Atlantic Monthly Contributors's Blog, page 439

Images of the Unrest in Baltimore

On Monday afternoon the funeral for Freddie Gray took place in Baltimore, Maryland. Gray died last week from spinal injuries suffered while in Baltimore Police custody. After the funeral, against the wishes of the Gray family, some peaceful demonstrations took place, but other protests became violent, devolving into chaotic clashes, and resulting in numerous injuries to police officers, smashed storefronts, burned cars, and widespread looting. Governor Larry Hogan has declared a state of emergency, activating the Maryland National Guard, and the scheduled baseball game between the Baltimore Orioles and Chicago White Sox has been postponed.

Images of Violent Protests in Baltimore

On Monday afternoon the funeral for Freddie Gray took place in Baltimore, Maryland. Gray died last week from spinal injuries suffered while in Baltimore Police custody. After the funeral, against the wishes of the Gray family, some peaceful demonstrations took place, but other protests became violent, devolving into chaotic clashes, and resulting in numerous injuries to police officers, smashed storefronts, burned cars, and widespread looting. Governor Larry Hogan has declared a state of emergency, activating the Maryland National Guard, and the scheduled baseball game between the Baltimore Orioles and Chicago White Sox has been postponed.

Protesters and Police Clash in Baltimore

Updated on April 27, 2015, at 9:16 p.m.

Maryland Governor Larry Hogan declared a state of emergency and called out the National Guard on Monday night, "to address the growing violence and unrest in Baltimore City." Later Monday night, Baltimore Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake announced that a week-long curfew would be imposed on the city. Maryland State Police said they would request an additional 5,000 officers from the mid-Atlantic region to restore order.

Earlier in the day, police clashed with demonstrators during protests over the death of a young black man in police custody. Video footage showed a handful of protesters and bystanders throwing rocks and bottles at police officers in full riot gear, who responded with pepper spray and tear gas. City officials said at a press conference on Monday night that 15 officers had been injured and two were hospitalized, including one officer who was reportedly “unresponsive,” although further details about his or her condition were not immediately available. "Too many people have spent generations building up this city for it to be destroyed by thugs," Rawlings-Blake told reporters.

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Protests began after Freddie Gray, a 25-year-old black man, died while in the custody of the Baltimore Police. Although not obviously injured when arrested, Gray arrived at the police station with severe spinal injuries. He died a week later on April 19.

The ensuing protests have, according to observers, remained overwhelmingly non-violent, as protesters have heeded calls from communal leaders to remain peaceful. But as in other American cities in which police have met protests with shows of force, the situation in Baltimore has grown increasingly tense. Reports on Monday gave conflicting accounts of the extent of the clashes, and as news filtered in, many details remained unclear.

The circumstances of Gray's death remained similarly uncertain. As my colleague David Graham noted, protesters allege Gray’s injuries were caused by a familiar tactic known as “rough riding,” in which an unrestrained arrestee is violently thrown around a moving vehicle. Six officers were suspended in the aftermath and the U.S. Department of Justice launched an investigation into Gray's death.

Tensions grew over the weekend as demonstrators converged on Camden Yards, where the Orioles played the Boston Red Sox. Although the majority of demonstrators were peaceful, police arrested 35 people after windows and a empty police vehicle were smashed. City officials temporarily stopped fans from leaving the stadium, citing public-safety fears. Major League Baseball temporarily postponed Monday night's Orioles game after violence intensified during the day. Police announced they had arrested an additional 27 people on Monday. Baltimore schools will be closed on Tuesday.

State officials compared the violence to the Baltimore riot of April, 1968. “It’s nowhere near as bad as that at this point,” Hogan said, “but we want to make sure it doesn’t get to that point.”

On Saturday night, Fredericka Gray, Freddie’s twin sister, repeated her call for an end to the violence. At the funeral on Monday, Pastor Jamal Bryant, who helped organize protests after Gray’s death, also urged protesters to remain active but not resort to rioting and looting.

“We will find the people that are responsible and we will put them in jail,” Baltimore Police captain Eric Kowalczyk told a press conference Monday afternoon. “Right now, it’s a group of lawless individuals with no regard for the safety of the people who live in that community.” Baltimore Police’s Criminal Intelligence Unit also issued a statement claiming that gangs had “entered into a partnership” to attack police officers. The source for that claim, like so much else, remained uncertain.

A State of Emergency in Baltimore

Updated on April 27, 2015, at 9:16 p.m.

Maryland Governor Larry Hogan declared a state of emergency and called out the National Guard on Monday night, "to address the growing violence and unrest in Baltimore City." Later Monday night, Baltimore Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake announced that a week-long curfew would be imposed on the city. Maryland State Police said they would request an additional 5,000 officers from the mid-Atlantic region to restore order.

Earlier in the day, police clashed with demonstrators during protests over the death of a young black man in police custody. Video footage showed a handful of protesters and bystanders throwing rocks and bottles at police officers in full riot gear, who responded with pepper spray and tear gas. City officials said at a press conference on Monday night that 15 officers had been injured and two were hospitalized, including one officer who was reportedly “unresponsive,” although further details about his or her condition were not immediately available. "Too many people have spent generations building up this city for it to be destroyed by thugs," Rawlings-Blake told reporters.

Related Story

The Brutality of Police Culture in Baltimore

Protests began after Freddie Gray, a 25-year-old black man, died while in the custody of the Baltimore Police. Although not obviously injured when arrested, Gray arrived at the police station with severe spinal injuries. He died a week later on April 19.

