#the raw emotions over john's actual death overcome him

[normalbrothers]

TOMMY: All right, we'll do it.

[wenamedthedogkylo]

So I started writing my own review of The Last Jedi on Rotten Tomatoes because I have a lot of thoughts on it, and I’m feeling pumped so why the hell not post it here, too.

It continues to shock me that so many movie-goers don't see the incredible story-telling that went into The Last Jedi, but after some thinking I think I understand the root of the vitriol. Star Wars is a big series—it goes without saying but deserves reiterating—and over its long life has acquired a very specific image which many fans cling to. It's a large-scale space opera, full of the struggle between good and evil, light and dark, and a plethora of other elevated themes which give it a heightened air. It sits atop a special pedestal for many fans, who don't particularly like when anything comes along which rocks that pedestal.

But TLJ has rocked it with some incredibly simple concepts which drive home powerful messages, and fans aren't having it. Which is a shame, because they're messages which are sorely needed today, and especially in this franchise. Spoilers ahead.

The first is the basic idea that Star Wars, its story, and its characters are for everyone. We've seen backlash to the changes following this concept already in the racists crawling out of the woodworks to slam John Boyega and his dark-skinned Stormtrooper Finn, and now spewing hate at actress Kelly Marie Tran and her character Rose Tico, the first visibly Asian character in SW. We saw it in the gatekeepers decrying the choice of Rey as the series' new Jedi character, throwing out terms like "Mary Sue" for her highly developed piloting abilities and her immense strength with the Force, yet missing the irony of not applying such labels to their heroes Anakin and Luke.

The idea that SW is for everyone feels threatening to the gatekeepers in the fandom, and so they lash out at TLJ for how much further it takes this notion than The Force Awakens did before it. Not just in introducing Rose, but in giving us a number of startling (and occasionally long overdue) firsts, like palpable visual evidence of General Leia Organa using the Force. Although it has been canon since the original trilogy that Leia is as Force-sensitive as her twin brother Luke, and the Expanded Universe has given us multiple stories in which Leia goes full Jedi, many fans balked at actually seeing the princess-turned-general use the Force to save her life. By the looks of it, the reasoning against this seems to be "it was out of character" or "unrealistic", an odd line of thinking given the amazing feats other Force-users have been able to accomplish. Why should Leia be any different, particularly when she's had 30 years in which to experiment with her abilities? We don't see those 30 years, so we don't really know how far she might have pushed learning to use the Force tangibly. There's nothing particularly unrealistic about it.

The other thing people don't seem to be agreeing with is TLJ's bold statement that the Force does not belong to the Jedi. Even after six movies, many fans still don't seem to be able to reckon with the notion that the Jedi and their counterpart, the Sith, were in many ways equally detrimental to the balance of the Force. The Sith took their passion and lust for power to extremes, while the Jedi's emotional detachment and adherence to faith in the Force proved too passive and constricting, resulting in their downfall. The new generation of characters and movies opens the path for the Force to truly be put into balance—no more Jedi, no more Sith, just people learning to use their abilities in harmony. But with our heroine Rey revealed to be refreshingly unrelated to anyone else in the series, many fans feel cheated by how open this leave the narrative. Unfortunate, considering that fresh characters and new stories are what keeps Star Wars afloat.

It bears mentioning, too, that opening SW up to all audiences in TLJ meant some particular story-telling devices and humor which fans felt landed flat. I, for one, enjoyed the humor which was injected into TLJ particularly because it chipped away at the lofty pedestal on which fans have ensconced the series. Star Wars is first and foremost about people in all their awkwardness and hilarity, and for those fans who say that humor has no place in SW, I would simply point back to this moment between Luke and Han on Tatooine in Return of the Jedi:

Han: "I think my eyes are getting better. Instead of a big dark blur, I see a big light blur." Luke: "There's nothing to see. I used to live here, you know." Han: "You're going to die here, you know. Convenient."

Finally, one of the most important messages of TLJ which fans are rejecting is one which was summarized best by the surprise appearance of Yoda in Force-ghost form. As Luke struggles to come to terms with his past mistakes and how they're shaping the future, Yoda gives him some sound advice: "The greatest teacher, failure is."

