God, I hate the apocalypse. Ever notice how the only people who ever want to talk to you about Revelation or Armageddon are either trash or coked up? It's always dudes who think they might be gay, or grad students, or crazy church people, or two of those three. They're so tired, or scared, they can't wait for it to end. For me, I can't imagine anything comforting about all this -- all this! -- ending. The apocalypse is suicidal ideation, and an inability to bear the weight of an infinite and unrecognizable future, but mostly it's just lame.

If the apocalypse comes, that means -- for just a small representative sample -- no more Diet Coke, no more vodka or cigarettes, no more Peter Cary Peterson, no more anything that makes our universe worthwhile. No more Jake Lodwick, for chrissake. No more Bear McCreary. I'd never finish Tender Morsels, which is like all I'm planning on doing tomorrow. No more making my day's schedule in Excel and then watching it slowly fall to shit. What's Lady Gaga's penis wearing this week? I don't know, we all died.

Things total are always going to be awesome, even if you're very tired indeed: Infinity is always bigger than whatever bullshit is bumming you out right this second. In the last five seconds alone you got: 1) a room with really excellent light and beautiful architecture, 2) Alexander Skarsgård's entire body ditto, and 3) Steve Newlin's hair, also ditto. That's like ten things, if you count Eric's separate muscle groups.

Stroppy Stackhouse informs Steve that his prisoner -- a sheriff, mind you, not that she or Steve actually understands what that means -- is free, and "bound to send for help." Steve doesn't even spare her a glance ("I'm not concerned with Godric!"), just turns to the crowd and indicates Eric: any vampire at all will do for the grand celebration, and they got one right here. Sookie stares at Eric, Eric stares at a bunch of crazy white people, and bows his head while Steve looks on, smiling wildly.

And then Eric -- Eric Northman, mind you, in case I didn't make that clear -- offers himself. Head down. "Brothers and sisters, there will be a holy bonfire at dawn," Steve laughs nastily. And I know I always bring Aslan into everything, so I'll spare you, but please.