Finale ramblings from this afternoon
May. 14th, 2006 11:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eloriekamThis is part meta, part just me rambling, and part I have no idea. I've seen the finale now, but I haven't altered it, and there, are, to my knowledge, no spoilers for the finale, although there's some oblique ones for the rest of the season. (On a side note, I'm about this close to going paid or sponsored+ just so I can get more userpics. Six is simply not enough. ETA: On second thought, I'm putting this behind a cut because I didn't realize how long it was, and also, I've been horrible about checking my LJ for about a week and a half, but I'm pretty sure I got tagged by somebody for something.)
In seven hours and fifteen minutes, at least as I begin writing this, The West Wing will be over. For all that it will end as a new administration begins, the doors will truly be locked, the offices packed and quiet. Toby's rubber balls will no longer be in his desk, and Sam's old office will be truly vacant. The glass things on the Resolute desk will be gone. The framed napkin will forever be locked away and out of sight, rather than sitting out for all the world to see and telling the story of how we can and will do better. Josh's office will at last look neat, because there will be nothing in it. Gail will find some goldfish retirement home, and Margaret will have nothing to organize after seven long years. Charlie's textbooks will be gone from his desk outside the Oval. Donna's cubicle will no longer show the signs of trying to do five things at once, and the misspelled notes will be cleared away from Carol's desk. The huge table in the Roosevelt Room will at last stay polished, rather than being constantly abused by Chinese takeout and thrown notebooks. The Mural Room will sit silent, elegant walls holding no signs of the arguments and triumphs of the last seven years.
For Jed Bartlet did not win a third term. Nor was his equally liberal successor, Matt Santos, granted the grace of full transition and the shining glory of the first 100 days of a new administration.
Oh, but they will.
It's seven hours and six minutes now, and when that WB and John Wells logo come up for the last time, The West Wing will be granted the most precious gift of all, and whether or not anyone besides those giving it is aware of it is irrelevant. You see, in seven hours and four minutes (because it took me a bit of time to type that, owing to the, you know, emotional content), this show, this thing that took us by storm and made us stand up and laugh and weep and believe, will be handed over to us, the fans. And we still care, and we can do better, and we will do better, because that is what Jed Bartlet and his staff asked of us, and it is what Matt Santos and his staff would ask of us if they were ever given the chance. And we can give them that thing, we can continue to give this show life. We will, because we care.
We cared when Josh was about to be fired about two minutes after we met him. We cared about the Cubans, and we cared that for all their flippant snark, Leo and Josh and Sam and Toby and CJ and probably Donna and Margaret and Bonnie and Carol cared too. There is always, and ever will be, something to care about (okay, except for 'Ninety Miles Away' and 'Access', perhaps), and that is what will continue to give this show life. What will happen when Santos' Morris Tolliver is shot down; will he, too, demand to know the virtue of a proportional response? Or, thanks to his military experience, will he already know, and demand more of his Fitzwallace and Hutchinson?
Will they talk fast? Will the staff stand up with that same look of pride for President Santos that they gave Jed Bartlet? When Matt Santos wavers, who will it be who tells him to get back into the game? Who will be in the game with him?
Or shall we follow the old guard, regarding the teamwork in all its early beauty and the way it was shattered later? We cared, after all, whether or not the plot they concocted would work. We cared about what Josh got Donna for Christmas and Danny giving CJ a fish and what was going on with Mallory and Sam, and whether or not Charlie would remember he didn't have to stand up the whole time Zoey was in a room. We can follow Matt Santos and company into the future and see if we think they can achieve the greatness of their predecessors--and what a group they would be measuring up against!--or we can explore the endless possibilities of how else The West Wing could have played out. We can pardon Toby a million times. We can watch CJ realize she's free. We can watch Sam and Josh watch another real thing, endlessly comparing and still wanting a third term for Jed Bartlet. There's so much we can do.
In a little under six hours, I will be listening to the theme again. And it will not be the last time, not by any means. And it will have just as much meaning as I watch the flag wave on the screen and fade as it ever has: something I love and want and enjoy and am made to feel intelligent by and am so, so grateful for having.
