#hollywood babylon and my husband is book of the damned

[exxar1]

Chapter 13: Ambassador Kosh, The Smoking Caterpillar, And Six Months Saved

3/16/2021

            One of my favorite sci-fi shows from the 1990s is Babylon-5. It takes place on a space station in neutral territory between various warring alien and human empires in the mid twenty-third century. One of the alien characters, Ambassador Kosh, is fond of asking those around him, “Who are you?” Kosh is a Vorlon, a mysterious, cryptic species who’s true physical nature is hidden from others by an elaborate encounter suit. No one has ever been to their homeworld, and the Vorlons rarely interact with other species around them, so when one asks “Who are you?”, it’s a significant question that implies a need for an honest, significant, soul-searching answer.

           That is a question I’ve been asking myself a lot these past few months. This week is the six month anniversary of my salvation. Looking back, it feels like I’ve crossed a gulf wider and deeper than the Grand Canyon. September 17th seems like almost a lifetime ago. And yet, it also feels like it was just yesterday. So much has changed in my life, and yet so much is still the same.

           The other day I was looking back over my previous log entries from this new journey. The one from October 10th leaped out at me as I reread it:

            “I just recently realized how much we change throughout our adult lives as we get older. Those passions and desires and things that interest us and consume our time when we’re in our twenties are not necessarily the same passions, desires, and things that we care about in our forties, or our fifties, or our sixties. We as people are not just flesh and blood. We are conscious, thinking, emotional, intellectual human beings, and the parts of us that make us who we are are those passions, desires, interests, and things that we care about. It’s what makes me me.

             Some of those qualities can be defined as hobbies or interests, the things that I do in my spare time or what I’m passionate about in life. The fact that I have always been a science fiction fan, for example, or my writing. Other qualities can be emotional, or intellectual, or parts of me that aren’t necessarily physical. The fact that I’m gay, for example; or that I love to read, or that I’m an introvert, or that I once used to be an Atheist.

           In other words, those things that make up who we are as an individual human being, that define us to the world and to other people around us, are not always constant or unchanging. And that’s what I had never realized until now. I have always been happy living my life on my own, by my own terms, and I found peace in being alone. I have never felt the need to have that “special someone” in my life, but now, for reasons I cannot explain, I’m no longer content with that. I think this is why so many people at this point in their mid-lives have a crisis. They buy a new car or get divorced or change careers. Perhaps my loneliness is nothing more than a mid-life crisis?”

           At the time, I was attributing all my recent angst and internal unrest to aging, but now I recognize this for what it really was – and still is: sanctification. (or maybe it’s a little of both.) 2 Corinthians 5:17, one of the first verses that I had memorized long, long ago in Sunday school, says, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” It’s one thing to know about a process, but quite another thing entirely to actually experience that process firsthand.

           Who am I?

           My name is Neal Timothy Jones, I was born on June 4, 1978, I currently weigh 205 lbs., stand at a glorious height of 5’5”, have blue eyes, brown hair – which I’m very slowly but surely losing (more than in the back than the front, I’d say), and a goatee that is now more silver than brown. My favorite color is blue. I’m a brother, a son and an uncle, but not a father or a husband. I was born and raised in Twin Falls, Idaho, and I’m an introvert. I’m often shy, quiet, used to have a hard time speaking up for myself and was afraid to be myself for fear of ridicule and shame. I’m a sci-fi fan (Star Trek in particular) and an avid Super Mario Brothers player. (If that was an Olympic sport I would hold a gold medal for most games conquered and exceptional fire flower skill.) I also read a lot, and, lately, I have a very hard time shutting off my brain. I’m always overthinking, overanalyzing, and overly critical of both myself and those around me.

           My favorite food is Italian, especially pizza and pasta (hence the 205 pounds), and I despise coconut. I mean, like really, really hate it. Whoever decided that shredded coconut should be a topping on desserts should be strung up by their apron strings and crucified in their kitchen. Coconut – especially shredded coconut – has absolutely no taste for one, and for two, it has all the texture of grass. It’s vile and disgusting.