The ensuing protests have, according to observers, remained overwhelmingly non-violent, as protesters have heeded calls from communal leaders to remain peaceful. But as in other American cities in which police have met protests with shows of force, the situation in Baltimore has grown increasingly tense. Reports on Monday gave conflicting accounts of the extent of the clashes, and as news filtered in, many details remained unclear.

The circumstances of Gray's death remained similarly uncertain. As my colleague David Graham noted, protesters allege Gray’s injuries were caused by a familiar tactic known as “rough riding,” in which an unrestrained arrestee is violently thrown around a moving vehicle. Six officers were suspended in the aftermath and the U.S. Department of Justice launched an investigation into Gray's death.

Tensions grew over the weekend as demonstrators converged on Camden Yards, where the Orioles played the Boston Red Sox. Although the majority of demonstrators were peaceful, police arrested 35 people after windows and a empty police vehicle were smashed. City officials temporarily stopped fans from leaving the stadium, citing public-safety fears. Major League Baseball temporarily postponed Monday night's Orioles game after violence intensified during the day. Police announced they had arrested an additional 27 people on Monday. Baltimore schools will be closed on Tuesday.

State officials compared the violence to the Baltimore riot of April, 1968. “It’s nowhere near as bad as that at this point,” Hogan said, “but we want to make sure it doesn’t get to that point.”

On Saturday night, Fredericka Gray, Freddie’s twin sister, repeated her call for an end to the violence. At the funeral on Monday, Pastor Jamal Bryant, who helped organize protests after Gray’s death, also urged protesters to remain active but not resort to rioting and looting.

“We will find the people that are responsible and we will put them in jail,” Baltimore Police captain Eric Kowalczyk told a press conference Monday afternoon. “Right now, it’s a group of lawless individuals with no regard for the safety of the people who live in that community.” Baltimore Police’s Criminal Intelligence Unit also issued a statement claiming that gangs had “entered into a partnership” to attack police officers. The source for that claim, like so much else, remained uncertain.

Adam Sandler Has Finally Found the Limits of 'Satire'

Does Adam Sandler have an expiration date? Does his particular brand of slapstick—humor that's infused with a wan self-deprecation, that manages to be simultaneously silly and sociopathic, that once found Sandler punching Bob Barker in the face while informing him that "the price is wrong, bitch"—hold up? Is Sandler's own price now, finally, wrong?

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Recent events would suggest yes. Late last week, in the course of filming Sandler's newest project, the made-for-Netflix Western spoof The Ridiculous 6, a Native-American cultural advisor and several performers and extras walked off the set in protest. (Sample characters: Beaver Breath, No Bra, Sits-on-Face. Sample line: "Say honey: how about after this, we go someplace and I put my peepee in your teepee?") As Allison Young, a Navajo actress who quit after being asked to do a scene "requiring her to fall down drunk, surrounded by jeering white men who rouse her by dousing her with more alcohol" told the Indian Country Media Network, “We talked to the producers about our concerns. They just told us, ‘If you guys are so sensitive, you should leave.’”

Leave they did. In response to which Netflix gave an explanation that is so predictable as to be a cliche: “The movie has ridiculous in the title for a reason: because it is ridiculous. It is a broad satire of Western movies and the stereotypes they popularized, featuring a diverse cast that is not only part of—but in on—the joke.”

First, of course, members of that "diverse cast" walking off set in protest would seem to suggest that they are not, in fact, in on the joke. Second, though, there's the claim that Ridiculous 6 is a "broad satire of Western movies." Which brings us back to the half-life of Sandler's comedy. Is Ridiculous 6 abiding by, or violating, Poe's Law? Has Sandler earned the right to claim, as Netflix does on his behalf, the moral amnesty of satire?

Has Sandler earned the right to claim, as Netflix does on his behalf, the moral amnesty of satire?

Sandler's films—the fart-joke-studded comedies, at any rate, that he's best known for—are, of course, ridiculous. But slapstick and satire are extremely different things. With the Ridiculous 6 controversy, the Sandlerian approach to the world—comedy that is smug and self-deprecating at once, comedy that both celebrates underdogs and revels in the cruelties flung at the them, comedy that is accountable to nothing but itself—is attempting to claim the mantle of cultural criticism. Here is a collection of juvenile jokes, the stuff of the tween boys and locker rooms, colliding with a trend that is sometimes derided as "p.c. culture," but that can also be understood more broadly as empathy culture. Here is Sandler's ethic of whimsical sociopathy being forced to reckon with the occasionally inconvenient fact that movies operate society.

The films of Sandler's "ridiculous" genre do, indeed, violate Poe's law. But that's not because they're offensive. It's because they're insipid. Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore and Grown Ups and Jack and Jill ... these films give no indication that they are self-aware or remotely critical of the subjects they take on. They may deal, if tangentially, with serious topics—race (Blended) and gay marriage (I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry) and, um, the Arab-Israeli conflict (You Don't Mess With the Zohan)—but they lack evidence of the intellectual infrastructure that is a basic requirement of satire.

Compare Sandler's stuff to the work of, say, Louis C.K., whose jokes take on sexism and entitlement and complicated ideas of privilege and the lack of it. Or to the work of Key and Peele or Sarah Silverman or Nick Kroll or Chelsea Peretti or pretty much any other comedian who's ascendant right now. Their films and shows and sets resonate with the culture. The questions society grapples with collectively—matters of race and gender and class—seem to guide them. There's a sense of animating generosity in their work, even when it involves fart jokes.

Sandler's films lack any evidence they're bolstered by the intellectual infrastructure that satire requires.

