I loved Breaking Bad. Unlike others who digested it over seven seasons a few years back, I gobbled up all 62 episodes in periodic escapist evenings over a 10 weeks earlier this year.
Like everyone else, I couldn’t get enough of it: the exceptional writing, the unbelievable acting, the rich and tortured characters, the jaw-dropping surprises, and yes, even the gory violence in each and every episode.
At the beginning, I wondered about my fascination with it—blue meth, slit throats, and massive deception—huh? And then I stopped wondering and gave myself over. It was a wonderful 10 weeks. And I hated to see it end.
We settled down a few weeks ago for the very last episode, armed with popcorn, and unimaginably high expectations.
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True to form, it didn’t disappoint—Walt goes out firing, but not before besting his foes in a blaze of intelligent planning and multiple rounds of gunfire, and a final last meeting with his long-suffering wife, Skyler. In this encounter, Walt finally reveals his explanation for why he “broke bad,” and then kept going.
Now, let’s be clear here. I’m do not celebrate cooking meth, shooting people in cold blood, or entangling with cartels of any kind—and I certainly hope the work you choose is law-abiding. But, in the words of WW:
* Photo credit: Jaroh