FIIIIIIIIINE, Tyreese. But then the Dawnians showed that they were determined to fight. What’s a backwoods country boy like Daryl Dixon to do when his opponent starts shooting/swinging/trying to stuff your head into a melty, napalmed zombie’s mouth?
Well, of course Daryl–DARYL, the man who had to be held back from running out into the street to stomp the faces off the men who hit Carol with their car, yes, that guy–started reasoning with Rick to not kill the man who just tried to kill him.
I can understand wanting to be a monk in the zombie apocalypse. I can understand there must be an amazing sort of emotional exhaustion that comes with constantly poking holes in living and/or formerly living things. I just don’t think the characters have expressed a solid understanding that now is not the time for emotional latitude. Or lenience.
A genius–GENIUS, I TELL YOU–apparently saw the same WTFery I did with this decision-making process and…well, I don’t know if he created this, but he posted it. Behold, a summary of this The Walking Dead plot point:
So they took hostages. And trusted the one seemingly reasonable person they encountered and…wait a second. Wasn’t it Rick who said, in a previous episode (and I quote):
I need you to hear what I’m about to say. You. Are not safe. No matter how many people are around, or how clear the area looks, no matter what anyone says, no matter what you think. You are not safe. It only takes one second, one second, and it’s over. Never let your guard down. Never.
Unless, of course, it’s this cop guy from the enemy camp, the place you know is holding your friends, who maintains a position of abusive power. No, go ahead, hang on his every word, because he’s certainly going to give you the straight dope.
I can almost forgive Sasha for letting her guard down around the cop (conveniently, named Bob) because she’s an emotional wreck right now, but then again…THIS IS THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. You don’t have the luxury to succumb to emotional feelies. Get over yourself.
And…Father Gabriel…WHAT. In the hell. He can’t handle being around the merciless undead, he doesn’t know the first thing about fighting back against them. He throws up when he’s face to face with a walker, or squinches his eyes and waits for a zombie to tear into him. He kind of sounds like this in the presence of anything even the least bit unsavory.
And yet, he thought it would be a good idea to…dig himself out of the church through the floorboards and dash out into the Georgia wilderness? WHAT.
It kind of served him right to find the remains of Bob‘s half-eaten leg, still on the grate over the fire. Take THAT, Mr. Poorly-Formed Escape Plan!
Though in all seriousness, I think the good…bad…inexplicable Father is screwed since stepping on that nail.
As for Abe Ford & Co., they were the only ones whose actions made even the slightest sense. Abe is kind of losing his mind since Eugene told him he wasn’t the Savior of the World. Abe is a mess, and Eugene is a drooling mess, and the rest of the group are defensive messes, but you know, at least they’re understandable.
Next week: mid-season finale! I will prepare myself to bid Carol adieu, no matter how much it hurts.