Sunday Methadone Preview – True Detective Returns!

Good weekend, ladies (yes, PLURAL!!) and gentlemen of DFO.  I write you from the barren hellscape that is North Carolina in the summertime, when I go from “normal recluse” to “mega recluse” mode.  The heat index is goddamned 108 today, and it’s not even summer yet.  FUCK YOU, outside world.

Being of reclusive nature, and hostile to most forms of human interaction, I enjoy books and television.  On this front, summer is also sorely lacking.  I count on f/x to provide me with entertainment that activates my remaining neurons that haven’t been killed with liquor and drugs…and they give us “Tyrant.”  Yes, they brought that flaming bag of monkeyshit back for a second season.  A show so bad that CBS would be ashamed to air it.  Bazinga.

But all is not lost, and for that I thank one Nic Pizzolatto.  Most of you surely came on board for Season One of the masterful 8-episode arc Pizzolatto created for Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey.    Episodes 4 and 5 were perhaps the most suspenseful pieces of dramatic television ever created.  True Detective left the viewer breathless, mind racing, eager for the next week’s installment.  I still don’t understand how anyone could watch live, and go to sleep immediately afterwards.  Watching over coffee after getting the kids off to school, then being worthless at the office (hey, what else is new) was the only way to go for me.

What else to love about Pizzolatto?  He’s a dark-minded Southerner, who sees the world as a lost and brutal place.  I can dig it!  To really get a feel for his artistic sensibilities, you need to read his richly textured, bleak-as-fuck novel “Galveston.”  The beer can men make a cameo!  I found it at my local library, but it’s worth buying on Amazon if it’s not at yours, or if you are just lazy.  Should you enjoy bleak rural Southern character writing like this, I equally and highly recommend the works of Daniel Woodrell.

Sorry, I am taking WAY too long to get to my point.  Without football (or the better methadone of college basketball that gets me through the winter and early spring), summer weekends, and particularly Sundays, are really depressing.  But the clinic window is opening!  True Detective is back for Season Two this Sunday night, with a completely new cast, plot, and location.  In honor of DFO’s launch, Pizzolatto leaves his geographical comfort zone and takes his series to California.  I’m such a believer in his genius that I don’t worry how he will manage to make me not just want to punch Vince Vaughn and Colin Farrell in the face for 60-ish minutes each week.  On the other hand, I am really excited to see Rachel McAdams – and not (just) in a lecherous way.  I’ve always thought she could really shine if given a weightier, darker acting role, and Pizzolatto is giving her the chance to prove it.

I apologize for being too stupid/lazy to post a gif of Alexandra Daddario’s boobs, or Woody Harrelson diving face first into her lovely derriere.  But you remember those precious moments.  And in closing, I maintain that Ms. Daddario’s “Oh my God, the President has seen my boobs” declaration remains (and will likely always remain) the one and only good use of Twitter in the history of mankind.