Failure is a thread which runs heavy throughout TLJ, and it's not something audiences are used to having to worry about so deeply. As a collective, and particularly where Star Wars is concerned, we expect that things are going to work out. More than that, we expect to be in the know on every little piece of narrative so that we can brace ourselves for potential failures and be ready to cheer when the heroes triumph.

But TLJ does not give us that omniscience, and for many, that's enough to be a movie ruiner instead of a game changer. From the start, we watch our new favorite flying ace Poe Dameron brush failure as his rash actions lead to the deaths of countless rebels. When he's held accountable, we feel for him, because his idea of success includes the option of going down in a blaze of glory. That's an ideal for him, and as audiences it's an idea we've been conditioned to applaud, even when reality shows that that is not always the best route. So we feel for Poe because we agree with him, but TLJ smacks us as sharply as Leia smacks Poe and reminds us that living to keep those you're fighting for safe is far more effective than dying a hero and being unable to protect them.

We see failure taken further still. We're fully on board with Poe and his mutiny as the story progresses, because Admiral Holdo and the narrative are holding their plans captive from Poe and us. We don't like being kept in the dark as an audience; we're conditioned to feel as though this means the one withholding plans is naturally in the wrong. So watching Poe's mutiny tank, learning that his plans and those of Finn and Rose have all been for naught, is a crushing blow. But most audiences appear to be taking this as a personal slight rather than as a learning moment. We should always be skeptical of authority figures, and blindly following orders is more often harmful than helpful, but as TLJ shows us here, there are also times when acting without all the facts or thought for the consequences can be just as deadly. It feels like a waste of time to some, watching Finn and Rose have an adventure in a space casino only to have it all be for nothing, but Yoda's words ring out true here too: failure is the most powerful teacher, and our heroes prove their mettle by bouncing back from said failures and giving their all to winning the day.

Finally, for those who took the greatest issue with Luke's character arc in TLJ, there is some comfort to be had in again looking back to the original trilogy. Luke Skywalker has always been a relatable hero because he's the boy from nowhere. He lead an unimportant life on Tatooine and dreamed of greater things. Suddenly, fortune (or the Force) brought him into the greater story of the galaxy, and it turned out that he was actually someone of great importance. As a good hero does, he rose to the occasion, but as any human person does, he met setbacks and struggled with doubt. Throughout the first trilogy, doubt was Luke's greatest enemy, particularly self-doubt. He seemed to have conquered it by the climax of RotJ, but remember that there are 30 years between then and TFA which we only have had glimpses of. Old insecurities don't die easily, and it's easy to see how they could have come crawling back to haunt Luke as hard as they did. A lone man trying to rebuild the entire Jedi Order on his own when he had only a partial training himself? That's a lot of pressure, even for someone who almost single-handedly took down the Galactic Empire, destroyed the Emperor, and redeemed his father. Under such pressure, it's hard to expect anyone, even a hero, to remain perfectly confident. So when confronted with the raw power of his nephew, how can we blame him for being terrified and reacting badly?

What is most important about Luke which is made clear in TLJ is that he is our hero not because of his weaknesses, but because he always overcomes them. He stops himself from killing his nephew in instinct, and although timing and fate still deliver a sad outcome, there's a lot to be said for his restraint and repulsion at his own doubts in Ben. After being in hiding for years, he steps in and saves the day on Crait to allow the Rebellion another chance at life, at carrying on the fight. And most of all, as sad as it is to watch him go, he becomes one with the Force at peace, having finally learned to reconcile his doubt with his faith, his insecurities with his sense of right and wrong. And it's all the more touching a moment for it.

All in all, The Last Jedi is a challenge which most viewers seem only to take at face value, rejecting the offered opportunity for expanding our idea of what heroes look like, how they behave, what they overcome, and what their stories look like. All these ideas are wrapped in an exciting Star Wars adventure which is full of the incredible visuals and battles we've come to expect, but without that expected feel-good pat on the head and assurance that everything will be alright just as it always has been. Because that's not the point of The Last Jedi. Everything will indeed be alright, but nothing is ever the same as it was before, and that's all for the better. Change is hard, but eventually, we learn to see how much better off we are for it. I am thrilled to see Star Wars take leaps and bounds into new directions and explore every corner of humanity and our potential. One can only hope that others will learn to see this progress for the good in it, as well.

