Time to talk about The Wire-No. 49 (contains spoilers)

Yes, Oz guys turn up on those shows all the time. I still catch myself referring to Lt. Daniels as Mobay.

And Adibisi lives...

 

It's driving me bonkers that I can't click on a thread about The Wire with more than 50 responses on it. Damn it. Sucks being one of the poor kids over here.

Some hilarious lines from episode 49, though.

-Method Man saying that Omar's lady pulling guns out her pussy was "unseemly."

-Bunk, drunk stumbling around in a vacant, saying he needed some "braille money" because he didn't want to accidentally pull out a "25 dollar bill" and give it to Lester when he only owed him a $20 from their bet.

-Norman singing "we won't go until we get some, we won't go until we get some" was fabulous. He may be the best minor character on the show.


Sharrod's death, though, was one of the rare times on The Wire where you could see something coming from a mile away, and then it happened. Really didn't feel up to the storytelling standards of this show. I felt awful for Bubs, but I also felt like Pelecanos and Burns kind of missed with that one.

 

I feel your pain, DD.

But I also like the aspect of waiting for Sunday night. My week is done, a new one about to start, and I take a few hours completely off and reward myself with the Wire.

Or maybe I'm just rationalizing.

 

Loosers.

 

I kind of like the waiting too, but I miss the discussion. I love hearing what other people think. (Like you pointing out that Bubbles makes his bed. Totally missed that one.) By the time we watch Episode 50, it will be just you and me posting on that thread, Zeke. I guess the upside is, Pube won't be around, calling me a cocksucker or whatnot.

 

49 also featured Herc's likely only redeeming moment.

In Wire code, that means he's as good as gone.

But don't fret, DD. You and I and the rest of the proles can have a fine discussion starting Monday morning. What we lack in access to technology we make up for in general insight, charm and good looks.

 

We are Wire fans, Zeke. So no lies between us. We aren't the greatest posters. And we aren't the worst. We put down some good posts and dog a few bad ones now and then. But mutherfucker, we have our moments. Yes, we fucking do. You remember your analysis of The Greek? The purest embodiment of the evils of capitalism? You brought that post home. And me with the stuff about the kids being echoes of D'Angelo, Avon and Stringer? Late one night when I should have been in bed? That was you and me at our best. And Season 2, with the stevedores. We took a lot of hot-headed posters and cooled them. Yes indeed. We won as much as we lost. Much as any of us. Did we piss off a poster or three? No fucking doubt. I think the last thread, people actually kind of got used to us, thank god. Did we post the wrong shit now and then? Did we bust balls and modify our posts and forget to compliment one another, and go after the wrong fucking posters for the wrong fucking reasons, every now and then? Who fucking doesn't? Christ. Were we as full of shit as every other sad sack mutherfucker wearing the badge of an SportsJournalists.com Wire fan? Ab-sa-fucking-lout-ly. Our shit was as weak as theirs, no question. But we posted, after each episode, standing up for all those without OnDemand. All of em. On SportsJournalists.com. Working. Sharing a dark corner of the American experiment.

We were called. We served. We. Are. Counted.

Old King Cole.

 

Beautiful, Double.

Let's go get a taste.

(I actually weirded out a group of my buddies Saturday night, when, preparing to make a run to the par, I pointed at them and said, "You up?")

 

Nice speech, DD. Now, everybody sing!

The Cadillac stood by the house
And the yanks they were within
And the tinker boys they hissed advice
'Hot-wire her with a pin'
Then we turned and shook as we had a look
In the room where the dead man lay
So big Jim Dwyer made his last trip
To the shores where his father's laid

And fifteen minutes later
We had our first taste of whiskey
There was uncles giving lectures
On ancient Irish history
The men all started telling jokes
And the women they got frisky
BY five o'clock in the evening
Every bastard there was pisky

Fare thee well going away
There's nothing left to say
Farewell to New York City boys
To Boston and PA
He took them out
With a well-aimed clout
He was often heard to say
I'm a free born man of the USA

He fought the champ in Pittsburgh
And he slashed him to the ground
He took on Tiny Tartanella
And it only went one round
He never had no time for reds
For drink or dice or whores
But he never threw a fight
When the fight was right
So they sent him to the war

Fare the well gone away
There's nothing left to say
With a slonte Joe and Erin go
My love's in Amerikay
They're calling out the rosary
Spanish wine from far away
I'm a free born man of the USA

This morning on the harbour
When I said goodbye to you
I remember how I’d swore
That I'd come back to you one day
And as the sunset came to meet
The evening on the hill
I told you I'd always love you
I always did, I always will

Fare thee well gone away
There's nothing left to say
'cept to say adieu
To your eyes as blue
As the water in the bay
To big Jim Dwyer
The man of wire
Who was often heard to say
I'm a free born man of the USA
I'm a free born man of the USA

 

I'll be there on Sunday, too. Fuckabuncha Charter!

 

Amen. Twatwaffles, every one of em! (edited to reflect TGD's new favorite curse word)

 

Post of the year, Double Down. Post of the year.