on cowslips and meadow muffins

dear joss whedon,

thank you for bringing back the funny. you could have done that favor for us months ago, but i will defer from casting stones at this time.

furthermore, thank you for your jackass ending. poop on you for not campaigning till you won a 2 hour finale. i think that is shit. this one hour nonsense is fuck. possibly it’s not though as i am willing to admit: what else could you do? banter more? kill more people needlessly? fight longer? maybe the one hour was a blessing. certainly hearing giles utter the phrase, “now i’m a wounded dwarf with the mystical strength of a doiley,” ranks right up there with, “put your back into it! a watcher scoffs at gravity.” (from the cheese episode).

7 years and a lot of good lines later, i just want to say good-bye. i was vaguely troubled earlier this evening as i felt you were going out in my immediate vicinity not with a party or a bang but a quiet whisper as i watched alone in my room. but now i am neither happy nor sad to be left. merely satisfied and complete with your very non-conclusionary conclusion, you bastard. i reserve the right to be angry later when i change my mind and decide you’re a tricky fellow with hidden depths of pure sneakery. after all, who made you the king of bob?

bring on your next show and try to make it last longer than firefly. and when it doesn’t, please do not again disperse the characters to play the evil nemesiseseseses on any of your other shows. that just ain’t right. expand those horizons, joss–hire me. all right, not really. but hire me anyway.

love,

michele