Serena: "I always thought it was Dorota, and then I thought it was Eric for a little bit, and then I thought it was Rufus."
Dan: "Like my dad could ever be this awesome."
Uncle Jack: "Wait, it wasn't Jenny?"
Everybody laughs, drunk and oblivious and entitled. If you're never really alive, you can never really die. Vile bodies sprawled across the salon, chirruping and chuckling at the six years of mental torture Dan has put them through. One might wish that this, this final shitty piece of revenge on them for being born, would fix him. Perhaps it has. Or perhaps in trying to make himself over in their image, he has provided a dark mirror to us all. All I know is, these people were pretty cool before Dan got ahold of 'em.
Serena: "Blair, I think you're just mad because Dan was the one who was pulling the strings all along."
Dan: "This whole time, I had more power than you!"
Blair pulls out a gun and shoots him thirty-six times in the abdomen. Each more deserved than the last.
Serena: "But what he did with that power was write a love letter. Not just to me, but to all of us. Mostly Chuck."
Nobody: "If this is your idea of love, then you deserve every fucking thing he's ever done to you."
I remember prior to watching the pilot of Apt 23 I thought, "How neat would it be, if this show were about the Bitch in Apartment 23 doing something that seemed really horrible, until the end of the episode the other girl realizes she has learned something?" And that's kind of how that show has gone. Gossip Girl healed them, saved them, changed them into adults. But not because Dan is a good guy, because he's not: It's because bad things are how you get awesome.
A lot of the smarter comic books, and comic book movies, have set that up too, of late: The reveal at the end is that the bad guy did it all so that you would become a better hero. And you know, I was quite taken with this idea in the '90s, the idea that if I only learn about myself through the darker moments, maybe that's true of everybody, and so there's something to the idea of supervillains.
And then too, you may remember a show several years ago in which people would be hooked up to lie detectors and asked more and more personal questions. I remember seeing universal horror in response, and being so confused by it: That doesn't sound like torture to me, it sounds like church. You're only as sick as your secrets, right? It sounds like the most beautiful thing imaginable, just being given the opportunity to come clean.