And then here is Adam Sandler, making a movie whose costumes don't bother to distinguish between the Apache and the Comanche and whose script involves the direction, "Sits-on-Face squats down behind the teepee and pees, while lighting up a peace pipe."

Last year, the Vulture film critic Bilge Ebiri claimed that Sandler "might be the most important comedian of his generation," attributing the importance in large part to "the Sandler persona’s simmering, nuclear self-hate." As an actor, Ebiri noted, Sandler "plays both the shtick and the heart at the same level of non-commitment"—a tendency that "might be annoying to some (okay, many ... fine, most) critics, but it could be the key to Sandler’s appeal. Maybe it’s what makes him more like the average American."

Maybe. The problem is that the indolent sense of self-loathing extends, in Sandler's films, beyond the characters he plays. The loathing here is equal-opportunity. Fat jokes. Asian jokes. Women jokes. Everyone is a target; and the impression this gives is not of Sandler as a kind of omnivorous satirist, but rather of Sandler as someone who is willfully unthinking about his mockery of other people. As the Chicago Tribune's Michael Phillips put it, "People of color, to say nothing of women, who have been marginalized, patronized or humiliated by a stupid joke in an Adam Sandler movie over the last few years constitute the biggest club in modern Hollywood. And until last week, that club was one of the least heralded, if only because its members have been putting up with the demeaning treatment for a century."

They aren't anymore. And that's a good thing for filmmaking, even if it's less of a good thing for the making of Ridiculous 6. Sandler's comedy is based, above everything else, on entitlement. Even his slapstickiest characters suggest that the sheer fact of wanting—a woman, an inheritance, a trophy—is enough to entitle them to the objects of their desire. They are privileged, like Sandler himself, but they do the worst thing one can do with privilege: They take it for granted. Netflix's defense of its collaboration with Sandler is similar in its blithe self-absorption: The whole project is proposing to avenge a group of people who have long found themselves on the receiving end of Hollywood's mockery by way of jokes about peepees and teepees. The filmmakers are defining "satire" according to the people telling the jokes—rather than the people who are meant to be doing the laughing.

The Ruins of Nepal

Nepalis started fleeing their devastated capital of Kathmandu on April 27 after Saturday's earthquake killed more than 3,700 people and toppled entire city blocks. The United Nations has launched a massive aid operation, but severed communications and landslides in the Himalayan nation pose formidable challenges. Residents of Kathmandu are in need of almost everything - shelter, fuel, food, medicine, power, news, workers, and more. People are searching for lost loved ones, sorting through rubble for their belongings, and struggling to meet their families' needs. The earthquake was the worst to hit the South Asian nation in over 80 years, strong enough to be felt across parts of India, Bangladesh, Tibet, and Pakistan.

People Don't Know What's Healthy

Soft-drink purists have just a few months to scoop up as much Pepsi as possible: Starting in August, a new formulation of the soda is hitting store shelves.

PepsiCo announced last week that it's replacing the aspartame in Diet Pepsi with sucralose, the sweetener marketed under the brand name Splenda.

The reason for the change? "Customer worries" that aspartame isn't safe.

“Aspartame is the number-one reason consumers are dropping diet soda,” Seth Kaufman, a vice president at Pepsi, said.

That might be consumers' reason, but it's not a scientific one. As Julia Belluz points out at Vox, the European Food Safety Authority recently conducted a risk assessment on aspartame and "ruled out a potential risk of aspartame causing damage to genes and inducing cancer." Aspartame is not proven to cause bladder cancer, or brain cancer, or behavior problems, or any other diet-soda old-wives tales.

With the move, Pepsi becomes the latest in a string of food companies that have altered their recipes to include supposedly healthier ingredients based on pressure from nutrition-conscious consumers. These customer demands, however, have not tended to be supported by medical research.

Ben & Jerry's has been phasing genetically modified ingredients out of its products, and last year the company "ceremonially renamed" one of its ice-cream flavors to “Food Fight Fudge Brownie" as a show of support for

Selling the Fantasy of High-Protein Everything

“Coke is taking a food that's wholesome—milk—and unnecessarily taking it apart and putting it back together, all the while charging more for its ‘services,’” Melanie Warner, the author of Pandora’s Lunchbox: How Processed Food Took Over the American Meal, told my colleague Joe Pinsker. “I don't think this is a product anyone should get excited about.”

There's nothing inherently good about these changes, but there's nothing terrible about them either. Splenda might not be any better than aspartame, but it's probably not any worse, either. GMOs are in 80 percent of our food, so eating a non-GMO burrito bowl or Chunky Monkey cone won't make much of a dent.

If consumers really wanted to make packaged food healthier, they could pressure snack companies to produce smaller portions, or to not market so aggressively to children.

Of course, those types of changes aren't as likely to "rain money" for investors, as Coke's global chief customer officer said he hopes Fairlife milk will. American sales of Diet Pepsi tumbled 5 percent last year, so with the recipe change perhaps PepsiCo executives are praying for a similar deluge.

Mad Men: The End of a Dream

Every week for the seventh and final season of AMC's hit period-drama Mad Men, Sophie Gilbert, David Sims, and Lenika Cruz will discuss the possible fates facing Don Draper and those in his orbit.

Sims: After a meandering start to the half-season, Mad Men finally kicked into a higher gear with "Time & Life," finding new energy (perhaps unsurprisingly) with a story that was about the firm, rather than Don's depressing love life. Much of the episode echoed some of the series' greatest moments, like the third-season finale, "Shut the Door, Have a Seat," which saw Don and company break away from their firm to create Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, or even the mid-season finale last year where Roger convinced McCann Erickson to acquire the company; a decision that came full circle here.