           I have type 2 diabetes, and I’m a good twenty-five pounds overweight. I’ve always hated exercise. Yes, I enjoyed running around the playground and being outdoors in general when I was a kid, but I hated organized sports. I suffered one year of soccer in 7th grade because my parents insisted I needed to get out and do something besides always being alone under a tree with a book in between classes. (I think they were worried about my anti-social behavior far more than they actually let on.) That one year led to a life long revulsion of sports in general. Seriously, I don’t get it. Running up and down a field, chasing a ball or trying to make a goal – *yawn*. So overrated.

           Also, for that matter, is competition. I’m probably the least competitive person anyone knows. I really couldn’t care less whether or not my coworkers beat me in upsells and product promotions. I don’t give a damn if my friends or family make more money than I do. I have no desire to rise the corporate ladder and be king of my local branch. I don’t really care what my house looks like on the outside compared to my neighbors. Nor do I give a rat’s ass if my car is the nicest one in the neighborhood. (And, frankly, given the neighborhood I currently live in, I most definitely do not want a super nice car that would attract nearby thieves.) I really do just march to the beat of my own drum, and if you’d like join me, great! If not, oh well. You do your own thing, and you be you. I’m not going to care one way or the other.

           Who am I?

           I’m gay. Or, rather, I was. Or maybe I still am. I honestly don’t know. And that’s been my problem lately. Clear back in September, right after I was saved, I was sure of two things: one, that I was saved and new child of God, and two, that I was gay. In just six months, though, I’m not so sure of that latter one anymore.

           It’s funny how we sometimes take one thing in our lives – our marriage, our job, our sexuality, or maybe that one hobby or spare time interest – and we build our whole self-identity around that. For me, it was being gay. That was who I was, and I centered my entire self-identity around that one thing as soon as I left high school. After I left the Army, after returning home to Twin Falls and enrolling at the College of Southern Idaho, I immediately joined the Gay-Straight Alliance on campus. I spoke up for gay rights, and I even helped organize a petition for a gay float in the local Western Days parade. (I honestly can’t remember if we ever really accomplished that or not. I do remember the city council not being very happy with our little request.)

           I watched pretty much anything on TV that had gay stories and/or main characters. Shows like Will & Grace, Queer As Folk, and Six Feet Under were my favorites.  Same for the movies. Hollywood was my religion, the local cineplex my church. Celebrities like Ellen Degeneres were my idols, and I did my best to follow their wisdom and lifestyles. Throughout college and my early adult life afterwards, whenever I introduced myself to new friends and co-workers, I was quick to let them know I was gay. I was proud of that, and anyone who disagreed with that or tried to tell me I was wrong for living that way would quickly get shut down by my new, independent spirit and debating skills. I bought t-shirts with slogans like “I don’t even think straight” or which just had the symbol of the rainbow flag on the front.

           Everything else was secondary, and when my life moved online to social media, I made sure to put my sexual orientation front and center on all my bios. I connected even more to the greater national gay community by joining Facebook pages that promoted gay rights, and I followed many gay activists and celebrities on Twitter and Instagram. In recent years, especially after moving to Las Vegas, I did quiet down a little with the in-your-face attitude, due more to aging than anything else. It was no longer that important than every single new friend or co-worker know right away that I was gay. Instead of announcing it with the first handshake, I let the subject come up organically in regular conversation. I also purchased Apple watch bands made in rainbow colors or plastic bracelets of the same design to wear as a silent testimony of my proud lifestyle.

           Who am I?

           One of my favorite scenes in Disney’s Alice In Wonderland is the one where Alice is confronted by the smoking caterpillar. He repeatedly demands of the young, lost and confused heroine, “Who. Are. You?” (Each word is punctuated by a perfectly shaped ring of cartoon smoke.)

           In recent weeks and months, there have been days when I have stood in front of the mirror above my bathroom sink, looking at my reflection with puzzlement and curiosity, asking that very same question. Some days, I have felt like a true warrior of God, leaping from bed, excited to rush into the world and live the truth of Christ. Other days, I have felt small and weak, and conflicted, and wondering why I have kept giving in to the old lust of the flesh and breaking my vow of celibacy. (Yes, even just giving in to old desires and lusts in the mind’s eye are a sin in the presence of God. It doesn’t necessarily have to go as far as an actual, physical act with another man.)

