Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) investigate a series of suicides and discover the victims were being told brutal truths that drove them crazy. They find out someone is invoking the Goddess of Truth, Veritas, forcing people to be cruelly honest against their will and Dean is the next victim. Dean is forced to tell Sam the truth about how he feels about his return from Hell. Rod Hardy directed the episode written by Eric Charmelo & Nicole Snyder with story by David Reed, Eric Charmelo and Nicole Snyder.
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
So, this ramble is about the show—but I can’t help but bring pieces of me into it because this show snags pieces of me as it rolls along and I’m left to trip over myself as I try to put myself back together again. I think perhaps some of you feel the same way.
There are two ways I could look at this episode. One—as a piece of a larger plot that is unrolling around us like a ball of steel-studded yarn. Or two—as the journey of characters (one in particular) that have literally gone to Hell and back and have taken me with them. The first I can look at almost clinically—a critique as if from a book club. The second has the ability to drive me to my knees. And I’m only being a little dramatic.
A good friend hit me with an email just after the episode ended that helped bring things a bit into perspective. “Vamps with souls…hunters without souls…such is the stuff of our television obsessions.” *laugh* Thanks for that one, Ash.
A couple weeks back, I finished writing a story where I attempted to explore what truly made us human. Our senses? The ability to touch, see, hear, affect, interact with each other? Our souls? If we had nothing left that allowed us to connect with each other and yet held tight to our soul, were we still human? The answer in my story was yes. And I see that, at least on some level, I was in line with the writers’ thinking here. Without your soul, you are not truly human. You are alive, you can do, see, hear…apparently feel physical pain and even fear on some level…but none of that matters. Because…nothing matters to you. Even telling the truth.
Last week I referenced Angel (I mean…we were talking about vampires…how could I not) and a comment to the ramble reminded me of how different Angel was as Angelus—without his soul. He was…cold, calculating, cruel, heartless. But as Angel…he was someone you could fall in love with.
Okay, so…I will attempt to be coherent with this ramble, but I should warn you…I’m a little tangled up about a few things that transpired—none of them involving Sam’s confession.
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