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Alerted by the fact that their office lease had been unceremoniously terminated, the partners learned they were going to be absorbed into McCann Erickson, the giant advertising conglomerate they'd resisted joining for so long (remember, that third-season declaration of independence came when their last firm was absorbed by McCann). So Don, Roger, Pete, Joan and Ted set about trying to engineer one last great escape, a jump to the California office with a few tasty clients who'd otherwise be lost due to conflicts of interest. As it historically has in the past, the intrigue of advertising-firm politics offered a much needed kick in the pants for the energy and pace of the show.

“Time & Life” had the same melancholy tone as all of the recent episodes, with the main characters recalling happier times while nervously regarding the future. But it had a less depressing quality to it, even as the partner’s plans collapsed around them. McCann finally had enough of Sterling-Cooper’s quasi-independent status and expensive rent at the Time Life Building, and the CEO told the five partners that it was time for them to come into the fold. In the episode’s best scene, he dropped client names like Coca-Cola and Nabisco as if reciting holy liturgy, and the camera lingered on SC&P’s five partners sitting in sad silence, a mirror image of the shot of their backs in their new, unfurnished office building years ago, gazing out onto the city.

Now, the choice for everyone is a somewhat fraught one (although let’s not forget the partners are all millionaires, so they’ll be fine no matter what). Don, Roger, Pete, Joan, and Ted are all prevented from working anywhere else because of non-compete clauses, so they have to decide now whether to embrace McCann's corporate structure or bid advertising goodbye. For Joan, this could mean more of the egregious treatment she received from McCann flunkies over Topaz. For Don and Roger, it could signal a loss of the independence they’ve craved for so many years. Ted seems quietly happy to be robbed of the responsibility that’s so often tortured him, while Pete continues to live his sad divorced life—his biggest moment of triumph this week was justly punching a snooty private-school administrator in the face.

“Time & Life” gave the real sense that it was saying goodbye, especially as the partners had one last drink together, toasting their final failed escape attempt and pondering their futures. It also finally offered a real sense of high stakes, rather than just reminding viewers of the empty life Don leads—echoed with a sad, but tremendously well-handled scene where Peggy confronted the decision to give up her child for adoption, possibly passing up the opportunity to have kids once and for all. But if there’s a final romantic pairing to cheer for as the series draws to a close, it might be her and Stan. Sophie, what did you make of Peggy’s admission this week, and the larger crumbling of SC&P?

Gilbert: I agree, David, that this was a much better episode than the past two, mainly because, much like The Avengers franchise, the show works better when it harnesses the combined power of its various superheroes. For the past two episodes, we’ve seen an awful lot of sad-sack Don facing his empty apartment and his empty future, and as charismatic as Jon Hamm is, it got a wee bit stifling. Instead, “Time & Life” showed the five partners at their best: Don crafting a Hail Mary pass to move the entire firm to the West Coast, Pete punching an elementary-school principal over a centuries-long clan rivalry (how weird was that entire scene!), Roger and Joan colluding to try and snatch away three major clients in 24 hours, and Ted … well, Ted having his eyes light up at the sound of a pharmaceutical account, as only Ted's eyes could do.

I liked, too, the way the episode referenced buried secrets from episodes long ago. There was Peggy’s conversation with Stan (more on that later), but also Roger’s confession to Don that Margaret is “the only daughter of an only son of an only son,” and that his family line dies with her. (Never mind sweet, blonde Kevin, his rightful heir: Let’s hope that redeye-hopping Richard is a better father figure for Kevin than Roger and his mustache could have been.* The show certainly seems to be suggesting that he’ll be a better partner for Joan in the long term.)

Much like The Avengers franchise, the show works better when it harnesses the combined power of its heroes.

As for Peggy, the juxtaposition of her trying manfully to talk to a room full of ordinary children like adults and then being grasped in a bear hug by a young actress was pretty funny, but the scene where she confided in Stan after getting unexpectedly attached to the child abandoned in the SC&P lobby was pitch perfect. “I’m here, and … he’s with a family somewhere,” she said. “It’s not because I don’t care. I don’t know because you’re not supposed to know, or you can’t go on with your life.” The scene was exquisitely paced, from Stan’s gentle but hypnotic prompting to Peggy’s jolt back to self-control at the very end.

This sense of abandonment is one that’s been dredged up a lot recently, particularly with Diana, who it seemed might pop up at any moment like a Chekhovian diner waitress. Margaret, Roger’s daughter, abandoned her own husband and child to go live in a commune. Marie Calvet, it seems, has left her husband and family to shack up with Roger. Lou, obviously, is abandoning the firm to move to Tokyo and pursue his cartoon dreams. And then there was the final, rather glorious scene of watching the various employees of SC&P walk out on their bosses after learning they’d been effectively sold out. For a show that’s always emphasized power as currency, watching the five partners see the visible manifestation of their loss in status was fascinating. They might have their millions, and they might be in advertising heaven now, but to people who’ve put such a premium on getting respect for so long, it looked a lot like hell.

There’s so much else I want to unpack—the parallels between Pete and Trudy pushing their daughter into Greenwich Country Day (with Tammy’s idea of a man being a head with a necktie and a mustache) and the stage mothers pushing their daughters into showbusiness. The way Don’s eyes briefly lit up when he heard the whispered “Coca-Cola.” The mythic significance of California for Don, and how it maybe represents a kind of liberation from the class anxiety he feels so acutely on the East Coast? But I’ll finish with a close reading of the four accounts SC&P wanted to start afresh with: Dow Chemicals (manufacturer of Napalm, breast implants, and pesticides, among other things), Sunkist, Peter Pan peanut butter, and Secor Laxatives.

