Hi. My name is Matt Donato, and I can’t stop watching The Walking Dead. No matter how many times I’m left enraged, after being dragged through the bowels of television Hell, The Walking Dead continues to spark weekly social media rants that are my own personal cries for help.
I cringed through T-Dog’s unceremonious death, mocked Carl’s inability to stay in the farmhouse, and sighed through the infamous waterlogged well-zombie episode, but, after Season 6’s kick-to-the-groin cliffhanger that spurred a chorus of “OH HELL NO” remarks (among other unedited variations), enough is enough.
Really. I swear this time. *fights putting remote down*
The problem is, I don’t know how to stop. I’ve tried. Season 2 nearly closed the book for me, but after a finale that left just enough hope dangling, there I was, helping set some new record when Season 3 premiered. And after a slower outing than we were used to, there I was again, thinking Season 4 could turn it all around. Same thing with Season 5. *twitches uncontrollably*
MORE NEWS FROM THE WEB
But Season 6, that was special. I found myself thinking “This is the one! This is where The Walking Dead becomes the show I’ve so longed it to be!” Negan had been announced, played by the PERFECTLY cast Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and certain characters began to hit their own stride as Alexandria became Rick’s castle.
Darkness cast a shadow over Carl’s eye removal, during a mid-walker massacre plucked straight from the comics, while Gabriel, Abraham, and Eugene all blossomed into stronger, more defined supporting characters. Would Season 6 be the same without Abraham’s beautifully articulated witticisms, like last Sunday’s “Bitchnuts?” No. It wouldn’t. Denise gave us a shock, the Saviors came a callin’, and the path to a weekly undead holy land was paved by showrunner Scott M. Gimple’s team – UNTIL THE MOTHER OF ALL SEASON-SQUASHING COP-OUTS.