There are Two Kinds of Pain

In the pilot episode of House of Cards, Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) talks about the two kinds of pain – the kind that is motivating and the kind that is useless. I’m going to posit that there’s a third kind which is the pain you feel that is half confusion about where the hell something is going, particularly when before it seemed like things were on track.

"Francis, Air Force One seems to have gone off course..."

Warning from here on out: I’m going to get mildly spoiler-y, but nothing major. Still, if you haven’t watched season three yet and you really don’t want to know anything about the outlines of some major storylines, go watch it and then come back.

We’ve talked about House of Cards before. Gushed about it, even. And while there have always been aspects to the show that didn’t exactly ring true to reality (it is television, after all), I, at least, have always appreciated the verisimilitude put forth by the show. Even when characters were doing things that no real politico would ever do, the show was trying to so hard to adhere to the look and feel of reality it helped to go a long way to excusing the need for dramatic license.

Now? Ugh. You guys, I’m just not sure anymore. Maybe it’s because so much of the action has moved away from Congress, a body that I understood even if I found it nutty, to the White House, which no matter how accurate the setting, it’s always going to be compared to The West Wing. But either way, the cracks are starting to show.

Some of those cracks just feel like stories that the writers have written themselves into the corner with. Case in point: The quickly disappearing prostitute. Remember Rachel? Didn’t she do something back in season one? How many of you remember what it was? Since then, we’ve gotten two years of Rachel either hanging out somewhere doing nothing or gone completely into hiding. Her only reason for remaining a character on the show is to further illustrate what a creep Doug Stamper is. She’s his plot point, not her own. What’s more, her brief appearances in season three actually kind of make Doug into something even worse: a boring creep. His entire arc in the season is to find Rachel and… what? Kill her? Rape her? Own her somehow? All we know is his intentions are clearly not good and for some reason he can’t get past them, even after she bashed his face in last season and left him for dead. While we do finally get some closure to this story, its closure that should have come two years ago.

Rachel, is it? Go buy yourself a nice condo in Vegas, Sweetie. It'll work out better.

The bigger cracks, unfortunately, are reserved for Frank and Claire themselves. House of Cards has always been about the intrigues and chess moves that make Washington a favorite topic for anyone writing a suspense thriller.  Likewise, its biggest flaw has always been that Frank and Claire are portrayed not only as master manipulators but as essentially the only master manipulators in town. For every scheme they hatch, there is literally almost no one who has any kind of counter-scheme, a concept that is about as far away from reality in Washington as is possible. Now, Frank has maneuvered his way into the Presidency and from the Bully Pulpit has decided to… do a reasonable job.

The intrigues that made seasons one and two so watchable are all but gone here. There’s a half-hearted attempt to establish a new level of intrigue by making this season’s “Big Bad” a very thinly veiled stand-in for Vladimir Putin, but it never quite moved beyond a simmering boil. To say nothing of the fact that anyone who has truly been paying attention to someone who is as good at double-speak and reactive tactics as the real life Putin could see half of his ploys coming from a mile away. It just doesn’t feel like any of the story rings true with anything approaching that verisimilitude I mentioned earlier.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how not-Putin I am."

Then there’s the domestic agenda. Frank Underwood, a democrat, spends his political capital as a relatively unpopular, unelected President trying to do away with social security.  Never mind that social security is called the third rail of politics for a reason or that both Republicans and Democrats don’t go anywhere near it. The show makes a half-hearted attempt to explain this away by saying that the needs of the sweeping social program don’t meet the needs of today before getting into some truly wonky talk about a new jobs program, the details of which are of course never discussed (fair enough – this is entertainment, not a real campaign). And while in life there is a certain truth to the fact that social security is a system in need of repair or revamping, the fact remains that no politician seeking reelection, even one as bold and unhindered by impossible odds as Frank Underwood, takes that kind of a risk. And, more importantly, the show never makes it clear why Frank wants this program to succeed. Is it to have another thing that he “wins” at? Something to cement his legacy? Or just because he thinks it’s the right thing to do?