           One evening, about three weeks ago, as I got ready for bed, I was reflecting on my day. It was one of those mediocre days, not too bad, but not really exciting or exceptional either. I was feeling a little down and discouraged, but I couldn’t say exactly why. I sat on the edge of my bed, lost in thought, and tracing absently with my right index finger the outline of the tattooed cross on my left bicep. Since the tattoo was barely a week old, most of it was still one large scab, and I had been fighting the recent urge to pick at it. I glanced down and saw the plastic rainbow bracelet on my right wrist, right next to the other bracelet with white stars and a blue strip on a black background.

           As if by some spiritual instinct, I reached out with my left hand and pulled that rainbow bracelet off. I held it up, examining it for a few moments, and then I opened the drawer of my nightstand. I tossed the bracelet inside and shut the drawer. I sat for a minute or two, thinking about what I had just done, and then I got up and marched across the hall into my office. I opened the bottom left drawer of my desk and rifled through the several dozen Apple watch bands that have accumulated there over the last few years. I pulled out all the ones that were rainbow striped or rainbow colored. I threw them in the trash. I also threw away the bag of rainbow bracelets (they had been 20 for $5 on Amazon). I turned out the light and shut the office door.

           I went to bed that night feeling more at peace than when I had first asked Jesus into my heart just a few months before.

           The next day, during my lunch break at Walmart, I went through all my social media accounts and removed the word ‘gay’ from my bios, as well as any emoji symbols such as the rainbow flag. That, too, felt right. I was now just ‘Christian’, not ‘gay Christian.’

           I’m still honestly not sure what this means. Part of me has felt utterly terrified, as if I’m erasing more than just part of who I’ve been for all my adult life. The one thing that was the core of my self-identity has been essentially wiped away, as if God was one of the workers in the amusement park of Westworld, another of my favorite shows. In that not-so-distant future setting, the human-like androids are often re-programmed by the park’s engineers to change their personalities or even their entire character to match whatever new story is going to be enacted for the park’s biological visitors and tourists. Ever since my salvation, I have often felt that God is reprogramming me in the same way, erasing parts of the old sinful self and rewriting new software, giving me a new core identity. Right now, that process of sanctification has only just begun, and, hence, there are days when I don’t quite know what to call myself. Yes, I’m a Christian. Yes, I am a child of God. But I feel like there should be more than just that. I feel like the loss of my old identity means that that I also have nowhere to belong; there is currently no new community in which I can plug myself in order to have the same sense of friendship and comradery that I once had with my fellow gays.

           And yes, I know what you’re already saying to your phone or computer screen as you read this: “Neal,” you say, “just being a child of God is enough. Just calling yourself a Christian is enough. That is the new community that you now belong to.”

           Yeah, I know. But, at the same time, I still feel incomplete. Don’t ask me why. I feel like those Lego sets I used to play with as a kid. My favorites were the spaceships, especially the really big ones that came with about two hundred individual pieces. I liked those the best because I had the choice of either building the ship pictured on the front of the box, or I could assemble a different ship entirely using the same pieces but fitting them together in different ways. I feel like God is doing that with me right now. He’s completely disassembled me from the inside out, and his Spirit is slowly and gradually reassembling me into something totally new.

           Part of me wishes He would just hurry the hell up and get to the finished product already! Why is He taking so long?? But the other part of me – the part that I am slowly coming to recognizing as the voice of the Holy Spirit is gently, firmly reminding me that this process can take a lifetime; that I need to learn to be patient and wait upon the Lord.

           Who am I?

           I am ALL of those things that I listed above – yes, even the homosexual. God hasn’t changed that completely. But that particular Lego piece is now on the worktable with all the others. And I no longer feel a need to advertise to anyone and everyone that I am still gay. For now, I am just ‘Christian.’ And I’m looking for a church family where I can truly belong.

