Paperblog A Brie Grows in Brooklyn

A Brie Grows in Brooklyn

"Mabel's not crazy... she's unusual."

Boardwalk Empire: The Season 2 Finale

I just read that Boardwalk Empire was given an early renewal for a third season, which shocks me because last night’s season 2 finale felt much more like a series ender than a cliffhanger. I’m super sick with the flu, so forgive me in advance if I sound like Roger Ebert. I’m pretty sure this is one of the worst things I’ve ever written.

The writers basically threw everyone on the cast a bone. First, they doled spoils to the minor characters. Rothstein, who is one of my favorites, got a few minutes of airtime to start what one can only assume will be a shockingly lucrative heroin business with Lucky Luciano and his squirrely-faced Jewish partner. Chalky White finally got even with the Klu Klux Klan after a season of begging Nucky Thompson for revenge. Detective Van Alden, who has rendered himself irrelevant, goes to live in a new apartment, somewhere far from Atlantic City, with his daughter and her pretty little nanny—who assumedly he marries? Who cares.

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I Live In The Golden Age

Basically the only exciting thing to happen in the entirety of Season 2 on Boardwalk Empire just went down, and all that I have to say about it is…how long does it take people to realize that you can’t fuck with Germans?

The show is really only good, but goddamn, the sets are so fucking pitch perfect. I seriously can’t believe that they were able to gather so many beautiful objects, and get them all in these old buildings that I never, in a million years, would have guessed still existed. It must have cost them a billion dollars. What they saved in screen writers, they put into sphinx headed armrests, and carved wood headboards, and crystal tumblers, and views of the ocean.

I want all of it, I want it to be my world.

I was born in the wrong fucking era. I’m into opulence. I’m into brass fixtures. I’m into hard-backed silk-upholstered love seats. I’m into tasseled parasols. I’m into teardrop shaped pearls. I’m into embroidered fur coats. I’m into filigreed lingerie. 

Is it so bad that I’ll kneel by my bed tonight, close my eyes, and say a prayer to some unseen hand-embroidered white cotton pillowcase, if only to be a little closer to the Golden Age?

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Boardwalk Empire: A Character Guide Part I

I was going to write a review of the first Season of Boardwalk Empire, but then I realized it was too daunting a task, especially considering I was stoned almost the entire time I was watching it.

Most of the above sentence isn’t true, but it’s still fucking hilarious. Also some of it is true (the review part).

So instead of doing a review, I decided to write a character guide in case you—for some inexplicable reason—didn’t watch Season 1, but plan on watching Season 2 when it premieres on HBO on September 25. That’s a fucking plug. Give me money HBO.

(Expected click through rate: 0.2%)

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