All of which leads to the biggest crack: the Underwoods are, like, nice. Power may corrupt, but for most of season three it turned the two of them into civic-minded public servants. Think about it: In the first episode of season one, Frank strangles a dog with his own bare hands. Sure, he does it out of some twisted rationalization that it’s better for the wounded dog to die quickly instead of suffer longer in pain, but it’s not like there aren’t animal hospitals in Georgetown.  Now he’s just sort of vaguely wormy, trying to maneuver candidates so that he can have the best possible field to himself when running for President. Claire used to be the woman who used that utterly sweet and kind voice to mock a dying man in his hospital bed who had just confessed that he loved her, telling him that not only was that feeling never going to be returned but he was pretty much an idiot for even thinking that telling her would do anything. And that’s before she told one of her former employees who was making life difficult for her that she would purposefully withhold prenatal insurance coverage for the pregnant employee if she didn’t give up her lawsuit. (I believe her exact line to the employee was “I will let your unborn child wither away inside you.”) Flash forward to now and she is ambassador to UN and spending nights in jail to protest a political prisoner’s capture in Russia.

Watching characters grow and change is good; characters that evolve are far more interesting than ones that are static or worse, evil just because. That said, the Underwoods’ growth is almost done in the wrong direction. Unlike real life, we don’t want to watch the Underwoods get redeemed, we want to see them make a mess of things. House of Cards isn’t A Christmas Carol, its Macbeth. The more the Underwoods use their powers for good rather than pure self-interest, the less interested we are in them. And while that trajectory starts to get a bit wobbly toward the end of the season, the characters’ motivations are far more left in the bright center rather than the dingy perimeters.

Yes, that's more like it. Now, more spot-cleaning. Could we possible get three weird sisters on set?

Much like Frank Underwood himself, rising up to the most powerful job on the planet a mere two-ish years after being denied a cabinet position, House of Cards is starting to feel like it has peaked too soon. And while the show sets up its next Big Bad, presumably in the form of an opposing candidate for the presidential campaign that is just beginning at the end of season three, it’s hard to see how much more of this story there is to tell without moving into the inevitable final act: downfall. We’ve seen Frank and Claire rise; the only thing left is for them to fall. If the show can’t get there quickly, we’re going to be all out of reasons to keep watching the realistic sets. 

That Damn Jumpy Banana in My Head. Je-ahhh!!!

So, I decided that it was within my naturally charitable (snort) nature to take one for the TV Sluts team and watch the first six episodes of What Would Ryan Lochte Do? 

And it is glorious. 

Ladies. 

Yes, the E! network is reprehensible in many ways. I was recently witness to a clip of Kourtney Kardashian demonstrating a certain carnal act by shoving a carrot through the hole of a doughnut (a chocolate one, no less). Granted, I was watching The Soup of my own volition, so it is not as though I am entirely innocent, but I was not directly supporting Kourtney K. in her campaign to violate cruciferous vegetation and pastry. 

I have to say, however, that What Would Ryan Lochte do is not the worst thing to hit the airwaves in recent years. It doesn't involve tarting up a five-year-old girl, forcing her to prance around on a stage, and screaming at her to gyrate as though she has some combo of rickets and Bell's palsy.  I mean, if anything like that happened on the show, I'm sure Lochte would have done it willingly if you, like, bet him a hamburger or something.

Whether or not you are not a member of Lochte Nation (awaiting official UN recognition), Olympic gold medal swimmer Ryan Lochte appears to most teevee viewers and netizens to be an adorable simpleton, akin to a cocker spaniel who repeatedly pees on the carpet. Personally, he reminds me of my cat Pippin. Pippin is this adorable little gray kitty who greets each and every day with a sense of playfulness and innocent wonder. 

D'awww.

He's also kind of an idiot. Not in a chasing-his-own tail way (he's outgrown that), but in more of a "all objects that are not nailed down are either a food or a toy or both so why don't I put it in my mouth om nom nom sort of way." He runs full-tilt around my apartment as if bitten by a crazy viper, throws himself up walls in pursuit of insects and feels very proud of himself when he kills his stuffed catnip rat.  All of this occurs on a daily basis while my other cat, Salem, looks on disapprovingly, as if Pippin's very existence is an assault on his dignity.

What fresh hell is this?

Enough about my cats.

Obviously, Lochte was granted his own reality show due to some network execs recognizing that Lochte's lack of awareness of his own surroundings, coupled with a chronic inability to form a sentence, equaled television gold. 

The show focuses mostly on Ryan, Ryan's family, his network of friends and the revolving door-esque nature of his romantic life. I have to say that one of the positive points about the show is how close-knit the Lochte family appears to be.

