Cersi began her walk of atonement clothed and was stripped on the steps.

He's craven. Will always be craven. The entire scene was completely on-point. Even his big "kills" have been almost completely…not by accident but stuck between a rock and a hard place with literally no other option but "Kill that". Smart guy, fun character, hope he doesn't die, completely craven.

James Faulkner's drift from Lord Sinderby to Lord Tarly was…a short one.

…and it was GLORIOUS!

If Bill Gates is an asshole so are Carly Fiorina and HRC, only one of which gets any repercussions for her actions. Blanket statements like yours only serve to widen the chasm between the sexes.

"where men can be assholes as long as they get the job done"

All those names just made my skin crawl up my back.

British Received = Boston Brahmin, which is the "accent" I most associate with WFB despite his being neither Bostonian nor Brahmin.

I offer up Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins of Maine.

Any self-respecting lib would pick Gerald Ford!

Same, and I'll take Buckley over Reagan every.single.day because he's not a pandering piece-of-shit entertainer-turned-fascist. He just is what he is (was).

"now it embodies a New England-style lack of emotion that’s almost troubling."

A 'college-educated woman of that era' would've been at college primarily to hook a man and get married. Followed closely by learning proper protocol/behavior of the wife of a white-collar man.

Joan went to an unnamed college with Carol. Peggy went to Miss Deaver's Secretarial School.

"he barely knew her when they married. (I think he said something like "I didn't know she could be funny" when he got back from their honeymoon)" - To be fair, this wasn't uncommon at the time.

Here's the story…of a lovely lady…

And where Pete told Peggy "I don't like you like this" - i.e. filrty

They have the same values and similar upbringings. It makes sense that they'd see eye-to-eye on most thing. Now that Trudy's naivete and Pete's jackassery have…mellowed, I could see reconciliation being a possibility.

Deerfield. Dartmouth.

I can only imagine the father-son backslapping through the ages.