She tries to put a brave face on things, spinning the constant phone ringing as "excitement" about the big DGD meeting tonight and not pants-shitting angry fear. Gran segues into asking about Sookie's non-date last night, and Sookie snorts. "Am I really that much of a lost cause, you gotta pin all your hopes for me on a vampire?" Instead of telling her to stop being a bitch, Adele just says that Bill's a nice man. Sookie hisses that he's neither. "I know that if I had a chance to know somebody who'd experienced the world differently, I'd see it as a blessing and not something to be scared of. Or hate." Man, she's awesome. But between that hilarious phone signoff a second ago and this little speech now, I'm thinking there's a bell tolling somewhere. Oh no, it's right here: the phone ringing and ringing even as Sookie's saying, "I don't hate him, I just don't want to be his girlfriend." Adele pretends she can't hear it, and then when Sookie insists that it's actually ringing, assures her the machine will get it.
It's interesting because both of these scenes are saying the same thing, which is: your world is getting bigger. You are getting bigger. The only scary part is the doing; the world on the other side is pretty much just like right now, only slightly awesomer. If you've seen American Beauty and/or watched Six Feet Under, marshal those forces now, because we're about to watch two different shows. One of them, the show I'm comfortable watching, takes place in a world where nothing is scary, just unknown. Drugs in and of themselves are not evil, because that's just some shit Nancy shoved down our throat she didn't even believe herself, so she'd feel like less of a hypocrite about her husband selling our country and our world for magic beans. Sex is not in and of itself evil, etc. There are a million ways the human body can be employed that we don't know about yet, and I'm not interested in trying most of them, but I can't see why it matters what somebody else does and if I'm okay with that.
The other is a show I'm less interested in watching, which is one in which sex, death and drugs are so terrible and unnatural and ugly that we can't even talk about them, or look at them in a particular context or from a particular angle, because they all mean the same thing, for everybody, for all time. What Jason Stackhouse needs most is a horse to ride, through the wilderness, because what he is, is terribly sad and terribly afraid, and walking takes too long. Lafayette knows that he needs a horse, and knows the perfect solution to the question that is plaguing Jason. Because what Jason's never, ever done, in the midst of all that fucking, is understand why we do it.