Although they have an Olympic swimmer in the family, the Lochtes seem very normal and, dare I say it, down-to-earth. I especially like Ryan's sisters, whose job it is to guide their hapless bro (BRO!!!!) through the perils, trials and tribulations of modern dating.  One of the things that troubles Ryan's oldest sister is that Ryan likes to take all of his dates to the same sushi restaurant in Gainesville. The Lochte Logic behind this choice being that Ryan knows all girls like sushi. And now that's it's been on TV and is now A Thing, I think any girl who dates him now would be kind of offended if he didn't take them to the sushi restaurant.

What's wrong with sushi? I'm a girl. I like sushi. I'm kind of with Ryan on this. 

If only Ryan's family could have talked him out of swimming with dolphins, it would have saved me some anxiety about his well-being. He got super excited about swimming with dolphins during one episode and I feared for the lad's life, since poor, clueless Ryan Lochte has no idea that dolphins rape people.

Ryan's also unaware, I should mention, of what a douchebag is. Honestly. Bro has no clue. 

During the first episode, Ryan searches for meaning about what a douchebag truly is, and he makes it his philosophical quest (for about five minutes)  to find out why people think he is one. 

Ryan is also on a quest to find his One True Love (for there can only be one). He has been involved in a long-distance relationship with this really adorable English girl named Jaimee, who he'd been seeing off an on for about three or four years. She comes to visit him in one episode, and this is where we learn that she's kind of the Kate Middleton of this relationship. 

katemiddletonforthewin.tumblr.com

He's the famous guy and she's the non-famous girlfriend who is way, way, way too good for him and who also totally knows it, but who likes him anyway. Their relationship is handled tastefully as far as reality show standards go, and they're only shown kissing, even though she's staying at his apartment. So, viewers could actually see their relationship dynamic instead of voyeuristically watching grainy, black-and-white surveillance video of people bumping and grinding in the dark.  This isn't Jersey Shore. Sadly, things didn't work out so well for the long-distance relationship, and Jaimee called it off a few episodes ago. So, Ryan will have to go back to dreaming about hooking up with Carmen Electra and viewing his favorite movie, "What Woman Want" (actual quote) with his awesome sisters.

I will say, in his favor, with regard to his taste in women, he doesn't really like dumb girls. He took this one girl out for sushi and ordered wontons and she asked him what wontons were and he looked at her like she was from Idiotville. So, I don't think he's stupid stupid. Maybe a little dense. Okay. Maybe a lot dense. At least he knows what wontons are. He's probably doing better than most people.

Wontons: little fried pockets of deliciousness.

One of the things that surprised and impressed me about Ryan was his involvement with End Duchenne. Duchenne, as I learned from the show, is a fatal type of muscular dystrophy. Kids who are affected are unable to play sports or do a lot of physical activities, but one of the things they can do is swim. One of Ryan's uncles suffered from Duchenne and passed away, and Ryan is active with the charity takes his mom to D.C.  to meet with kids who have Duchenne, and to lobby Congress for research funding.

The only thing that marred the trip to D.C. were these three super serious D.C. ladies who were in this bar that Ryan took his mama to. One of them approached Ryan and brought him to their table, where they proceeded to talk to him about politics. He has no idea about politics and stated as much. They kept asking him questions about current debates and were unimpressed with his answers. I felt like they brought him to their table to make fun of him or make him look/feel stupid or to prove a point. He was polite enough to leave his mom for a few minutes and go over to their table, so why be so catty, girls? Like, I get he isn't a super genius or a Fulbright scholar, and he did say he doesn't have much time to follow the news due to his training schedule, but he's a pretty decent, rather average guy overall. Fortunately, his cocker spaniel puppy brain didn't appear to realize that these girls were trying to make him look like an idiot. If he did, he didn't let on, but politely excused himself and went back to his date with his mom.

Then he bought his mom a car.

With regard to the phenomenon that is "jeah" or Jeah Nation, Ryan was kind enough to give his mom a tutorial on the correct pronunciation and accent of the word "jeah." Okay, look, people. You're saying it wrong. "It's jeah like jeah, not je-ah." You don't pronounce it the way it's spelled.

Duh.

"If you get a hot dog named after you, you've made it."

If you're curious about what Ryan Lochte would do (or even more curious about what Ryan Lochte wouldn't do), tune in to E! On Demand to watch this season's eight episodes.