One-part shameful, one-part proud. One-part negligent, and two-parts pensive. All 13 episodes in one day.
Season 1 stole my heart, but Season 2...my mind. Every gripping second of corruption, machination, revenge, and complicity saturated my fovea, harlem shook its way into my visual cortex, and finally resolved to ruckus in my prefrontal cortex. I don’t make practice of binge-watching, but who could blame me when House of Cards is inundated with quotes like: “A cook can’t blame his ingredients if he doesn't like how they taste together” and “To improve is to change. To perfect is to change often.”
Seriously folks, this is terrific television. Breaking Bad? not quite, but terrific nonetheless. I digress.
My thoughts about Frank Underwood's plight towards sovereignty -- and purpose for this post -- titrate into two questions my colleague asked me a few weeks ago:
what is power? and who has it?