Sopranos Finale: Cliff Notes for the "Ambiguity Challenged"

So I've abandoned my blog in favor of watching TV (among other things) but now TV has driven me back to it.

Seems like a lot of bloggers are saying either that the ending was "ambiguous" or that Tony lives. And a lot of people hate it.

Personally I loved the ending and I think it was almost perfectly clear: Tony got shot! Do we really need to see him face down in the onion rings to confirm that?

Every cliche of the mob hit was well represented in the final diner scene, down to that mysterious guy with the hat who keeps eyeing Tony, goes to the bathroom, and then, "Godfather" style, whacks Tony.

The entire series was VERY closely tied to Tony's own perspective. We shared it to the last, when Tony's life comes to an abrupt but inevitable close. Specifically, I think Tony never sees what hits him--a bullet from the gun of the bathroom-going-hat-guy---because he is looking not at the hit man but Meadow coming through the door.

Other bloggers have commented that Tony and Bobby had a conversation in the fishing boat (in the course of the lake house episode) in which Tony muses about what death is like. He says something to the effect of--you never see it coming, and then everything just goes black. Which was exactly what happened last night.

I thought it was an incredibly powerful ending (once I realized it wasn't a DVR foul up) because if the blackout equals Tony's death, then the finale presents death as utter annihilation, which is pretty scary.

There's no misty fade out, no final shot of the corpse, no music rolling with the credits, just stark, instant finality. Much less is there a lake of fire or gaggle of pitchforking wielding demons to provide some final commentary on Tony's life. He lived in hell, and then he died. And that's that.

To anyone who thinks that Tony's life "goes on" or that the ending is ambiguous I have to say: Duh.

And if David Chase himself comes out and refutes my opinion later, I still stand by it. Because I'd rather be whacked eating onion rings than publicly admit a mistake.

Required Reading

Here is a book you MUST read. It's mandatory. Stop what you're doing and get this book: Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky.

It's actually two novellas (as in short novel, not one of the Spanish language soaps which, as required by various international treaties, always features a well-to-do young man named Juan Carlos who is in love with a beautiful but poor young woman employed as a domestic servant on his cruel parents' lavish estate.)

The first novella is "Storm in June," takes place in Paris just after the surrender to the Germans. (Surprisingly, despite what esteemed historians led me to believe, virtually no cheese eating takes place after the French army throws down its arms and rolls out the welcome mat for the Nazis.) The second, "Dolce" takes place mostly in a French village during the occupation.

I would like to quote one of my favorite parts, but like a fool I returned the book to the library. Anyway, the portraits of various people in extreme circumstances are powerful: I'd finish a chapter and just have to put it down awhile because it was so intense.

The book has a pretty incredible back story. It was written in 1942--which makes it almost shocking that her depiction of certain German characters is so humane. Nemirovsky didn't live to finish the 2 additional novellas she'd planned for her Suite. She was Jewish (and also not a French citizen) and was therefore taken off to a death camp. What a waste.

Now go get the book!

Evil Vegetarians: A Coffee Table Book

A few nights ago around 3 a.m. I thought I had hit upon an original, maybe even a brilliant idea. And then, as it so often does, Google shattered my dreams.

My idea was to compose a coffee table book of Evil Vegetarians, complete with full page portraits and short bios of the heinous herbivores.

To the layman, the term "evil vegetarian" may simply conjure up images of Adolf Hitler, or possibly of Peter Singer, who, while actually more militant about the vegetable part, is only guilty of theoretical mass murder since he's merely an academic and not the Fuhrer.

But those of us who have actually researched the subject (by which I mean contemplating it briefly in a semi conscious state) know that Hitler and Singer are merely the best known of a very distinguished evil vegetarian field.

Other evil vegetarians include Rasputin, Genghis Khan, Bill O'Reilly, Queen Elizabeth II and the singer James Taylor.

No doubt some readers would denounce my book as biased and incorrect, claiming that the above mentioned are either not evil or not vegetarians.

Well, it was just a first draft.

Besides, evil is a very subjective concept. I may think hosting an obnoxious talk show is "evil"; you may think tax evasion, jay walking, or ritual human sacrifice are "evil." We'll just have to agree to disagree.

Furthermore, a survey by Time magazine found that 60% of self-described vegetarians had eaten meat within the past 24 hours, whereas Genghis Khan and Rasputin have gone much longer without so much as a Slim Jim.