My thinking as we approach the end is that for seven seasons, Matthew Weiner has been poking holes in the mythology of the American Dream—the idea that having stuff, no matter how wholesome and American and nostalgic that stuff might appear to be, can make you happy. The reverent prospect of Coca-Cola as Don’s newest account feels like the culmination of all of that—it’s something that’s sugary sweet, American as hell, and ultimately horribly bad for the people who ingest it in ever larger quantities. This is the dream Don’s been selling for the duration of his career. Is it any wonder he’s left pondering the meaning of it?

Cruz: “What’s in a name?” Don’s offhand Shakespeare reference picked up on something you referenced, Sophie, which I think this episode touched on in various ways—a fixation with names, the history they hold, and the legacies they symbolize. “Time & Life” began with Ken disagreeing with Pete over labeling a bathroom cleaner a “germ-killer” because the latter “makes people think of poop.” (Vincent Kartheiser again proved himself the master of hilariously flustered one-liners). From this subtle start, the show delved into Pete’s personal life: It turned out little Tammy’s future hinged not on her parents’ marriage status, but on her father’s last name and his family’s supposed Hatfield-and-McCoy-esque rivalry with the McDonalds (bizarre, indeed).

While the dissolving of SC&P connotes so much—including, as you mentioned David, the forfeiting of independence and the small-guy stature the firm thrived on—it also means a loss of identity. The firm’s name, to be fair, has changed so much over the years. When the show first began, it was Sterling Cooper. It later became Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, then just Sterling Cooper and Partners (even though Bert died). Now it won’t even be SC&P, “a division of McCann Erickson”: The building will be different, the people will largely be the same, but the name will be gone entirely, all of which inevitably gestures at some grander ontological implications. Let’s not forget the biggest instance of this: the Dick Whitman/Don Draper transformation.

The dissolving of SC&P connotes a loss of identity—the name will be gone entirely.

The loss of a name doesn’t just matter for the present, for convenience’s sake, for the face you present to the world now—it matters for the future. In both Roger and Pete’s cases, they have secret sons by colleagues who won’t be able to bear their family name (and daughters from their non-secret marriages who won’t, either). Hence the surprising number of children this episode featured (and the Draper children weren’t even involved!). Peggy’s awkwardness around kids is, of course, borne of genuine inexperience, but also a painful kind of cognitive dissonance, given her son. But she finally got to articulate something the show had vigorously implied for ages: “No one should be able to make a mistake just like a man does and not be able to move on. She should be able to live the rest of her life just like a man does.” That Peggy the workhorse let herself have a moment of vulnerability translated into a rare moment of genuine emotional connection with Stan—and one of the best scenes of the episode.

But back to the firm. Sophie, you mentioned the final scene, which like so many other moments in this episode seemed to allude to past moments from the show (the final rally to save the firm, the big meeting where the account executives woo the clients over). But those earlier moments tended to have a far more victorious, self-assured air, whereas the conclusion of “Time & Life” felt cruelly deflated. As did the meeting where Don, the steamrolling charmer, was told to put his presentation boards away and sit down.

As the employee chatter drowned out Roger’s words, it became clear that he and the others had lost control of the message. In an industry where defining the conversation is all that matters, the SC&P partners have haplessly surrendered everything—to both McCann and their lower-level staff. The marquee luster of names like Nabisco and Coca-Cola has faded, and all that remains is the harsh fluorescence of their soon-to-be-vacated offices. It finally feels like Mad Men is starting its final goodbye, and “Time & Life” did a terrific job of showing how difficult and refreshingly honest that goodbye is going to be.

Game of Thrones' Riskiest Marriage Plot Yet

Spencer Kornhaber, Christopher Orr, and Amy Sullivan discuss the latest episode of Game of Thrones.

Orr: Wait a minute. There’s a royal wedding—and nobody dies a horrible death? A man is beheaded—and we can all agree that it was for the best? What the hell show am I watching? I came here for Game of Thrones, baby, not Wizards of Waverly Place.

I kid, of course. Given David Benioff and D.B. Weiss’s tendency to take George R. R. Martin’s material and render it even more bloody than it already was, I’m actually mildly relieved that they didn’t throw in a random homicide just to spice up the nuptials of Margaery and young Tommen, First of His Name.

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They did, however, substantially spice up the newlyweds’ sex life. “Surely four times is enough,” sighs an exhausted Margaery. Surely. Oh well, it beats the aforementioned alternative. Make love, not war, and all that.

In tonight’s episode, Benioff and Weiss also launched their most ambitious departure from the books to date, with Littlefinger’s plot to marry Sansa to Ramsay Bolton. I have several thoughts on this, so I’ll save it for last.

“High Sparrow” opens with Arya discovering that life in the House of Black and White is not nearly as much fun as she thought it would be. “I didn’t come here to sweep floors,” she complains to Jaqen H’ghar. “No?” he replies. “Why come then?” Zing! At least Arya has such treats in store as getting smacked around by a blind girl and sponge-bathing a dead guy. Ah, the glamorous life of a faceless assassin …

Speaking of glamour, I’m glad that Lord Commander Jon Snow has finally gotten around to the issue we’ve been waiting for lo these many seasons: the new latrine pit. For an eternity, the Night’s Watch has been distracting itself with White Walkers and Wildling armies and Craster’s Keep mutineers, when all along priority number one ought to have been where to put Number Two. When a Crow’s gotta go, a Crow’s gotta go.

