The answer to the question posed by this week’s episode of True Blood—“If You Love Me, Why Am I Dyin’?”—can be answered quite easily: There’s a serious hygiene problem going on with the people of Bon Temps.
Now let’s, for a moment, disregard the fact that, like many neurotic New Yorkers, I’d much prefer to walk around in a vat of Purell than run the risk of coming within literal and figurative spitting distance of another person during cold and flu season. And let’s also discount my watching episodes of Obsessed with admiration for the participants’ self-control. Even if we take those mild quirks out of the recapping equation, these people are giving new meaning to “unwashed masses.”
Just what Bon Temps needs. Another dumb blonde.
Exhibit A:
Eric, still mysteriously shirtless, is found and brought home by Sookie. We find that he’s also mysteriously barefoot, and his slim, pale, Scandinavian boats are completely obscured by the caked-on mud he’s collected while dizzily walking along the side of the road and running through the forest. Ticks live in the forest. So do bears, wolves, and in these mystical parts, shape shifters, werewolves, werepanthers and all manner of were_____s that all sh*t in the woods. This is unsanitary by any stretch of the imagination.
Exhibit B:
Jesus (not the son of God, the other one) is clearly finishing up urinating before joining Tara and Lafayette for cocktails on the lanai. Does Jesus wash his hands? Nope, but he does proceed to touch his boyfriend as well as various bottles and pieces of tableware. And let’s not forget that the man is a friggin’ nurse! If this is the example healthcare professionals are setting for their community, it’s no wonder this show is filled with people suffering from the ravages of Mountain Dew mouth.
The Republicans were right. You should never be nice to poor people.
Exhibit C:
We’re treated to a scene in which we watch werepanthers sitting around a campfire trading stories about Ghost Daddies and Ghost Mommies and the awesome power of nature. Apparently they prefer eating raw meat to s’mores during campouts, which cannot be good for anyone’s digestive systems. Back in the shed, Jason’s still bound and wounded. Only, instead of being carefully tended to with Bactine-soaked gauze, his open wounds are being packed with mud. Packed with mud and applied by an illiterate redneck werepanther who’s probably her own aunt. Later, Crystal tricks Jason into thinking she’s giving him medicine, but later admits that it’s Mexican Viagra. Could be worse, right? Right, because Jason, passed out from pain, wakes up to discover he’s the new ride at the hillbilly carnival, with at least five or six gals waiting for a turn to engage in unprotected werepanther-on-pretty boy sex. One can only hope that Planned Parenthood still has funding for outreach in Bon Temps.
Exhibit D:
Aunt Petunia calls upon Voldemort to fill her up and make her a vessel or something equally as euphemistic. As part of the ritual, she cuts her arm up with Godric Gryffindor’s sword, and fills one of Beedle the Bard’s chalices with her blood. At no time did Aunt Petunia take an alcohol swab to her arm to disinfect the area, nor did she sanitize the blade. No wonder she always sounds like she has a cold.
Exhibit E:
Rather than cuddling up in a Snuggie on the couch, Hoyt finds comfort by hugging a dirty doll while watching television. You might remember that doll from such floors as Bill’s pre-renovated home from last season. Gross. Oh, but then we learn that even though the doll was thrown in the river (in which all manner of fish, reptile and shapeshifters are wallowing), it has mysteriously returned and winds up on Hoyt and Jessica’s bed. I neither heard the sheets hitting the spin cycle in the washer/dryer, nor did I see the packaging from a bed-in-a-bag set, so one can only assume that Hoyt’s been sleeping in sheets with a swamp slime wet spot. Now, I’ll give you that Jessica’s already dead, so a little e Coli probably won’t matter, and Hoyt won’t remember snuggling with the doll once Jessica’s done Zatanna mind-wiping him. Finally, Jessica gives the doll to Arlene‘s/Rosemary’s baby and actually uses its filthiness as a selling point! And they agree!! What the hell is wrong with these people? Bet the kid didn’t even get immunized. Poor thing’s gonna get polio in a few seasons.
He’s done this before.
Exhibit F:
Before needlessly picking a fight with Sam, good ol’ Andy takes some V while sitting in his police cruiser. Well, “taking some V” is a little mild for the job he performs getting every last drop off of his finger. I guess V’s better when you fellate it off your finger. I’m not begrudging anyone their lack of a gag reflex, but what are the chances Andy used soap and water before going to town on Righty? Slim to none, I’d bet.
