Keeping It 100 On The Walking Dead: If I Lived In Alexandria

There were so many points during the season 6 premiere of The Walking Dead when I thought, “Just kill him, Rick.” Now I’m not saying that violence is the answer, but I am saying that sometimes in a post-apocalyptic world when you are surrounded by soft muhfuckers who live in Denial, Virgina, violence is the answer.

For example, last season killing Pete = violence is the right answer. I have zero patience for perpetrators of domestic violence in the pre-apocalyptic world I live in. And dude was waving a knife? And he “accidentally” slit the throat of the guy who built the wall
that is protecting the city? GTFOH.

Um… there is no redemption for this level of assholery.

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Again, I’m not saying that everyone should die. But I’m saying Nicholas should die. Glenn, why? Why is Nicholas alive and he didn’t have to limp his punk ass into the infirmary? Because you carried him? What in the fuck is this? This dude got Noah killed while you watched for no other reason than his own cowardice. Noah! The young black man who was primed to take over the building-wall brigade! And you carried him to the infirmary? Then he comes with you on a life-threatening mission that involves walker-killing? How much faith in humanity does Glenn have and how can I get some? Because Nicholas would be an armless, jawless, Michonne-style pet as I wandered into the Valley of Undeath and I would not be afraid.

I’d try to find Nicholas’ last surviving relative for good measure.

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Fear is only useful in certain situations. Like when you’re an almost useless, but smart, liar standing next to a locked door in a wall – a wall that keeps inevitable death at bay. Sorry Heath. Nice hair and all, but you can’t come in. I don’t know you. I don’t care who you say you are or where you say you’ve been: I don’t take chances anymore.

Eugene is liar. Does he think he’s the only liar who has survived this long? Oh, you say Holly knows you. Well my name isn’t Holly so you can sit outside this fence for five more ticks. If your name was JesusBuddahAllahKrishna, and I don’t know you? You can stay outside that fence. Oh there’s a herd of walkers behind you? Well I’ll be happy to deliver your last words to someone who can confirm your identity.

Because Rick is right to not take chances anymore. Which is why I need to say, with the deepest respect and sincerity: Fuck you, Morgan.

We’re all killers, Rick. Except me. Well, I am. But, somehow, you’re worse than me because of it.

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I get that you’re no longer locking yourself in the middle of booby-trap island lamenting the untimely demise of your wife and son, but let’s not pretend that you weren’t living in some Wile. E. Coyote, Acme-finally-delivered-all-my-shit, wet dream. Because you were. Because you stabbed Rick. Because you wrote a manifesto on the walls and building and streets. I get that you’re in a better place now, but…

But you did. So let’s not get too holier-than-thou because Rick doesn’t want Pete’s body buried inside the compound. Not only because Deanna the newly widowed mayor agrees, but because you lost two people (maybe three if we count your mysterious “friend,” who I shall call Donatello until you name him) and Rick and the others have lost too many to count – and I’m including people of all races, not just the disposable-on-this-show-and-in-police-cells Black people.

And people who have lost people are dangerous. Speaking of Ron, Pete’s son who shows up like Michael Myers showing up from the shadows, needs a (metaphorical) slap in the face. He’s ill-equipped to be out in the world, but there he is following Rick and Morgan as they debate burying the abuser.

Ron watching Carl win Enid’s affection.

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Morgan is all disapproving looks as Rick is basically like “Kid, you gon’ die out here so get in the fucking car.” What was Rick supposed to do? There are no Hallmark cards for this situation. And, honestly, if there were, permanent five-o’clock-shadow Rick doesn’t seem like the type to be mailing you anything on your birthday.

Morgan’s vegan-level softness also probably got Carter killed. Now, I know he (and it seems like Michonne) seem to blame Rick for Carter’s death. And, besides the actual blade in the back of the head thing, they’re wrong.

Rick tried to reason with Carter as they debated the (hot steaming plate of garbage) plan for herding the herd. He didn’t shoot him in the back of the head when he walked in on him with a gun to Eugene’s head or when he admitted that he was plotting to kill Rick. (I think you know what I’d have done there. I’ll give you a hint: I’d be looking for a good dry cleaner). More than that, the most humane thing Rick did in the entire episode was spoiled by Morgan: in one of the wall-building flashback scenes, Rick wanted Carter and the others to learn how to defend themselves. Carter froze.

Wait. What? You pointed a gun at Rick and lived to tell about it? Wait. Rick pointed a gun at you and you lived to tell about it? Cut your losses, son, and get on Team Rick.

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Let’s marinade on that. Carter, surrounded by Rick, Michonne, Morgan, and Darryl, freezes and looks as helpless as a baby mouse wrapped in bacon being lowered into a snake’s pit. This is the training wheels equivalent of zombie killing. Try to kill the walker and, if you fail, any one of four competent fighters can rescue you. But Carter freezes and Morgan swoops in to rescue him/set him up for his later death.

But we’re supposed to think that Rick is the asshole? Well, one of their sons is alive and it ain’t Morgan’s.

Alexandria is pristine and how long can that last? I wouldn’t take chances either. And I don’t think less of Rick for becoming what is required to survive.

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