This supports my view that all the people I listed may fairly be called "vegetarians," and also suggests that vegetarians are usually liars.

I'm not sure why so many vegetarians are evil, but I think it may be that becoming a mass murder makes one more likely to take up an all-vegetable diet, and not vice versa.

When I sit down to a medium rare steak my conscience is occasionally troubled by what the cow endured ("The cow, the old cow she is dead! It sleeps well, the horned head!") but the sight doesn't remind me of how a village of peasants looked after my secret police force decimated them.

Also, if you're worried about being assassinated by members of your own elite guard, your chances of detecting poison in creamed peas are probably better than in heavily seasoned barbecued meats.

Anyway, the morning after my inspiration I dished out oatmeal to the lunatics and sat down at my computer, ready to take the first step toward achieving the fame and fortune that have strangely eluded me so far.

And that's when Google broke my heart, again. There's already an entire web site devoted to Evil Vegetarians. Read it and weep. I did.

Come for the cheap rooms, Stay for the Capuchino

I've been spending too much time on TripAdvisor lately and I've become a fan of the Trip Advisor blog, which features some hilarious reviews. This one seems like an obvious fake, and yet I really want to believe in it. I guess I'm just a romantic:

My name is T------ and I returned to this hotel one month after leaving. To reunite with the love of my life. His name is Capuchino and he is an entertainer there at the ------- hotel. For those of you who have been blessed enough to know him and be in his presence, know what an incredible person he is and how fun he is to be around. For those of you thinking of going to this resort, let me tell you not only as Capuchino's girlfriend but just as someone who truly admires who he is, you're trip to this hotel would be worth while just to meat him.

Capuchino and I have not been together very long but we love each other very much. And so I'm so great full that I took my first trip to this hotel. And now I will be moving there from Canada in 3 months to work at the resort and to be with my one true love Capuchino.

So make this trip to this hotel, enjoy the beaches, the sun and the way of life there, but most of all take time to get to know the people because they will truly impact your life for the better. I have made life time friends there and couldn't imagine my life without them. You never know maybe your trip could bring you love too!!

If you see Capuchino tell him about my letter and tell him I said "hi"!!!!! Oh and I love him so much!!!! Also say hi to Chocolate, Johnathan, Bebeto, Louis, David, and all the dancer's. Just a fiew of the amazing people you will enjoy!! They are tallented and have wonderful hearts, enjoy!!

Majority of Children Report Abuse!

The Onion breaks the shocking story.

Advice for Single Women

The shadowy group of anarchists posing as the columnist "Dear Abby" is at it again. Their mission: edge America's already declining marriage rates into a tailspin.

That's the only possible explanation for the series of letters now appearing in the column advising single women on where to meet "eligible" men.

The first suggestion is: eat breakfast in a diner in Maine! This tip was sent in by---- the owner of a diner in Maine!

Ladies, he advises that you sit at the counter (tables are for married people, not pathetic loners like you!) and bring along a crossword puzzle so that you can engage your syrup slurping prey in conversation by coyly asking for help with the difficult words.

I have to admit, this does sounds like an excellent way to meet male octogenarians who happen to live in Maine, if that's you're thing.

The second letter is even more disturbing: Hang out at McDonald's on Wednesday evenings, when divorced, broke dads while away the brief hours of their court mandated weekly visitation with their small children.

The demographic of single women who prefer divorced, possibly bitter and/or bankrupt men who are part owners of small children has got to be nearly as small as the crossword-solving-octogenarian-Down Easter niche.

The letter warns that these men may be touchy, damaged, and inclined to hate all women but says that "one woman's trash is another woman's treasure," which is high praise indeed.

Even so, wouldn't a single (childless) woman feel a bit awkward clambering up Mayor McCheese? And who do you chat up first: the potential husband or the prospective step child?

Personally, I'd begin with the children, gathering detailed information about their behavior, eating habits, bed time, and the details of the custody arrangement before zeroing in on the fathers.

Is there a more ludicrous, ineffective/ sure-to-lead-to-disaster way to meet single men? Forthcoming Dear Abby columns are rumored to recommend becoming a prison pen pal, hanging around a battered women's shelter, or getting involved in the hair or fashion industry. Happy hunting, ladies.

Jesus, Give Me a Sign

To kick off Holy Week, I thought I'd share this useful site, the Church Sign Generator. You can view some actual church signs, but best of all you can make your own. There are various denominational options, but since mockery begins at home, I find myself especially drawn to the Catholic sign.