           I recently finished reading a book that dealt with this exact topic. The author is Greg Coles, someone I’ve mentioned before in these posts. The book is titled No Longer Strangers: Finding Belonging in a World of Alienation. There are many, many lovely and beautiful passages in the book where Greg gives his own testimony of finding his place in his particular part of the world and his church community after coming out as a gay Christian in 2017. But there are two passages, specifically, that I found most inspirational in my own journey of trying to find the church family in which God wants to place me. I’ve already posted them on my social media, but I’m going to quote them again here.

           The first is from Chapter 5: Hide and Seek:

            “But God—the real God—has only ever been interested in loving us, in redeeming us, in transforming us. He has no interest in an army of clones, a horde of wax figures and cardboard cutouts sent to approach him in bold unanimity while his heterogeneous flesh-and-blood children crouch in the shadows.

Those of us who love Jesus are indeed called to find our paramount identity in him. Every other identity is placed in submission to Christ, upturned and radically reordered by the logic of the kingdom of God. But our particularities are not erased in the process. We are not recycled paper, blended into a pulp and recast as a blank sheet. We are a painted canvas in the hands of a master restorer, painstakingly cleansed and healed and remade until we finally become the irreplicable artwork we were always intended to be.”

           That ‘irreplicable artwork’ is what I cannot wait to see! That’s what I’m eagerly waiting for – that finished masterpiece. But I also know from the testimonies of my parents and Pastor Mark, as well as ones that I’ve read online from other Christian authors, is that there is a real possibility that I might never see that completely finished work; that God, in His infinite wisdom and grace, is never entirely finished with us. And that’s okay too. That’s what I need to recognize and reconcile with right now. The old saying really is sometimes true: it’s the journey that matters more than the destination. But, along the way, God does not want me to just melt into His crowd, to be one more clone in the Christian army. Instead, as Greg points out, God wants each of us to stand out, to share our unique gifts and talents with the body of Christ and with the world around us. We need to shine for Him, and we can’t do that if we just hide away, afraid to be more than just another smiling face in the crowd.

The other passage, the one that brought me to tears, was the final paragraphs of the book:

             “I am my Beloved’s. He is mine. We belong in one another, with one another, to one another. We always will. We’re not going anywhere.

             I’m not the only one making these vows with heaven, to be sure. A symphony of voices joins mine in the air. The song includes married folks as well as celibates like me, straight and gay and everything else. Our choir represents every race, every language, every nation.

             But despite the grandeur of the choir, Christ still hears and responds to each individual voice. He isn’t content to declare his affection for us in form letters and megaphone announcements. He whispers to us one by one, into your ear and mine, exchanging promises of love. As long as these promises remain true—as long as our fragile memories can hold them—home will never be further than a whisper in our ears, never further than an ink drop beneath our skin. We are loved. And because we are loved, we belong.”

           I have re-read that passage so many times over the last couple weeks, savoring it like piece of gold, a treasure of beauty and real wisdom. Greg’s completely right. Not only does God want us, just as we are, no matter how broken, how lost, or how sinful, but He also wants for us to belong in Him, and Him alone. This small piece of wisdom seems at once so simple and yet so complex. I have had to remind myself almost every day, especially those days when I’m feeling lonely, or a little lost, or discouraged because the church that I had hoped was going to be my new home didn’t work out after all, that I am first and foremost a child of God. I belong only – and solely – in Him. I need to understand that that is all that matters right now. The rest will come in time. Perhaps once I have understood and fully absorbed this first and important truth, then God will begin providing unto me the rest of his desired blessings and, especially, belonging within a new church family.

           As a result of these blog posts, I have had the immense blessing and pleasure of reconnecting with old friends who had once taught and reared me when I was that stubborn, contrary, rebellious kid who gave out more sass and disrespect than a Las Vegas drag queen in a nightclub. One of those friends shared a quote by Leonard Ravenhill with me a few days ago that immediately touched my heart. I printed it off and taped it to the bottom frame of one of my computer monitors in my home office.

“Great eagles fly alone; great lions hunt alone; great souls walk alone – alone with God!”

