You Have Got To Be Kidding Me.

This. Vanity Fair : “Game of Thrones Finally Conquers the Emmys with Record-Breaking Wins.”

I can not even pretend to know what I would think about the show if I had never read the books.  I do know that the show got me into the books, and until this past season I thought the complaints of so-called “book purists” or “book snobs” were petty little nit-picks worth little more than an eye roll.  I know that while I am willing to admit that yes, the signs were there early on, I still feel that the first three seasons, and most of the fourth still stand as some of the finest television ever made.  And after last night, I know that I am on the apparent losing side of this pop culture decision.

Best fucking writing?  Are you fucking kidding me?

The others I’m willing to forget.  This wasn’t Dinklage’s best season, but he definitely deserves an Emmy for his Tyrion.  I don’t know enough, or pretend to, to argue with the best directing nod, and the show is a legit phenomenon when you look at the viewership numbers, so the best drama series win is at least comprehensible.

But best fucking writing?

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