I purchased the first two seasons of this show, you see, before I had ever seen a full episode of it. Oh, I'd caught a bit of what I found out later was Manchester I ('you don't get any cider') and possibly the reelection arc on Bravo, and I think I caught a promo for Gaza or Memorial Day a couple of years ago, and saw the start of the Hubbert Peak and also a goodly part of Third Day Story. But I still got those, because... well, I'll never know why, but I'm so glad I did. And the first time that little lilting part of the theme came up before the main menu, where the Presidential Seal gives way to the shot of the White House, I straightened a little bit, and it still makes me want to straighten and lift my chin a little to this day, not because of the American imagery, but because it is the symbol of what I hope we can someday achieve. Sometimes my lips still part a little when President Bartlet is in the Sit Room and asks the name and age of the guy(s) in serious trouble. It never occurred to me that a President would do that. I want that.
I want an election with real issues, not the polarized parodies we're fed today. I want to know that there's a possibility that while the President and his staff don't know the price of milk, they're thinking about it a little bit.
Now that there's six hours and 36 minutes left, I have no idea just where this entry is going.
I want Leo back. That's the beautiful thing about us, the fans, though; we can bring Leo back, and we can keep him alive along with Jed and Abbey and CJ and Josh and Toby and Sam and Charlie and all the rest.
Those in charge of the show certainly don't intend to let us do this after the last moment of The West Wing airs. But they are anyway. What better legacy could a show based in the White House possibly ask for than to be given to us? We, the people, can keep this show and its characters and dare I say ideals alive, and pass them on, that belief that the real thing is maybe somewhere out there and that it really is possible to get a good man (or woman) elected in this country.
I could go on from here to say thank you for all the moments we've been granted, when a man stood up and when the ball got in the air and when Josh wanted to know who Donna was and when a guy fell down a hole. But I've got something in my eye already, and some other stuff just from typing about the napkin earlier.
At that last fade to black, at that moment when this thing to be proud of is consigned to reruns and DVDs, the question falls to us.
"What's next?"
In seven hours and fifteen minutes, at least as I begin writing this, The West Wing will be over. For all that it will end as a new administration begins, the doors will truly be locked, the offices packed and quiet. Toby's rubber balls will no longer be in his desk, and Sam's old office will be truly vacant. The glass things on the Resolute desk will be gone. The framed napkin will forever be locked away and out of sight, rather than sitting out for all the world to see and telling the story of how we can and will do better. Josh's office will at last look neat, because there will be nothing in it. Gail will find some goldfish retirement home, and Margaret will have nothing to organize after seven long years. Charlie's textbooks will be gone from his desk outside the Oval. Donna's cubicle will no longer show the signs of trying to do five things at once, and the misspelled notes will be cleared away from Carol's desk. The huge table in the Roosevelt Room will at last stay polished, rather than being constantly abused by Chinese takeout and thrown notebooks. The Mural Room will sit silent, elegant walls holding no signs of the arguments and triumphs of the last seven years.
For Jed Bartlet did not win a third term. Nor was his equally liberal successor, Matt Santos, granted the grace of full transition and the shining glory of the first 100 days of a new administration.
Oh, but they will.
It's seven hours and six minutes now, and when that WB and John Wells logo come up for the last time, The West Wing will be granted the most precious gift of all, and whether or not anyone besides those giving it is aware of it is irrelevant. You see, in seven hours and four minutes (because it took me a bit of time to type that, owing to the, you know, emotional content), this show, this thing that took us by storm and made us stand up and laugh and weep and believe, will be handed over to us, the fans. And we still care, and we can do better, and we will do better, because that is what Jed Bartlet and his staff asked of us, and it is what Matt Santos and his staff would ask of us if they were ever given the chance. And we can give them that thing, we can continue to give this show life. We will, because we care.
