![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
We started S2 of Deadwood tonight. Bullock might be the show's designated Good Guy, but I find his warped notion of honor off-putting, especially when it comes to Alma. He married his brother's widow from a sense of stodgy, Old Testament obligation. He knew he was married when he came to Deadwood, but he willingly took up with Alma because he never thought inconvenient wifey and her son would ever turn up in such an unsavory place. But ha, so they do, without warning, so he decides that the honorable thing to do is to sever ties with Alma, whom he professes to love, to spare his wife the daily humiliation. But it's absolutely fine for Alma to live with the anguish of seeing him every day about his appointed rounds as Sheriff.
Uh huh. Wow, what a jack wagon. If he were truly honorable, then he would have kept it in his pants in the first place. Instead, Alma gets to feel used and betrayed because he needed to get his winkie waxed. She's not entirely blameless since he told her of the marriage before he bedded her for the first time, but it's hard not to feel a pang of empathy for a woman who knows she's about to be thrown over for the sake of a man's ego and precious, fragile honor. If I were her, I'd stab him in the dick and grind my heel in the wound on the way out of camp, but since the narrative would have us believe in and root for their epic, star-crossed love, they'll likely just pine and brood respectively until one of them dies or until inconvenient wifey pops her clogs in a devastating outhouse mishap. Fuck me.
Uh huh. Wow, what a jack wagon. If he were truly honorable, then he would have kept it in his pants in the first place. Instead, Alma gets to feel used and betrayed because he needed to get his winkie waxed. She's not entirely blameless since he told her of the marriage before he bedded her for the first time, but it's hard not to feel a pang of empathy for a woman who knows she's about to be thrown over for the sake of a man's ego and precious, fragile honor. If I were her, I'd stab him in the dick and grind my heel in the wound on the way out of camp, but since the narrative would have us believe in and root for their epic, star-crossed love, they'll likely just pine and brood respectively until one of them dies or until inconvenient wifey pops her clogs in a devastating outhouse mishap. Fuck me.