These people are disgusting. It’s a miracle they’re not all suffering from H1N1.
“I’m just as surprised as you are that I’m wearing a shirt.”
And speaking of miracles: Alcide is back! He’s living in a model home in Shreveport with that werebitch Debbie, the one who tried to kill Sookie last year. Not to worry, though, Deb’s 12-stepping it and makes amends with Sookie. She also makes some appetizers. Which is, I think, the step between making amends and making reparations. Sadly, Alcide managed to remain fully clothed the entire time. Dang.
God, who writes this crap? Oh.
One final thing to note: In the final scene, Sookie is up, late at night, reading in the kitchen. Either she’s worried about Eric or just waiting for Blanche and Dorothy to join her before breaking out the cheesecake. Regardless, she’s reading a Charlaine Harris novel, which I think is a pretty clever way for the producers to go a little meta. However, it does not make up for the producers trying to go a little Lucas and insert something into a past scene that never happened. Turns out Sookie’s fairy godmother was in the woods, giving Sookie some of her energy during her altercation with rednecks waaaaaaay back in the first episodes of Season 1. Now I’ll try to defend retrofitting Jabba the Hut into Episode 4, and I’ll shake my head in benign surrender as Hayden Christensen smiles alongside Obi Wan and Yoda, as Ewoks cavort around them, but this is ridiculous. What’s next, a different camera angle in which we discover Alcide’s been shirtless in every scene in every episode of Entourage? Well, umm…okay.
Robb Pearlman is the author of the Spoiler Alert: Bruce Willis is Dead and 399 More Endings from Movies, TV, Books, and Life, coming this November, as well as The Q Guide to Sex and the City and upcoming adaptations of Alice in Wonderland and Winnie the Pooh. He is an editor of pop culture and entertainment titles, including the upcoming The Joker and The Syfy Book of SciFi. Robb is known by name in comic book stores in such wide ranging locales as New York, Gotham City, Brigadoon and Alderaan. An only child in constant need of validation, he promises to accept your Facebook friend request.
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The answer to the question posed by this week’s episode of True Blood—“If You Love Me, Why Am I Dyin’?”—can be answered quite easily: There’s a serious hygiene problem going on with the people of Bon Temps.
Now let’s, for a moment, disregard the fact that, like many neurotic New Yorkers, I’d much prefer to walk around in a vat of Purell than run the risk of coming within literal and figurative spitting distance of another person during cold and flu season. And let’s also discount my watching episodes of Obsessed with admiration for the participants’ self-control. Even if we take those mild quirks out of the recapping equation, these people are giving new meaning to “unwashed masses.”
Just what Bon Temps needs. Another dumb blonde.
Exhibit A:
Eric, still mysteriously shirtless, is found and brought home by Sookie. We find that he’s also mysteriously barefoot, and his slim, pale, Scandinavian boats are completely obscured by the caked-on mud he’s collected while dizzily walking along the side of the road and running through the forest. Ticks live in the forest. So do bears, wolves, and in these mystical parts, shape shifters, werewolves, werepanthers and all manner of were_____s that all sh*t in the woods. This is unsanitary by any stretch of the imagination.
Exhibit B:
Jesus (not the son of God, the other one) is clearly finishing up urinating before joining Tara and Lafayette for cocktails on the lanai. Does Jesus wash his hands? Nope, but he does proceed to touch his boyfriend as well as various bottles and pieces of tableware. And let’s not forget that the man is a friggin’ nurse! If this is the example healthcare professionals are setting for their community, it’s no wonder this show is filled with people suffering from the ravages of Mountain Dew mouth.
The Republicans were right. You should never be nice to poor people.
Exhibit C:
We’re treated to a scene in which we watch werepanthers sitting around a campfire trading stories about Ghost Daddies and Ghost Mommies and the awesome power of nature. Apparently they prefer eating raw meat to s’mores during campouts, which cannot be good for anyone’s digestive systems. Back in the shed, Jason’s still bound and wounded. Only, instead of being carefully tended to with Bactine-soaked gauze, his open wounds are being packed with mud. Packed with mud and applied by an illiterate redneck werepanther who’s probably her own aunt. Later, Crystal tricks Jason into thinking she’s giving him medicine, but later admits that it’s Mexican Viagra. Could be worse, right? Right, because Jason, passed out from pain, wakes up to discover he’s the new ride at the hillbilly carnival, with at least five or six gals waiting for a turn to engage in unprotected werepanther-on-pretty boy sex. One can only hope that Planned Parenthood still has funding for outreach in Bon Temps.