             The friend who shared this helped me to see that same truth that Greg pointed out in that second passage that I quoted above. It’s okay for me to stand apart from the crowd – Christian or otherwise. It’s okay for me to continue marching on my own. The only difference between my old life and this new, blessed one is that God is now marching beside me. He has changed the beat of my drum, and He has “…begun a good work” in me, as Paul says Philippians 1:6, and that work will not be completed until “…the day of Jesus Christ.” But, if I’m honest, I will say that, on most days, I don’t feel like the lion or the eagle. Not just yet. I feel more like a church mouse from a Beatrix Potter tale, crouching in the shadow of my Lord and Savior, and letting Him do His thing on my behalf.

               One of my other favorite quotes that has had a special significance to me these last few months is by Socrates. He once stated, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” I think God would agree, and the best form of self examination should always start with the following question:

                Who am I?

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

It’s been a wild few weeks but surprise! I am back and I am still watching two dudes beat up ghosts and look pretty. It’s Supernatural! 

Alright so here I am on the penultimate disc (thanks Lemony Snicket) of season 2 and at this point in the series we should be ramping up for the season finale. If you look back at this point in season 1, that meant putting the Winchesters under heavy fire (with the one funny episode), but this season it feels like they’re more interested in philosophical, emotional ramping than action ramping (with one funny episode). 

So many FEELINGS!

And you know what? I gotta hand it to Kripke and Co., cuz they figured out what worked in season 1 (brothers and feelings) and they leaned into it this season (brothers + feelings = 15 seasons). It’s a little hit and miss, but the core of season 2 is all about the line between Monsters and Men. I say hit and miss because we have spent a LOT of time on Dean this season but these episodes are all about Sam. And Dean’s arc is very different from Sam’s. Dean’s emotional arc is all about how he’s done with hunting, he’s done with sacrificing, which is WILD if you think about how early in the series this is. And yeah, it does, it does tie in to Sam’s troubles but it just doesn’t feel as clean as it could. Maybe it’s just because they spend much more time on Dean’s feelings? Maybe it’s cuz I personally pay more attention to Dean that I feel this way? But also, consider: the ep where Sam seemingly goes off the rails is all about Dean’s internal struggle with whether or not he can waste his own brother, even if his brother is evil now. We don’t ever see the fallout from Sam’s point of view. Sam was possessed at the time, he didn’t really go darkside, but also, Sam was possessed at the time??? And we don’t see any emotional fallout from that?!?!?

Nah, we’ll just end on this cringy joke about a girl being all up in Sam for a week and deflect away from our problems, nbd.

Kripke has mentioned in interviews that he thought the mythos of this season was muddled and that the psychic children plotline doesn’t really land because we never see Sam struggle with whether he’s good or not. At this point in the season, I definitely agree. They do give dialogue to Sam to remind viewers that he’s struggling with who he is, but they don’t devote enough screen time to it to make it feel like it lands. Dean’s struggle to keep Sam alive hits a lot heavier, but that may have more to do with that face and that g- d- lip quiver. 

Damn you and that lip quiver Jensen Ackles. Oh wait, this show already did!

Now we’re gonna make an abrupt turn into Sam’s emotional arc for the series. See, for the next few episodes we’re gonna follow a bunch of Monsters, right? By surface level definition, they are all text book Monsters, but they aren’t Villains, and that’s a big distinction. Because a lot of these characters are fundamentally good people, but they’re also the thing that the Winchesters have sworn their lives to hunt, so, like...how do we deal with that? 

First up we have ��Roadkill”, which I like as a deviation from the regular format. There’s a lot of this tinkering going around this season, or at least, those are the episodes that stand out the most to me. I of course love Tricia Helfer (as a sort-of-but-not-really Battlestar Galactica Fan). This episode straight up brings us back to that key question this season: Are All Monsters Evil? Sam consistently draws a pretty clear distinction between Monster and Bad Guy, Dean consistently does not. Sam makes it clear that he has to believe there’s a line because if #YesAllMonsters are evil, and Sam’s abilities/destiny make him kind of a Monster, the logic follows that he’ll become evil too, or perhaps already is. 

