The sun is out and the long night has ended. In truth, the last episode of the Game of Thrones (GoT to newbies) has concluded itself with a somewhat Pythonesque ending.
“Eh, f*** it, let’s have a party,” the writers and producers could have paraphrased.
So, those who were left standing basically got the chance to takepart in an elongated credit-roll with bits of them that will leave a lasting embrace.
Disappointed? Yes…ish. Surprised…no, not really.
Endings are difficult even when you have written and done shitloads, ask Stephen King (stupid thing to say).
During the course of yesterday, Niki Lauda died. He had almost died once before but came back to show the world of Formula 1 just how good he was in the driver’s seat. His near death experience had some similarities to Jon Snow’s, only Jon the bastard (not) did die and then came back only to fall in love with a close family relative, have sex again, and then discover that his aunty was not just a hottie but also a megalomaniacal walking Christ Complex.
” I will make it better for all,” she could have paraphrased. “Even if they don’t like it.”
In the end, she was stabbed in the front and carried off by a dragon. Niki, back in our world, just died quietly in his sleep at the age of 70; much too young.