We cared when Josh was about to be fired about two minutes after we met him. We cared about the Cubans, and we cared that for all their flippant snark, Leo and Josh and Sam and Toby and CJ and probably Donna and Margaret and Bonnie and Carol cared too. There is always, and ever will be, something to care about (okay, except for 'Ninety Miles Away' and 'Access', perhaps), and that is what will continue to give this show life. What will happen when Santos' Morris Tolliver is shot down; will he, too, demand to know the virtue of a proportional response? Or, thanks to his military experience, will he already know, and demand more of his Fitzwallace and Hutchinson?
Will they talk fast? Will the staff stand up with that same look of pride for President Santos that they gave Jed Bartlet? When Matt Santos wavers, who will it be who tells him to get back into the game? Who will be in the game with him?
Or shall we follow the old guard, regarding the teamwork in all its early beauty and the way it was shattered later? We cared, after all, whether or not the plot they concocted would work. We cared about what Josh got Donna for Christmas and Danny giving CJ a fish and what was going on with Mallory and Sam, and whether or not Charlie would remember he didn't have to stand up the whole time Zoey was in a room. We can follow Matt Santos and company into the future and see if we think they can achieve the greatness of their predecessors--and what a group they would be measuring up against!--or we can explore the endless possibilities of how else The West Wing could have played out. We can pardon Toby a million times. We can watch CJ realize she's free. We can watch Sam and Josh watch another real thing, endlessly comparing and still wanting a third term for Jed Bartlet. There's so much we can do.
In a little under six hours, I will be listening to the theme again. And it will not be the last time, not by any means. And it will have just as much meaning as I watch the flag wave on the screen and fade as it ever has: something I love and want and enjoy and am made to feel intelligent by and am so, so grateful for having.
I purchased the first two seasons of this show, you see, before I had ever seen a full episode of it. Oh, I'd caught a bit of what I found out later was Manchester I ('you don't get any cider') and possibly the reelection arc on Bravo, and I think I caught a promo for Gaza or Memorial Day a couple of years ago, and saw the start of the Hubbert Peak and also a goodly part of Third Day Story. But I still got those, because... well, I'll never know why, but I'm so glad I did. And the first time that little lilting part of the theme came up before the main menu, where the Presidential Seal gives way to the shot of the White House, I straightened a little bit, and it still makes me want to straighten and lift my chin a little to this day, not because of the American imagery, but because it is the symbol of what I hope we can someday achieve. Sometimes my lips still part a little when President Bartlet is in the Sit Room and asks the name and age of the guy(s) in serious trouble. It never occurred to me that a President would do that. I want that.
I want an election with real issues, not the polarized parodies we're fed today. I want to know that there's a possibility that while the President and his staff don't know the price of milk, they're thinking about it a little bit.
Now that there's six hours and 36 minutes left, I have no idea just where this entry is going.
I want Leo back. That's the beautiful thing about us, the fans, though; we can bring Leo back, and we can keep him alive along with Jed and Abbey and CJ and Josh and Toby and Sam and Charlie and all the rest.
Those in charge of the show certainly don't intend to let us do this after the last moment of The West Wing airs. But they are anyway. What better legacy could a show based in the White House possibly ask for than to be given to us? We, the people, can keep this show and its characters and dare I say ideals alive, and pass them on, that belief that the real thing is maybe somewhere out there and that it really is possible to get a good man (or woman) elected in this country.
I could go on from here to say thank you for all the moments we've been granted, when a man stood up and when the ball got in the air and when Josh wanted to know who Donna was and when a guy fell down a hole. But I've got something in my eye already, and some other stuff just from typing about the napkin earlier.
At that last fade to black, at that moment when this thing to be proud of is consigned to reruns and DVDs, the question falls to us.
"What's next?"
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
beautifully said
Date: 2006-05-15 04:47 am (UTC)Re: beautifully said
Date: 2006-05-18 05:42 am (UTC)What's next for me is that I'm going to untangle my 'Legacy' muse from my 'Houses' muse, and write like a crazy person for the next three weeks, and possibly.... oh, I'm thinking of so much stuff I literally can't write it all down.