Informed Decisions = The Least Fun Kind Of Decisions, because you have to take them seriously after all the effort you put into having them. Whereas—as the online community has proven—Uninformed Decisions are the easiest to make and the most fun to purport, because it's all about the VOLUME and nothing's at stake…

Oh, for Chrissakes, here:

I will make a nod towards the utter realism of this episode's initial premise: Nina is not a Trial Lawyer—she's a Real Lawyer, and she has spent her entire career avoiding becoming the former, because, ew.

Thanks—I should always, always add to such pontification: Also, if you enjoy the show, ignore the hell out of everything I'm saying and go back to enjoying it. You are not wrong, and don't let people like me dissuade you at all.

I blame my wife for getting me started on this show—we saw the previews and she told me she wanted to see it and I argued strenuously against it and she said "Viola Davis" so she won as well she should have—but last night she turned to me and said "Why the hell are we watching this?"

Jessica Day overhears you in passing, and turns back, her lip trembling. "I worker really HARD on those!" (Exits, sniffling into her unseasonal cardigan.)

Somewhere in the dark recesses of Hollywood, Elisha Cuthbert and Zachary Knighton steeple their fingers and murmur "Soon…soon…"

The brilliance of the line "No man or piece of scientific technology has ever been to the bottom of the ocean" is that it encapsulates what's so goddamned frustrating and so goddamned endearing about Nick Miller: He wants so terribly to live in a world in which that is true—because he wants to live in a world in which…

My pleasure!

What a pluperfect fucking asshole Walsh is. "No, dude, it's a choice." Yeah, like the schizophrenic chooses to hear voices and react with terror, like the Alzheimer's patient chooses to forget, to lose, to panic. You stupid fucking no-nothing piece of shit. Depression is madness, you worthless sack. How dare you…

I know that it is generally gag-inducing for someone to respond to a post like yours with "Dude, read this thing that I wrote, it's all about YOU," but then you wrote this:

In Styron's Darkness Visible, an excellent 'here-read-this' book to hand to someone who thinks that depression is just being sad, or that depressive suicide is voluntary, he bemoans the term itself, and he's right to do so.* "Depression" just doesn't cut it—it sends a message of a mild downward drop in an…

"Millennial is a vibe, an aura, if you will, rather than a factor of age," he said, pausing to sip his artisan absinthe.

I am grimly prepared to eat my hat on this one. (Eyes stovepipe.) Why oh why did I choose you over the beret?

I get what you're saying; there's no question that Betty is a great character (a little implausible, but enough to be entertaining.) It's just that at this point, she's occupying a spin-off. (Which, for the record, I would watch—anybody else want to see Betty and Jane living together in early-'60s L.A.? Should we…

True, but I offered neither thesis nor thematic structure. In my line of work, that's one step above a fortune cookie aphorism.

I write poetry, so, far from having them removed, I have had my childhood traumas blown up to Macy's-Parade size. As for the Libby/Coral stuff, I can just cut-and-paste my comments on the Betty digression—I realize that someone on the show really, really wants to be Lorraine Hansberry, but get a grip, whoever you…

Nothing lengthy or faux-deep from me this week; either the show is running out of steam (unlikely) or I am (very fucking likely indeed.)

I allude to this in my (always lengthy) comment, but I think she's being "consistently inconsistent," inasmuch as at the end of last season she was given the One Thing she'd been longing, burning, dying for her whole damned life—and now she has it. (That is: him. The Wee Baby Masters.)

I'm glad I'm not the only one who picked up on the theme of deception this week—mind, the show right now is based around an adulterous relationship, so there's gonna be a lot of lying, regardless.