Weeds

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Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now!
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Did Newton Need Blake?

The last chord fades. The night is cold and fine.
His master's voice rasps through the grooves' bare groves.
Obediently, in silence like the grave's
He sleeps there on the still-warm gramophone...

You could get to hate yourself, jumping to your master's voice every time it calls. It's all we ever do: pain and loss, grief and need, loneliness and madness. The only difference between Doug and Nancy is that she's just doing it to herself. Or she was, until she looked that girl in the eye. It kept spinning around, coming back to the same mistakes and the same place over and over, like a broken record on a broken Victrola, and like with any addiction the question was: how do you stop the record spinning? How do you keep from ending up in the same place?

"How did this happen? What did I do?" You had boys. "Can I just see one boob?" Is that rape? "Do you like to party?" Depends on the party. "When did the floodgates open?" When the water got here. "Give it up! Let's go to hell!" It's the water gets you clean again, too. Every life is a Rubik's Cube, and Esteban's right: you can never completely solve it. But we live, and we try.

A little dog revolving round a spindle...
Gives rise to harmonies beyond belief,
A cast of stars . . . . Is there in Victor's heart
No honey for the vanquished? Art is art.
The life it asks of us is a dog's life.

Outside, on the other side of the glass from us -- and from Ignacio, from Guillermo, from the tunnel, from the truth -- her hands are shaking. She dials, and speaks. That'll be Till. It has to be Till.

She worries at the cube, the puzzle, in a beautiful bower. "Thank you for coming. I know you're busy." She's so sad, and tired. "Guillermo Garcia Gomez." Till sits down, across from her.

He offered to pull her out, so many times, out of the tunnel, but that's what this looks like to an addict: like a monster, like an intervention, like an attack. Like the world coming up at you at 32 feet per second per second, knowing that no matter how fast you talk or dance or how many drugs you do or how many times you get eaten by the lion, you're still going to hit, hard. Law enforcement was always the bad guys, on this show, the same way therapists are always the bad guys, if they're doing it right.

This next part's going to hurt.

Don't forget to vote in our annual Tubey Awards, and find out what's worth your time this fall.

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