F#ck You, Carl: My Walking Dead Diary

For four years I've resisted The Walking Dead--mostly because I thought it looked so stupid. But, not unlike that time when (redacted: anonymity) talked me into drinking four Fruit Punch Special Brews in high school, I caved. 

If only the similarities had stopped there. While TWD doesn't make my stomach hurt because who the f#ck mixes that much sugar with alcohol, it does make my stomach hurt because who the f#ck keeps letting Carl get out of the house. 

Anyway, I intended to do this post as another entry in the Smart Guy, Blogger: A Conversation series, but my smart friend with whom I was texting was smart enough to stay out of this one. Instead, please find below a series of transcribed text messages I just kept sending him and sending him even though he was asleep. 

Monday 1:26 AM

I'm gonna do this like Breaking Bad. I'm binge-watching The Walking Dead. Episode 6 Report: I don't like any of these people except Hot-headed Redneck. He's the only character so far that's believable as a human being. 

Monday 3:04 AM

They've just gone in to the CDC and the guy from Truman Show/The Americans just showed them the brain functioning and all that. Then they started handing him shit like he was the one who invented zombies and this was all his fault. It's like "Hey, fuck you guys. You're welcome for the booze and food and hot water and shelter from the zombies who were about to eat you." Ingrates.

Monday 4:20 AM

Also, just run. Zombies aren't fast. Also, napalm. We still have literally thousands of warships and aircraft carriers and submarines. Also, what kind of a shitty name is Carl for a kid? Every time they say his name I think they're talking about some middle manager from IT. 

SMART FRIEND, Monday, Reasonable Hour: Ha! Spoiler Alert: If you're watching for storylines, characters, etc. you're going to be disappointed. It's all about the carnage. Think about it like a Van Damme movie or something from (redacted: anonymity)'s Top 10 Movies of All-time. Much more enjoyable. 

Monday 3:48 PM

Yeah, but Walking Dead is taking itself seriously. I can watch Expendables and know they're not asking me to invest in plot/characters. They just want me to enjoy the circus. Walking Dead wants me to care about the characters, yet not one of them is believable besides Crossbow. Not Angry Blonde and definitely not Wizened Old Man with Bucket Hat whose only role seems to be waxing lyrical about the virtues of not making hasty decisions in a world where he lives in a Winnebago now because of the Zombie Insurrection. It's like what I imagine being friends with Shakespeare or Socrates was like minus the profundity. 

Director's Commentary: At this point, I wasn't being cute by calling these people Crossbow or Angry Blonde. I truly had no idea what their names were because why would I? 

Monday 4:58 PM

SMART FRIEND: Ha! I liked the first season and a half. Eventually, they get to a farm and that season sucks. Then it gets better again. Up and down from there. 

Monday 7:34 PM

I'm at the farm now. I feel like they (the showrunners) are just concocting series of events in place of establishing any sort of plot. It feels rudderless. Also, too much about the kids. They should be scenery, like trees or rocks--there just to add some realism--definitely not driving the story. 

Tuesday 11:07 PM

They're at Public Works now, letting that guy from Boardwalk Empire go and Rick and Shane got in a fight. Then zombies, etc. 

Now Rick is on the ground with zombies on top of him and Zombie 3 keeps slapping the gun away(!). 

Which is the Walking Dead writers saying, "Hey, fuck you, America! This zombie knows what a gun does!" 

I'm sorry, with self-awareness (or any other kind of awareness) like that, he would be KING OF THE FUCKING ZOMBIES. 

Tuesday 1:35 AM

I fucking hate Carl.

There, I said it

Tuesday 2:34 AM

They've had two characters named Jimmy now. 

I mean

Tuesday 3:08 AM


Soft piano music plays while Rick hands his 12 y/o son, Carl, now fully recovered from a gutshot wound sustained from at least .243 caliber rifle (which, depending on how you're gauging the passage of time happened either A) six months ago or B) last Tuesday. If you're judging by the changing of the seasons, it's A. If you're judging by how pregnant Lori still isn't, B), a loaded Beretta, which Carl stole from Darryl in the first place. "Dale's death wasn't your fault," says Rick. 


Tuesday 3:40 AM

(Season 2 Ep. 12) Carl's inexplicably loose again. 

Okay, he just took down Zombie Shane who became a zombie despite death by stabbing, not zombie bite. (Sorry for all the texts, but this is going to be my Walking Dead Diary for the site). 

I don't even know what to say. How? Not because the explanation matters as far as plot holes go (I'm well past that) but because I can't wait to hate how deliciously cheap it will be. 

This show is now in rarefied air. Along with Homeland, it's easily one of the worst shows I've ever kept watching with no intention of stopping (see also: Entourage)


That's it for the night. Don't worry, this will be my new after hours feature: Netflix Confidential where I keep a diary of my thoughts while I'm binge-watching. See you tomorrow.