Exhibit D:
Aunt Petunia calls upon Voldemort to fill her up and make her a vessel or something equally as euphemistic. As part of the ritual, she cuts her arm up with Godric Gryffindor’s sword, and fills one of Beedle the Bard’s chalices with her blood. At no time did Aunt Petunia take an alcohol swab to her arm to disinfect the area, nor did she sanitize the blade. No wonder she always sounds like she has a cold.
Exhibit E:
Rather than cuddling up in a Snuggie on the couch, Hoyt finds comfort by hugging a dirty doll while watching television. You might remember that doll from such floors as Bill’s pre-renovated home from last season. Gross. Oh, but then we learn that even though the doll was thrown in the river (in which all manner of fish, reptile and shapeshifters are wallowing), it has mysteriously returned and winds up on Hoyt and Jessica’s bed. I neither heard the sheets hitting the spin cycle in the washer/dryer, nor did I see the packaging from a bed-in-a-bag set, so one can only assume that Hoyt’s been sleeping in sheets with a swamp slime wet spot. Now, I’ll give you that Jessica’s already dead, so a little e Coli probably won’t matter, and Hoyt won’t remember snuggling with the doll once Jessica’s done Zatanna mind-wiping him. Finally, Jessica gives the doll to Arlene‘s/Rosemary’s baby and actually uses its filthiness as a selling point! And they agree!! What the hell is wrong with these people? Bet the kid didn’t even get immunized. Poor thing’s gonna get polio in a few seasons.
He’s done this before.
Exhibit F:
Before needlessly picking a fight with Sam, good ol’ Andy takes some V while sitting in his police cruiser. Well, “taking some V” is a little mild for the job he performs getting every last drop off of his finger. I guess V’s better when you fellate it off your finger. I’m not begrudging anyone their lack of a gag reflex, but what are the chances Andy used soap and water before going to town on Righty? Slim to none, I’d bet.
These people are disgusting. It’s a miracle they’re not all suffering from H1N1.
“I’m just as surprised as you are that I’m wearing a shirt.”
And speaking of miracles: Alcide is back! He’s living in a model home in Shreveport with that werebitch Debbie, the one who tried to kill Sookie last year. Not to worry, though, Deb’s 12-stepping it and makes amends with Sookie. She also makes some appetizers. Which is, I think, the step between making amends and making reparations. Sadly, Alcide managed to remain fully clothed the entire time. Dang.
God, who writes this crap? Oh.
One final thing to note: In the final scene, Sookie is up, late at night, reading in the kitchen. Either she’s worried about Eric or just waiting for Blanche and Dorothy to join her before breaking out the cheesecake. Regardless, she’s reading a Charlaine Harris novel, which I think is a pretty clever way for the producers to go a little meta. However, it does not make up for the producers trying to go a little Lucas and insert something into a past scene that never happened. Turns out Sookie’s fairy godmother was in the woods, giving Sookie some of her energy during her altercation with rednecks waaaaaaay back in the first episodes of Season 1. Now I’ll try to defend retrofitting Jabba the Hut into Episode 4, and I’ll shake my head in benign surrender as Hayden Christensen smiles alongside Obi Wan and Yoda, as Ewoks cavort around them, but this is ridiculous. What’s next, a different camera angle in which we discover Alcide’s been shirtless in every scene in every episode of Entourage? Well, umm…okay.
Robb Pearlman is the author of the Spoiler Alert: Bruce Willis is Dead and 399 More Endings from Movies, TV, Books, and Life, coming this November, as well as The Q Guide to Sex and the City and upcoming adaptations of Alice in Wonderland and Winnie the Pooh. He is an editor of pop culture and entertainment titles, including the upcoming The Joker and The Syfy Book of SciFi. Robb is known by name in comic book stores in such wide ranging locales as New York, Gotham City, Brigadoon and Alderaan. An only child in constant need of validation, he promises to accept your Facebook friend request.
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