More dramatically, Jon took off the head of Janos Slynt, a man whose head has needed taking off since he was commander of the Gold Cloaks way back in King’s Landing. With that swing of the sword, Jon also came full circle from the very first episode of the series, in which he watched Papa Ned do the same to a Night’s Watch deserter. (That scene was echoed in last week’s beheading in Meereen, too, right down to the line, “the law is the law.”) Jon’s scene with Stannis and Ser Davos was a good one as well. As I’ve mentioned before, doings at the Wall have gotten a lot more interesting since Stannis’s arrival.

Back in Essos, our aerial introduction to Volantis made impressive use of the show’s CGI budget. Last week I compared Braavos to Venice; am I wrong to think that Volantis has a hint of Florence to it? Regardless, it was not hard to predict that Tyrion’s wanderings through the city would end poorly. And has anyone else noticed that the word “greyscale” is coming up an awful lot? There was last week’s convo between Shireen and Gilly, and now Tyrion’s commentary while watching the Red Priestess. Could it be connected to Tyrion’s sudden, unexpected aversion to nookie in the brothel? (That would be another substantial alteration from the books.) Maybe not. But with all this foreshadowing, surely somebody is going to come down with a bad case of Stone-Maningitis.

If it were up to Cersei, of course, that somebody would be Margaery, who for the first time fully outranks her both politically and in Tommen’s affections. Margaery has always seemed a more nuanced schemer than Cersei—she knows, for example, that soft power is as important as hard—but I’d still be careful about taunting the Queen Mother (or Dowager Queen) quite so openly: “I wish we had some wine for you …” Regardless, it’s going to be fun to watch the two of them go at it.

And as long as I’m discussing Cersei’s scheming ability, it’s hard not to question the wisdom of her evidently making common cause with the High Sparrow (or as the Brazil fan in me insists on calling him, in Ian Holm’s voice, “Sam Lowry”). Allying yourself with a religious fanatic who despises hypocrisy when you are yourself a twincestuous adulterer who had your husband killed—what could possibly go wrong?

Two other quick thoughts on King’s Landing. First, did anyone else get a kick out of Pycelle’s profoundly self-serving comment re: the High Septon: “A man’s private affairs ought to stay private.” (Back in season two, he was the one being dragged from the arms of a Littlefinger employee and humiliated with a beard-shaving.) Also, is it just me, or did the body twitching noisily on Qyburn’s slab remind anyone else of a second-rate haunted house?

It was nice to see Brienne finally be nice to loyal old Pod, but given all the ground we need to cover, I could have lived without the backstory about her Bad Night at the Junior Prom.

Which brings me at last back to the new Sansa plotline. It was unpleasant enough to see the sigil of the Flayed Man (plus, actual flayed men) hanging over Winterfell. But that sight paled next to the brutal cut from Lord Roose’s “I’ve found the perfect girl to solidify our hold on the North” to the elder Stark girl. There are two ways this story can go—one good and one bad—and my best guess is that it will be a mix of the two.

If we have to go through scene after scene of Sansa being brutally abused by Ramsay, my thumb is going to grow a fast-forward callus.

Let’s start with the good. In the books, Sansa is never a lick of use to anyone, except as an unwitting poisoned-jewelry delivery device. (Let us not forget that she’s the one who got her father killed in season one by blabbing to Cersei.) Even in a new, as-yet-unpublished chapter that George R. R. Martin put online a few weeks ago, Sansa was still busy learning Remedial Conspiracy back in the Eyrie. So if the new Dark Sansa is ready to spread her wings, scheme a little scheme, and exact revenge on the Boltons (and anyone else), I’m all for it.

But—but—if in order to get there we have to go through scene after scene of her being brutally abused by Ramsay, my thumb is going to grow a fast-forward callus. As we’ve discussed on many occasions (including, um, the top of this post), the single error Benioff and Weiss make most frequently is cranking up the violence, sex, and—worst of all—sexual violence. It’s what caused them to stumble into the Jaime-Cersei rape of last season. It also led them to document Ramsay’s torture and mutilation of Theon (which in the books takes place “offscreen”) at gruesome, interminable length, in all its horn-tooting, sausage-eating glory.

To replay any of this horror with Sansa would be doubly redundant, given that she has already been abused by a fiancé (Joffrey) who was a psycho-sexual sadist. Enough is enough. If Benioff and Weiss go down this path again, it will be a terrible confirmation of their greatest failing as showrunners. But there’s some evidence (e.g., these comments by Iwan Rheon, who plays Ramsay; and these by Sophie Turner, who plays Sansa) that that may be exactly where we’re headed.

On a slightly more narrow note, there are also two ways to read Littlefinger’s peculiar exchange with Ramsay, in which the former confesses “I’ve heard very little about you.” I’m praying that this is a ruse to set Ramsay at ease, and that Petyr Baelish knows full well of his monstrous reputation. Because if we’re to believe it’s actually true that Littlefinger knows nothing about the notorious flay-addict of the North, and engages Sansa to him without bothering to find out—well, that’s just stupid. So, offering the benefit of the doubt, I’m going to assume it’s a ruse.

But I’ve gone on too long. What do you guys think is in store for Sansa? Who’s going to come out on top between Cersei and Margaery? And most important: Will the new latrine be a success?

