13 Infuriating Reasons Why

This is my blog, so I can express my indignity at something as silly as a television show if I want to.

I don’t know why I got tangled up in “13 Reasons Why”, but I’m sorry I did.

Everyone has their taste in television. All genres have their quirks and indulgences. Every Sci-fi show I have ever seen has had its share of lousy dialog and plot contrivances, it doesn’t stop me from enjoying the entertainment – or at least enjoying the recognition of those very flaws. For me, what saves a show with sometimes deep flaws, is that it tells some truth that is worth telling and delivers a payload of satisfaction that makes it worthwhile.

I actually make the assumption that entertainment is supposed to do this. Truths are supposed to be the same, more or less; the contexts are merely delivery vehicle. At first, I thought my dissatisfaction was something along those lines, simply not liking the context. However, over the course watching the show, my relationship with each character, including Hanna, the main character, became weaker and weaker and not stronger.

My least favorite type of show – typically a type of movie – is what I call “The Good Son.” It’s where the bad guy looks like the good guy to every other character. Only you, the viewer, and the main character know the truth. Only we know that this bad person is hurting people and ruining everything. Such a plot is excruciating. It feels untruthful. This show has a little bit of that vibe to it, and it’s poison for me.

Speaking of poison. Was anyone else vaguely reminded of “A Christmas Story” when Ralphie fantasized about going blind from soap poisoning? Obviously, the series had a less comical outcome, but the whole collection of episodes seemed like a revenge plot for suicidal people who dream about making everyone else suffer when they are gone.

High school certainly sucks for everyone – even if on the whole most escaped without too much damage. Every one of us who has been in that environment has grappled with the struggle of defining themselves in the eyes of their peers. There is no perspective in that world; feelings over inconsequential events can run incredibly deep.

Through those years and beyond, we can simultaneously exist as sympathetic victims and cruel perpetrators. The people around us invariably judge us as happier and better adjusted than they are themselves, and in so doing, they aren’t seeing the whole picture.

Hanna confessed to mistakes, but she didn’t seem to feel that her worst, most unforgivable mistake was the vindictiveness of those tapes. Sure, a lot of people failed her in varying degrees. The punishment she delivered seems uniform at face value, but the impact was more severe for the people who cared about her most.

Now nobody can apologize to her; she withdrew her participation in the most selfish way possible.

My personal feelings about suicide are known to those around me. I have said many times that if they find my body, don’t believe the suicide note; look for the killers. I suppose I am lucky in this respect. In our modern society, there is a drug to help you quit smoking which can alter your brain and leave you entertaining thoughts of suicide. This is the most horrifying side-effect of any drug I can imagine. Cigarettes might literally kill you, but at least you won’t *want to die.

At any rate, I have nobody to blame but myself. I knew how this show would end from the first few minutes of episode one; I was hoping for more, but I got less. Hanna’s death didn’t achieve anything that her life couldn’t have achieved far more effectively, and beautifully.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *