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Morning! I am trying to stave off panic about the fact that I will be in surgery less than 24 hours from now. The surgery itself and potential results aren't actually that scary, but oh god is it calling up all kinds of intense flashbacks and bad memories of that other time. My rational brain can separate them, the rest of me really can't. I will be glad when this is over.

Fair warning, if I can get my netbook to work tomorrow you should probably expect me to be spamming you with narcotic induced blogging of my Haven rewatch from my hospital bed while I am conscious. I bet Nathan's face is even more fascinating while high.

Anyway, random aside, what I have learned from Vividcon this year is two things. One, until I get a much faster computer I refuse to deal with .mkv again. If it's going to a con where it will be seen on a big screen, I will restrict myself to only available on DVD source, and for web release regular download will have to do. I cannot fully emphasize just how much my computer hates me after that. If it rose up and killed me in my sleep I would not be shocked.

The second is that one should always account for extra time padding when working with a deadline because although your schedule looks like it provides ample cushion...sometimes your state catches on fire. I find it ironic that the one time I have a vid nearly done months before it is due, is the only year I have smacked face first into deadline panic on account of natural disaster.

But whatever, Damian Lewis and Claire Danes and their respective FACES will, in fact, be making an appearance at Vividcon. And at some point I want to make a really long blabbery post about Homeland. Hell, I might do it today if I need to hyperfocus on something other than tomorrow.

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Yeah, still freaking out and so I kind of want to talk about Homeland to distract myself. More in generalities than specifics.

Like, okay, I generally do not like Serious Dramas in which the protagonists act in morally dubious/suspect to downright wrong ways. This is not because I am all about the fluffy bunnies (though, as a rule, sparkly fun times make up the bulk of my love). It's more...one of two things ends up happening for me. Either I end up feeling like the narrative is excusing/absolving the wrong...or the characters end up so unlikeable to me that it makes for an unpleasant viewing experience. Or both. It's weirdly worse for me in shows that are actually very good, because I can recognize how smart and well done they are and what quality but I can't stomach the ride. Because it's not that they are objectively doing it wrong...because...

...then along comes a show like Homeland where I end up connecting with the motivations of the characters in question and it gets. Well, about a thousand times both more compelling and disturbing as fuck. Because, I mean, we all like to think that when it comes down to it we'd make the 'right' choices. That there are ideals and morals we would not sacrifice under any circumstances. But what if there were? And what if those circumstances didn't excuse or justify those actions in the broader moral sense, but make sense in that context. And it's a hard clash where the two can't be reconciled. This is the place where, if you can take me there, you've got me as a viewer.

And Homeland does that for me. I can step into either Carrie or Brody's shoes and I can't be sure I would act any differently, that I would make different decisions. Decisions I can understand but not justify. And that is endlessly fascinating and horrifying to me.

Shows like this in general are just all about finding your weak spot, the place where you could crack, I think. And it's not that the other shows don't do that, it's just that they aren't finding my weak spots as well? But this one does. Yipes.

And, the exception to the rule here is over the top action stories with stylized violence, and stock morally gray characters, in which as long as there are enough explosions and a ludicrous body count backed by high octane adrenaline dumps and really pretty people...I am like, morals schmorals, SHOOT HIM AGAIN! And then I dance around my living room doing an imaginary football spike. I don't even know.