Kornhaber: Of course the new latrine will be a success, Chris: It exists for one, clear, eternally-in-demand purpose. In that and that alone, perhaps the living might envy inanimate sewage facilities. All men must serve, as Jaquen H’gar reminds his new janitor, but it’s often a challenge to figure out who to serve and how. The House of Black and White dramatizes this fact by asking Arya to swab floors and bodies in silence, for no known purpose. But she wasn't the only one to ponder questions of duty in this episode: Sansa accepted an awful marriage proposal in hopes of eventual justice; Brienne and Podrick revealed how they acquired their lifelong debts of gratitude; Jon considered the idea that, per Davos, "the best way to help the most people might not be sitting in a frozen castle at the end of the world."

Jon also imposed some duties upon his new subordinates, and in doing so showed a Tywinesque level of cunning. First, Stannis advises the Lord Commander to banish Alliser Thorne to a hardship posting, perhaps demonstrating why he's among the most unloved men in the land. But Snow has a better read of the situation, and knows that Thorne’s rage stems from wounded pride. Humiliating him in the latrines would only worsen his grudge; sending him to Greyguard or Eastwatch by the Sea would put an enemy out of sight but not out of mind. Instead, Jon de-thorns Alliser (sorry) by elevating him to First Ranger and orders to Siberia the true liability of the Night’s Watch, that jerkly coward (or is it cowardly jerk?) Ser Janos. When Janos balks, Jon grimly aces the test of his authority. The only potential misstep I see from the new Crow leader is letting Olly listen in on discussions that might result in mercy for the same Wildlings that murdered and cannibalized the boy’s family.

Cersei, too, made a tricky administrative decision in this episode, imprisoning the High Septon of sex games. You may be right, Chris, that she’s risking a lot in ditching a false believer for a true one. But who can feel threatened by a barefooted, smiling Jonathan Pryce, making cracks about “lord Duckling”? Besides, Cersei knows that she could use a few more allies in Margaery-mad King's Landing. For the second week in a row, I must rave about Lena Headey: As Cersei’s mournful rage has cooled into survival-mode dread, the actress has traded snarls and lip curls for a brittle, thin smile. When the royal newlyweds’ alter kiss parted to reveal Cersei straining to perform joy, and when her peace overture to her new daughter-in-law was met with barely veiled taunts and handmaiden giggles, I felt sharp pangs of empathy for this fundamentally monstrous person.

Speaking of sharp feelings, Varys did not successfully impart fear of capture into his traveling companion, but he did in me. Hearing Tyrion brag in the brothel about always paying his debts was excruciating. Of course he'd be noticed by someone like Jorah Mormont, whiling away his days leering at a prostitute-impersonator of the One True Ruler Who Got Away. Chris, you wondered whether a disease kept Tyrion from consummating, but I'd assumed that he was afflicted with nothing more than lust-busting remorse over Shae. If only the sadness had snapped him to his senses rather than sending him to a vulnerable peeing post.

In the real world and in Thrones, true egalitarianism is a radical idea, and radical ideas produce fanatics.

In yet other uncontrollable emotions: I literally booed at the screen when director Mark Mylod cut from Roose’s marriage discussion with Ramsay to a shot of Sansa riding with Littlefinger. Chris, you say this is twist is Benioff and Weiss's biggest addition yet; I say it's a thematically perfect stroke of genius that I desperately don't want to watch unfold. How horrible that Sansa is now betrothed to the only psychopath worse than the one she was originally set to marry, one whose father betrayed and murdered her mother and brother. A revenge mission is a tantalizing prospect, but I’d have wanted Sansa to secure more assurances and more of a plan from Baelish before riding down to meet the Boltons. Then again, she knows by now not to trust her creepy pseudo-uncle; he showed his callousness yet again when he offered to let Roose “inspect” Sansa to confirm her virginity—ew. If she’s going to get justice for the Red Wedding, she'd be better off enlisting help from friends of the kindly lady who told her that “the North remembers.”

The notion of an oppressed population and a perpetual pawn rising up against the wicked and powerful would be right in line with the other big theme of the episode—equality as a force for change. The High Sparrow preaches that no one is special; the red priestess of Volantis assures that the Lord of Light “hears the king as he hears the slave”; the Faceless Men seem to seek transcendence by giving up their identity. All three religions offer alternatives to the violent hierarchies that rule Westeros; Cersei is probably mistaken when she says “the faith and the crown are the two pillars that hold up this world—one collapses, so does the other." In the real world and in Thrones, total egalitarianism is a radical idea, and radical ideas threaten rulers and produce fanatics.

Arya would like to be one of those fanatics, but my guess is that she won't go all the way into facelessness. When she hid Needle rather than drown it, it was a bit of a relief—a sign that for however much she talks about wanting to be just A Girl, some part of her peppy personality, not to mention her personal vendettas, will survive. Or is that just wishful thinking?

Sullivan: I’m sorry, did you say something, Spencer? I’m still in shock about Sansa and [shudder] Ramsay. This is your idea of saving her, Littlefinger? I’ll bet Sansa already regrets turning down Brienne’s offer of protection. Even a faux knight with a dodgy record of success would be better than being left alone with Satan’s spawn. That pan from a trying-to-look-charming-instead-of-insane Ramsay welcoming Sansa over to the line of women who know his true nature was chilling. I do hope the Boltons at least took down the string of flayed bodies for Sansa’s homecoming.

The only possible way I could approve of this new plot development is if it ends with Jon getting word of Sansa’s presence at Winterfell and riding back home to save her, vows be damned. I want that family back together!

