the art of ending tragically

Another S offered to show us a few "odds and ends" (his words) on the t.v. the other night, so we nestled down on the couch to be cultured. 

Reflecting on the strange and wonderful world of Dr. Horrible and his sing-along blog, I tried to anticipate the ending. I do not make a habit of savoring sad endings, if I can help it. There are only two ways for anything to end: ending well, or ending badly. Some people really like sad things, and feel that happy endings are a cop-out, but the truth is there is a fifty-fifty chance either way.

Now-a-days, tragic endings are equally common. But a person, observing a situation, can instinctively feel the onset of a bad ending and brace herself for it. The worst endings, however, are unexpected, such as Dr. Horrible inadvertently creating the weapon that causes the death of his One True Love. Eventually, he finds solace in becoming a mad scientist. Lucky for him.

But for us, the viewers on the couch, it was a shockingly tragic feeling to watch her die in his arms and then see his wasted, misdirected energies turn evil. We sat in silence as the credits rolled by--and then we erupted into protests. Poor Other S.

Hastily,  he put in a more happy tale of one Dr. Who (there are a lot of Doctors in the Other S's life) who travels space and time pluckily saving the human race from itself and more sinister life forms. It's an entertaining look into British humor and French history. That night's episode featured the famous mistress of one of the King Louies.

Like many of life's experiences, we laughed until we cried. And then we just cried. Tragically, the ending is sad and ironic; Dr. Who misses the heroine's death by minutes and then sails without her into the space sunset. We sat in shocked silence as the credits rolled by.

Turns out that the Other S likes sad endings.

Turns out we won't be watching odds and ends on the tele with him anytime soon.