Another great opening monologue on Sons of Anarchy, this week. Hate is an emotion I struggle with not only in my writing, but in my life. This puts a nice little bow on that fight. (Transcribed by yours truly, so there may be a couple mistakes.)
“It’s hard not to hate. People, things, institutions–when they break your spirit and take pleasure in watching you bleed, hate is the only feeling that makes sense. But I know what hate does to a man. It tears him apart, turns him into something he’s not, something he promised himself he’d never become. That’s what I need to tell you, to let you know how hard I’m trying not to cave under the weight of all the awful things I feel in my heart. Sometimes my life feels like a deadly balancing act–what I feel, slamming up against what I should do. Impulsive reactions racing to solutions miles ahead of my brain. When I look at my day, I realize that most of it was spent cleaning up the damage of the day before. In that life, I have no future, all I have is distraction and remorse. I buried my best friend three days ago. As clichéd as it sounds, I left a part of me in that box. A part I barely knew, a part I’ll never see again. Every day is a new box, boys. You open it and take a look at what’s inside. You’re the one that determines if its a gift or a coffin.”
After weeks of weeping during Sons of Anarchy, I’ve finally had a week where I could laugh and relax a little without wracking my brain to figure out what horrific thing would happen next. Unfortunately, this is only the eye of the storm known as Pope. Eventually things will come back around and the MC will be forced to calculate an end game as far as that whole deal is concerned.
Oh look, we’ve finally come back around again to the cartel and Irish issue. It’s only taken, what, five or six episodes? The plot for this show is insanely detailed. The creators are obviously doing their damndest to keep it grounded in reality, showing consequences for everything that happens with the guys. But sometimes it pulls from plot lines that’ve been well established. For a moment, I began to think they’d never resolve the dangling Irish problem. Then again, that ties into Clay bouncing back from being shot and gaining physical and political strength.
Jax isn’t sitting on his thumbs. He should be, by all means. As said before in the monologue, he just lost his best friend. Their life, their choices in the last few years robbed Jax of the simple human act of grieving. He’s been forced to bounce back on unsteady legs to outwit and out maneuver not only his own family, but Pope, the cartel, and the Irish as well. He’s one man, missing a chunk of his heart, and despite the internal bleeding, he puts one foot in front of another and keeps pushing forward.
In stark contrast, the women that are supposed to form the backbone of the MC have ground to a halt in their lives. Tara is stuck in a vortex of “poor pitiful me”. She’s allowed her busted hand to take meaning away from her life and who she is as an individual. She is falling for Gemma’s games, as we saw last week. This week, despite what happened, she still went to the woman who consistently tries to ruin her life for comfort. Tara gave up her life because her entire identity was wrapped up in being a surgeon.
Gemma is another bag of worms. She can’t see where she’s failing her family. Her guilt over the past is eating her alive. However, Gemma doesn’t feel guilty about her part in her ex husband’s death. Oh no. Gemma is consumed by guilt because Jax found out the truth, and it was not her version of the truth. Even now, she seems incapable of telling the truth and facing her son. No matter how hard they try, parents cannot whitewash the past and make it all pretty for their children. Eventually the paint peels away, revealing the ugliness underneath–which is even uglier after sitting for years.
Dear Gods down below (That’s you, Mr. Sutter), please, please let us see more of Venus this season. She…he(?) is a breath of sassy fresh air. I could not stop laughing during the scenes with Venus. That belle thinks fast in her pumps and in ways that benefits Samcro. “Well, didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to judge a book by its penis?” Venus is my new role model. Sorry Gemma.
I’m still perplexed by the home-invasion plot line. Eventually it’ll make sense. This is another one of those threads that get brought into the overall design of the show and completely change what’s going on. Oh goodie. I hope this doesn’t require any more Kleenex.