In this ep we see Helfer as Molly, a woman who slowly comes to realize that she is a ghost who has been haunting the same stretch of road once a year for twelve years. I think Helfer totally crushes it. I think Molly as a character is hella interesting. She comes across as a pretty realized person rather than just a caricature. There’s a lot of heart in her and I appreciate that she handles The Truth pretty well, both when Sam and Dean tell her about the hauntings and then later when they reveal that she has been dead for over a decade. She asks good questions, like where DO those ghosts go once they’ve been busted? And she represents our philosophical conundrum - she’s a ghost that they have to bust, but she’s not evil. She’s not even really that bad. She’s just stuck here and can’t figure out how to move on. By the logic of the show, if she sticks around for too much longer she’ll start to get corrupted, but for now she’s just a scared, lost, woman trying to find her husband. She even starts to sympathize with the actual bad guy of the episode, a man she vehicular-manslaughtered but who comes back every year to torture her. 

And in the end, she finds peace! This is the second ghost this season that they actually lay to rest, not just defeat, and it’s nice. I think it’s nice. 

Is it odd that, for an episode that should hit so close to Sam’s internal struggle, the whole story is told from Molly’s POV? Again, I loved it, I love seeing the Winchesters from an external point of view, but it is...interesting...

Then we get “Heart”, which just digs deeper into the themes we got in “Roadkill.” 

This time, our Extra of the Week is another unwitting Monster. Emmanuelle Vaugier plays Madison, a kind of kickass lady who is really getting her shit together. She’s dumped her bad boyfriend, she’s killin’ it at work (lol), she’s out with friends, she’s a homeowner - this chick is LEGIT. And damn if she doesn���t know what she wants. Almost from the minute that Sam steps into her house she is into him, like, into him. She knows exactly what she’s doing when she dumps that basket of panties in front of him to “fold” them. Their chemistry together is good and honestly I was pretty thrilled for both of them when they got down to business. 

Good for you, you crazy kids! Good for you! 

But tragically, Madison is also werewolf. She’s completely oblivious to the fact that she is definitely murdering people on the full moon. When Sam finds out, and then finds out that Madison is not only unable to control her transformations or murders, but also unaware of what’s happening entirely, it’s another blatantly obvious metaphor for what Sam is dealing with - do supernatural powers make me a monster? Does being a monster make me evil? Does it count as evil if I’m not in control of my actions? And I love that this forces Dean to re-evaluate his stance as well. Cuz see Dean (and I love the guy) views things in very black and white terms, rarely asks questions and is 100% ready to kill this girl because she’s a Monster, full stop. Sam throws this back in his face with the line “So me you won’t kill me, but her you’re just gonna blow away?”, reminding us that Dean’s attitude is pretty damn hypocritical. And I say all of this as a Dean stan who loves watching that lip quiver, but also I am much more in agreement with Sam’s line of thinking on this - we can make a distinction between Monster and Evil in this show. I think ultimately, Dean starts to do this too, but just not in this episode. 

To their credit, they do try to save Madison, but failing that, they realize that Madison can’t be saved and so she’ll have to be put down - they can’t save her, so they have to kill her, if you will. It’s a surprisingly emotional climax and got pretty heavy at the end when Sam - who’s trying to figure out if he is worth saving - has to...what do we want to call this, a mercy killing? An execution? I don’t know, it’s mostly just a hell of a gut punch. A well done gut punch, but a gut punch nonetheless. 

The first lady that Sam bones since his fiancé and then you’re just like, and now you KILL her! Damn, show, what is WRONG with you?!?

I have to point out that we end the episode on Dean’s face. Like, I’m not mad about it, I am thrilled that on the list of Things That Work, Kripke and Co. were like, oh yeah, gotta put in as much Sad Dean Face as possible, but also, this was Sam’s episode? So shouldn’t we...get one final shot...of Sam? Like, I’m not crazy, right? They’re really pushing Dean this season, right? Who is this season supposed to be about?!?!?!

This is it! This is the last shot of the episode! This Sam-Centric Episode!

And then after all that heaviness and spiritual questioning, we get our Funny Episode. Meta Episode? Doesn’t matter. 

