Bringers are crouched all over some rocks in a cave. Some chisel at the rock. It looks like one of them is welding and another is working a forge or something. In light of what we see at the end of episode, none of this makes a lot of sense. But it looks pretty and sparkly, and I guess that's what counts. First Buffy chats with Father Malarkey. He hasn't brought her good news, and she's disappointed. She then wonders if whatever the hell the Bringers are doing will "do anything." Father Malarkey says they have to "try everything," and First Buffy worries what will happen if Real Buffy gets "it." "It" being undefined at this point. First Buffy tells Malarkey that he's going to kill Buffy and everyone Buffy knows. Talk, talk, talk. Let's see some action, girlie. First Buffy tromps away up some "stone" stairs. Shame on the Foley guys, because she sounds just like she's walking up plywood steps. Father Malarkey celebrates his license to kill: "Hallelujah." What a fuckin' cheeseball character. A murderous misogynist clothed in religious trappings. Is he a Nazi too? Could ME have loaded the deck any more here? Perhaps if they'd added puppy beating and using the carpool lane with only one person in the car, but my point, and I do have one, is that I don't find evil like this chilling or menacing. I find it obvious. I don't really fear the itinerant, murderous misogynist who is obviously loonier than a bushel of howler monkeys. I fear the misogynist who wears the mask of a reasonable, loving man. The misogynist who holds a position of power. Who has the power to affect my life, or the lives of the women I love, or the lives of all my sisters across the world. The misogynist who walks, fully integrated, in a society that condones his actions, or simply looks the other way. And don't tell me that Caleb is a metaphor for that other misogynist, the one we should truly be concerned about. Because I don't believe that the obvious can be a metaphor for the subtle, the hidden. The obvious merely distracts us from the real threat.













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