I did appreciate the callback to the show’s premiere, as the Boltons lined up to receive Sansa and Baelish. Winterfell is much changed from those days when the whole Stark family gathered to greet King Robert—and winter itself is closing fast.

A second reminder of that very first episode came after the cut from Jon at the Wall to Arya in Braavos, preparing to toss every reminder of her old life into the sea. But as you note, Spencer, she can’t quite do it, and hides Needle. That’s our best indicator that Arya won’t become simply A Girl. If you’ll remember back, Jon had the blacksmith at Winterfell make Needle for Arya, and he presented her with it before leaving for the Night’s Watch. I want to think she was remembering that connection and couldn’t completely sever the past.

We have turned the corner, and the story may start bringing characters back together and building toward the ending.

Back in Kings Landing, I continue to share your pangs for Cersei, Spencer. Her humiliation by Margaery was almost worse than the dressing-down from Uncle Kevan last week. First the new queen calls her a drunk in front of other mean girls—“Mother, welcome! I wish we had some wine for you—it’s a bit early in the day for us.” Then Margaery just has to bring up how much sex she and baby boy Tommen are having. But that parting shot—“What’s the proper way to address you now? Queen mother or Dowager queen?” That was ice cold. As Cersei strode away, trying to maintain her dignity while the mean girls tittered, I felt keenly how powerless she is now.

The less said about Tommen and Margaery’s bedroom scenes, the better. Isn’t he like eight years old? What happened to the boy who just wanted to hang out with his beloved furball Ser Pounce? Manipulating this new king is hardly a worthy challenge for Margaery. It’s embarrassing, really. He’s head-over-heels. You like to sail? Me, too! That’s crazy! We’re are so totally soul mates. Just a few well-placed “But you’ll always be her baby boy” and “It’s no wonder she’s so protective of you—she’ll never let you out of her sight” comments, and Tommen is all but tossing his mother in a carriage bound for Casterly Rock.

The third callback from the premiere was, of course, Jon’s execution of Ser Janos, no doubt remembering Ned Stark’s words upon killing a deserter from the Night’s Watch: “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” It was excruciating to watch Jon’s face as Janos begged for mercy with his head on the stump. But not as excruciating as the actual act. Since the premiere aired in 2011, the world has endured too many videos of terrorists beheading hostages. That fact took me out of the scene as I watched, and tainted Jon’s act in a way surely not intended by the show’s creators.

I would like to think that these references to the show’s beginnings mean that we have turned the corner and that the story will be more concentrated on bringing characters back together and building toward the ending than separating them and establishing more worlds. That seems like a good thing. But as Tyrion learned this week, getting what you think you want does not always work out. Oh, to be stuck back in that traveling box with laugh-a-minute Varys! Better than hanging out with Ramsay, Tyrion. In the Games of Thrones, no matter how bad your situation, at least you always know someone else has it worse.

The Earthquake Nepal Saw Coming

Hours after a major earthquake wreaked havoc across his country, Nepali Information Minister Minendra Rijal appeared at a news conference on Saturday to announce that schools would be closed for the next five days. "We never imagined we'd face such devastation," he said.

But for geologists, Saturday's disaster—which has claimed over 2,400 lives—was sadly predictable.

"Physically and geologically what happened is exactly what we thought would happen," James Jackson, head of the earth-sciences department at the University of Cambridge, told the Associated Press.

The source of Nepal's beauty is what makes it vulnerable to earthquakes.

Blessed with stunning natural scenery, Nepal is a popular tourist destination that attracts hundreds of thousands of travelers each year. But the source of the country's beauty is what makes it particularly vulnerable to earthquakes. Much of Nepal's population lives in a valley beneath the Himalayas, a mountain range formed by collisions between the Indian and Central Asian tectonic plates. These collisions—which occur when the Indian plate slides underneath its much larger neighbor—are what cause earthquakes. According to The Washington Post, a chunk of the earth measuring 75 by 37 miles shifted 10 feet in 30 seconds on Saturday, destroying much of what lay atop the surface.

Earthquakes are endemic to Nepal because of this geology, and major tremors occur roughly every 70 years. But Nepal's socioeconomic situation is what made Saturday's quake so deadly. One of Asia's poorest countries, Nepal is also one of its most rapidly urbanizing—the population of Kathmandu, Nepal's capital, grows by 6.5 percent each year. Many newly urbanized Nepalis live in hastily built structures that lack adequate protection from earthquakes, and much of the city's existing housing stock was constructed before building codes were established. The collapse of these homes drives up casualty numbers. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, an earthquake of similar magnitude in California, a developed region that enforces strict building codes, would be as much as 100 times less fatal.

Nepal has adopted some measures to educate its population about the risk of earthquakes. But political gridlock has prevented greater progress. A bill to set up a Disaster Risk Management Commission is stalled in Nepal's parliament and, according to the Nepali journalist Kunda Dixit, emphasizes post-disaster relief instead of preventive measures. Building codes are only intermittently enforced, and developers often balk at paying extra for earthquake-proof materials. And in a country plagued by poverty and political instability, earthquake preparedness is not always a top priority—even when the government knows that a major disaster is imminent.

"They knew they had a problem but it was so large they didn't [know] where to start, how to start," Hari Kumar, Southeast Asia regional coordinator for Geohazards International, a group that works on worldwide quake risks, told the AP.

The scope of Saturday's disaster means that recovery, not prevention, will dominate Nepal's agenda in the months and years ahead. But as the country rebuilds, its mission will be to ensure that the next major earthquake—whenever it occurs—will be far less deadly.