Okay, The Walking Dead. I’ve been giving you a lot of passes. The horrible, awful accents. The fact that they were right there at the CDC and nobody thought, Hey, maybe we should stop off for some firearms and SUVs before we leave town, seeing as how Decatur has the greatest number of early-model Broncos with mud tires and a gun rack per capita of any municipality in Georgia. The fact that a show called The Walking Dead hasn’t had more than about three actual walking dead an episode since the beginning of the season. The fact that Daryl, basically the only character on the show with any sense, hasn’t been elected boss, general, and emperor-for-life of their little band. The fact that the entire crew could be in Fort Benning by now if they’d just lay off waiting for–and risking their lives over and over again to track down–one kid who, while cute, didn’t follow instructions and has been nothing but a liability. The solid half-hour of taaaalk talktalktalktalktalktalk every. Single. Episode. The awful, horrible accents. You’ve gotten a lot of leeway from me, show.
But we’re halfway through the second season now, and my patience, my willingness to suspend disbelief, and the handle of Popov I keep just for drinking games are all getting low. I got some stuff to say to you, show, and you’re going to hear about it after the jump, wherein there will be spoilers for S02, E06 (Secrets).
So you’ve got this storyline where Lori Grimes is unexpectedly pregnant and despairing over whether to bring a child into a filthy, chaotic, hopeless, joyless, post-zombie-apocalyptic hellworld. You know what? That’s awesome. Seriously, that’s an awesome storyline. I can totally see a person struggling with that under those circumstances, and there’s a ton you can do with that subplot. Good call, show.
So you give Glenn a pony and send him into town (even though y’all do have an actual car, but that’s another complaint for another post) to hit up the pharmacy for…
… a big ol’ handful of abortion pills.
Oh, show.
1. A big packet labeled “Morning After Pill” is like a white soda can labeled “Cola.”
That’s… just not what they look like. Plan B is actually available over the counter now, if you wanted to pick up a few just to see what they look like, in case you were interested in, like, accuracy, or whatever. You also might be surprised to learn they look nothing like Tylenol PM.
2. The morning-after pill doesn’t cause abortions.
Even if you take them by the heaping Tylenol handful, Lori. All that will do is make you feel really queasy, and then you’re sick and pregnant and living in a post-zombie-apocalyptic hellworld and your hair is really flat.
3. You might mention to Maggie that they’re not “abortion pills.”
She does seem to have grown up in a fairly sheltered, conservative environment, so maybe she doesn’t know there’s a difference. Still, “And here are your morning-after pills, which won’t even work, and I hope you get the trots, so there!” (fling, flounce) probably wouldn’t have the same impact.
4. It really is okay if TV characters get abortions.
The usual excuse is that if you terminate the pregnancy that’s causing all the drama, it terminates the drama, and then you have no story. (And sometimes that’s true–imagine Juno if she’d said, “Fingernails, huh. Go figure” and gone through with the abortion.) In this case, you’ve got a woman who not only slept with her husband’s best friend but probably got pregnant by him, but maybe not, and now they’ll never know, and we’ve already seen zombie kids on this show who didn’t seem terribly happy with their lot in life, and she was already considering letting her kid die rather than bring him back to a world full of misery, and you’ve got plenty of juicy storyline there without trying to bring yet another noncontributing character to your little band of refugees. Even without a dramatic Plan-B upchucking scene. It’s a really substantial theme–whether or not she ultimately goes through with the abortion, there are a tons of places you could go with it.
But for God’s sake, don’t punt.
5. Someone is going to have to have a come-to-Jesus with Andrea or send her on her way.
Okay, that has nothing to do with Lori, but seriously–you want to talk about a liability? Here you have a woman who’s been hopscotching from one freakout to another all season long, and you give her a firearm so she can shoot your only halfway competent character in the head? Because a person with unresolved emotional issues and no experience with firearms should be sitting up on top of an RV with a rifle? Come on, people.