“Hollywood Babylon” is A+ Great and I love it. I love watching shows about shows, it is my jam. Watching this time, I did wish they’d thrown in more niche? Like, I just felt like the inside jokes could have been more inside, but also, Dean was SO happy in this episode, I didn’t even care. We so rarely see anyone in this show be happy, it’s nice that they get a break sometimes. It’s also weird that Sam seemed to get the most break? As in, he was getting a break from this episode entirely, especially since the last episode was a pretty heavy emotional arc for him? It’s a weird choice, but not something I really noticed because I was distracted by Dean working his way up from PA to Grip in like, a day, and I was just so proud of him. Anyway it was nice. It was NICE!

He’s doing SUCH a good job!

In this episode, our super special Extra of the Week is another lady, the fictional actress Tara Benchley played by Elizabeth Whitmere. I should probably stop using the term extra, by SAG/AFTRA standards she’s (probably?) a Guest Star, but honestly aren’t they all background extras in the lives of the Winchesters? Anyway, I appreciate how they portray Tara. They could very easily have written her to be a real piece of work. She could have been a whiney diva, she could have been a ditz, she could have been any number of Actress Tropes, but she seems pretty even-keeled. She has a certain amount of clout on set, she is friendly with the crew, she’s given a character trait that’s shared by real life actor Jensen Ackles - they really do treat her with a surprising amount of respect for an episode that goes real hard on producers and studios and horror generally. And she doesn’t die! So that’s a plus! But she does sleep with Dean which is...I mean...also a plus? I don’t know. I love Dean but I sometimes wonder how much sex he’s actually had? Like, if you told me it was 75% exaggeration, I’d believe you. Unimportant side head cannon. 

And then our final episode on this disc, “Folsom Prison Blues”. About time those boys went to jail, honestly. 

What can I say? The boy looks good in a coverall.

We get the return of Henricksen in this episode which is fun! We get a pretty kickass public defender, Mara White (Bridget Ann White), who is also fun! And we get Prison Dean, which is maybe the funnest. 

I like the twist with the prison warden - where you think that he’s going to be all aggro and corrupt and it turns out that he’s actually, like...looking out for his charges? In a...In a nice way? I guess? He wants the ghost to stop killing the people in his prison is the only fact that we get in the script, but it leads me to believe that he takes his job seriously and he wants second chances and better lives for all the cons in the yard and that makes me happy. He is also another in a long line of father figures that would have done a better job raising Sam and Dean, but that’s not important. And yeah, some of the cons are probably in here for good reason, but Lucas seems real nice and Tiny literally has a conversation with Dean where he explains that he’s basically just a product of bad parenting + Low Self Esteem, so on a low key level this episode is saying the same thing - just because these prisoners are technically “monsters”, does it mean that they have to die? Does that make the killings in this prison right? Everyone from Dean to the Warden seems to think not. Side note, that story from Tiny sounds eerily like Dean’s own life experiences, so he should probably have paid more attention to it but I guess he was busy getting cardiac arrest from a ghost so whatever. 

If this story wasn’t just RIGHT on the nose. 

Cuz that’s right, we have a psycho lady vigilante ghost! She does not believe in second chances and is killing cons from beyond the grave with her heart attack powers. And if we look at the low key metaphor tie in that the episode might be trying to make here, then you could argue that the show is coming down pretty hard on this one - just because you’re a Bad Guy doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy! Stop shooting first and asking questions later Dean!

It’s not your fault, bb, you were raised by a dumbass. 

And all of this buildup leads to...”What is and What Should Never Be”, possibly one of my fav episodes for Reasons, but guys it’s another SUPER heavy Dean episode, you could even say that Sam, the real Sam, isn’t even in, like 75 - 80% of it before we...get...to...Sam’s season finale? You know what, that’s next week’s problem. 

As much as I’m enjoying the stand alone episodes for this season especially, the mythos/arcs here are kind of a mess. I think the 20 ep seasons are instrumental to why audiences love the show, so I don’t want to take episodes away, but I do feel that a shorter season could have streamlined this season arc better. With fewer episodes, you have to focus your story so much more and sharpen your storytelling that Dean’s Arc and Sam’s Arc would probably feel more connected if they tried telling it in 8 - 12 episodes instead of 22. But then we wouldn’t have gotten the show that lasted 15 seasons, so would the trade off be worth it? Maybe some day we’ll find the alternate universe where Kripke waited 15 years to bring his series to Netflix and we got 5 short seasons of something completely different