The ending of this second season of Good Omens feels sad. It is sad.
It's important that it's sad.
We talk a lot about how fiction can be used for escapism. And that's true. We like the idea that there can be a better world.
But sometimes, I think, we decide too early when that "better world" should kick in.
Yes, I'm sure it would be lovely if Crowley kissed Aziraphale and that solved everything. That's a beautiful fantasy to live in.
It's not common, though. It's a fantasy you're never likely to find in real life, and searching for it might close off any of the thousand more likely scenarios.
John Finnemore, who co-wrote this season, also wrote a BBC radio comedy called Cabin Pressure. And in it, he had a character describe the problem of defining perfect happiness:
ARTHUR: I’m fairly often just completely happy. Like, for instance, when you get into a bath quickly and it’s just the right temperature, and you go … (blissfully) … “Ohhhh!” I mean, no-one really gets any happier than that.
MARTIN: What a depressing thought.
ARTHUR: No! No, it’s not, though! Because those sort of things happen all the time, whereas you’re hardly ever – you know – blissfully happy with the love of your life in the moonlight; and when you are, you’re too busy worrying about it being over soon. Whereas the bath moments – there’s loads of those!
Here's the thing: It's more likely, I think, that you and I live in a world where heartbreaking things happen quite often. We hardly ever get to kiss our soulmate in a dramatic revelation of our true and earth-shatteringly reciprocated love; but oh, stumbling, trying a thing only to have it blow up, believing we've found happiness only to find that it's a fragile, easily lost thing whether we put the work in or not?
There's loads of those.
And yes, it's awful. And it happens in real life so very often that it can be easy to believe that the "escape" to find in fiction is that it never happens at all.
But that's not the only fantasy we can have. It may not even be the best one.
I like the fantasy where all the awful things happen. Where these characters go through the same things humans do. Where it's not perfect. Where it hurts to try and keep going.
Because in that fantasy... the characters survive it. They make it to the other side. They find love anyway.
You and I-- we will experience terrible things. Over and over. Heartbreak will come a thousand times over. But in my fantasy, in my escapist fiction, I can see--
These characters are hurt, like I am hurt. But they keep going. And someday, it will be all right again.
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The desire to fuck you turns me on so much
Whoop, another confession!
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I must sleep. Sleep is the mind-healer. Sleep is the big-life that brings total ability to fucking do anything. I will face my bed. I will permit the blankie to pass over me and snores to pass through me. And when sleep has gone past I will turn the outer eye to greet the new morning. When the sleep has gone there will be everything. Energy and will to live will remain.
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Sometimes I wish we would start calling out the performative radicalism on this site for the poser bullshit it is. "Remember, it's always morally correct to kill a cop!" "Don't forget to firebomb your local government office!" "Wow, it sure would be a shame if these instructions on how to make a molotov cocktail got spread around!"
Okay. But you're not killing cops or firebombing government offices. You are posting on a dying microblogging website to a carefully-curated echo chamber that has radicalized itself into thinking that taking the absolute most extreme position on any subject is praxis but that anyone discussing the most practical way to effect actual change is your sworn enemy. You do not have the street cred OR the activist cred to be talking about killing cops, babe.
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"fuck it we ball" is for stress about the future "it is what it is" is for stress about the past and "this too shall pass" is for stress about the present thank you for coming to my TED talk
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