[joel-furniss-blog]

Art and Ideas - 2

An understanding of a period must involve a subject of study, and if one is to be solely invested in the study, it must be an important period, one in which worn past ideals are replaced with freshly bred explorations into innovative opinions, literature and aesthetics. In general, a level of expansive thought that its predecessor lack, a valuable core of intellectual freedom that lays foundation for even more ideas to come. I personally believe that no better period of modern innovation represents a definitive change in ideals than the Romantic period.

The Romanticism was in many ways one of the most revolutionary periods of thought in history. From the broad binding of creative power into the first craftworks of the Greco-Roman period to the tributes of these classical antiquity’s present into the era of Neoclassicism, the periods prior to Romanticism have not left their field of overbearing rationality and rules of strict artistic proportion in centuries, and as a result they have produced stagnant paintings and sculpture, a seemingly never-ending series of crowded action-poised oil-on-canvas paintings or toga-draped marble maidens with little room for margin. In many ways the response of Romanticism was needed to shift the reflective spectrum and broaden horizons for the future, which is why Romanticism moved from the humble realism of many prior painters to study and produce pieces that stimulated the emotions to a point, rather than being plainly appreciated for their technical ability and lifelike visuals. This is not to say that the artwork of the Romantic period is not of particular photo-realistic merit as the focus on the Sublime lends itself to images of allure and awe rather than a focus on the immediate background and shallow depths of the neoclassical.

The Sublime as a concept is a difficult one to decipher at first glance, many may see it as simply an overwhelming sense of beauty, but as a philosophy it is built on much more. The original use of the Sublime was to describe a writing style of the ancient Greek epics, and was referred to as such by an unknown Roman-Era Greek author Longinus in his literary criticism On the Sublime, which defines the Sublime as:

“…a certain loftiness and excellence of language,” which “…takes the reader out of himself...”

Longinus saw the Sublime as a loss of rationality and a deep emotion mixed of pleasure and exaltation, which he criticised by saying:

"…the Sublime leads the listeners not to persuasion, but to ecstasy: for what is wonderful always goes together with a sense of dismay, and prevails over what is only convincing or delightful, since persuasion, as a rule, is within everyone's grasp: whereas, the Sublime, giving to speech an invincible power and [an invincible] strength, rises above every listener…"

The Sublime in this way is not a sense of very great excellence as a regular definition might put, but an uncapturable combination of multiple emotions, sometimes even conflicting ones. A sense of the Beautiful does play an important part in the Sublime, but there is also a key emotion that is completely necessary to the idea of the Sublime: Fear. The Sublime shows the incalculably massive and unconquerable by man, either literally out-of-touch or too large to fully understand. Examples of the Sublime could be seen in later Romatic artworks, seen in vast technicoloured sunsets of fading mountain ranges shrouded in fog. During the time of Longinus it was the dawn of the Roman Empire, where the unconquerable was destructive to their advances into the unknown, in which the sublime mountains proved impossible or terrifying to cross, or when raging seas took lives. In other words, they were scared of the Sublime, and this fear most likely spread to literature and spawned Longinus criticisms.

While the criticism is directed at the Sublime in Greek literature, it was also written to reference the art at the time, which is understandable. The Greeks were the intellectual force of the early aesthetic and scholarly reigns, it is only logical that they would only appreciate the beauty of the object represented; the beauty of the accuracy of the representation; and the beauty of the painting or sculpture itself, but after centuries of keeping to these ideals, they have lost their scientifically pinpoint polish and were in need of replacement. And in this prolonged period of production and the ensuing reproductions, the idea and subsequent view of the Sublime was altered once again. To now get a better understanding of the view of Sublime, the philosophical work of author and theorist Edmund Burke must be taken into account.

Burke’s concept of the sublime was born from the works of his literary predecessors Joseph Addison, John Dennis, and Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 3rd Earl of Shaftesbury, who all saw the sublime as the regular definition, a mixture of beauty and fear, but Burke’s 1757 treatise A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful actually argued against the supposed inclusion of the Sublime with the beautiful, arguing a philosophical exposition on the two subjects completely separated.

