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The Wire (on HBO, currently on Season Five, the final season)is a really good show. An amazing show. The greatest show that has ever existed. It’s awe inspiringly awesome. If you don’t believe me you can just ask me. I should try to tell you why the Wire is the best thing that has ever been created in 36 sentences or less:
Even the most secondary characters on the Wire are more adeptly developed than the main character from your favorite television show. Test it. Brenda Leigh Johnson, a disingenuous southern belle with some quirky junk food preoccupation versus Wee Bey. You lose Deputy Johnson.
Tony Soprano versus Brother Mouzone.
McCoy versus Prop Joe.
Grace versus Horseface.
Jack and Sawyer versus Namond’s Mom.
The whole cast of Friend’s versus Colicchio. You girls couldn’t possibly afford to live in New York and Colicchio is going to fuck you and your metrosexual buddies’ asses up.
Everyone has a little Jimmy McNaulty in them.
Rather than being asked to study and regurgitate the basic tenants of Smith, Marx, Weber, Wallerstein, & Baudrillard’s theories you could just watch the Wire and save yourself about $20,000 in college tuition.
Watch Landsman eat Arby’s and flip through skin mags.
The camera momentarily catching Rawls in one of the most unexpected of places.
Bunk can’t hold his liquor.
The meeting of minds that takes place as Snoop tries to navigate through her nail gun choices at a quasi Home Depot.
Who hasn’t known someone like Ziggy?
Clay Davis’s pronunciation of the longest word in the English language, Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
Freamon’s understated creepiness.
Templeton being full of shit and Gus knowing it.
The amount of information conveyed in any one scene. Having worked with neglected, abused, and emotionally disturbed youth, the scene where the girl gets her cheek cut in Prez’s class readily comes to mind as an example of this. In that one scene the frustration, hopelessness, and confusion that seems to be inextricably tied to such living situations is brilliantly conveyed through an explosion of rage and its aftermath. The attacker staring blankly forward, numb to her feelings and unable to process what she’s just done. Duquan’s inherent understanding as he tries to fan her. Michael’s stoic indifference as he watches the incident unfold.
Omar. Omar whistling. Omar smoking cigarettes. Omar eating Honey Nut Cheerios. Omar tongue kissing Brandon. Omar looking for revenge. Omar getting lectured by Bunk. Omar testifying as to why he’s no more of a parasite than Levy. Omar walking around like King Shit of Fuck Mountain. Omar fucking Little!
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