“, it naturally occurs that we should compare it with the sublime; and in this comparison there appears a remarkable contrast. For sublime objects are vast in their dimensions, beautiful ones comparatively small; beauty should be smooth and polished; the great, rugged and negligent: beauty should shun the right line, yet deviate from it insensibly; the great in many cases loves the right line; and when it deviates, it often makes a strong deviation: beauty should not be obscure; the great ought to be dark and gloomy: beauty should be light and delicate; the great ought to be solid, and even massive.”

Burke argued that the beauty of an object is based purely on the aesthetics, a combination of well-formed smoothness, modest scale, and outstanding delicacy. In this way, Burke’s philosophical standings on beauty fully encompass the art object, the sculpture and the painting, specifically the Neoclassical collections present at his time. Compared to the Beauty, the Sublime shares the casual structure of the Beauty, but on a much larger scale, encompassing an imperfect ferocity, incalculable vastness level with infinity, and an uncontrollable power, all these qualities break it from the simply aesthetic and caused it to inhabit the mind. To fully understand the Sublime, an active mind is necessary to hypothesize all that is lost in the intense expanse, as well as to overcome the fear of the unknown, it is an idea for the individual artist rather than the tutored student. Burke’s interpretation of the Sublime versus the Beauty was the prefect breeding for the Romantic Movement, as Romantic work utilized the Sublime in its work as a combat against the much more conventionally beautiful Neoclassical.

The full embrace of the Sublime idea in the Romantic Movement was not the only significant aesthetic change present, the ideological progression of the Sublime spawned fear and awe and demonstrated the impossible significant aspects of an untameable nature. A main focus of Neoclassical art was the group, a collection of human beings set in a scene, present in naturalistic poses and expressions, an ideal present since the Renaissance, visible in works such as Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Socrates, 1787 or Maurycy Gottlieb’s Jews Praying in the Synagogue on Yom Kippur, 1878. These works are bustling with life and present movement, while demonstrating a level of intimacy and raw humanity, showing weakness and sorrow in their visages. But as it seems, this open display of emotions are only shown when the subject is human, not when the focus of the piece is on the classical Greco-Roman Gods, an example lying within Jacques-Louis David’s final 1822 work Mars Being Disarmed by Venus, in which the Gods are seen not as symbols of common human emotion, but as either stoic figures of comfortable power in the case of the laying Mars, or flowing symbols of beauty in the form of the temptress Venus and the three Graces. This can even be noted not just for the mythical Gods, but other, much more realistic, supposed Übermensch. Even Socrates is seen as a unobtainable symbol to man in David’s previously mentioned Death of Socrates, in which even facing death, the genius Socrates bathes in radiant white flows of cloth, held in a stoic, even heroic pose whereas his nameless pupils and onlookers cower in their much more neutral colours.

Romanticism set to represent the everyman with a specific emphasis on individualism and theological realism, rather than the more over exaggerated emotion of Neoclassical, in which man was not only represented as being low in comparison to their supposed superiors, but cutting their own destiny, working towards glory or facing great danger. Instead of revering and appearing servile to the mythical or physical deities, it demonstrated the genius or the brave warrior as reflection of great triumphs or a goal for the average man to work towards. Some examples of this are the Eugène Delacroix’s famous 1830 Liberty Leading the People, in which the warriors seen brandishing pistols and swords are much more a broad representation of the French people than accurate representations, showing to the far left the rugged worker man clad in apron and next to him a finer nobleman complete with top hat and tailcoat and even the child leading the charge, representing the future generation carving its own path. The painting is not exclusive to a social sect but a binding one for all to enjoy and envision themselves in, demonstrating how the work of any man can change courses and breed greatness instead of heralding a single figure. Another example of this new level of immersive palpability in Romantic artwork is Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, 1819, a figurehead piece where a faceless and nameless figure dressed in gentleman’s attire and standing in a triumphant pose on a mountain, overlooking the namesake sea of fog. The evidence of the dampened, black rock demonstrates that the climb was taxing, yet he wears the constricting formal wear of a nobleman, suggesting that to him it was completed with ease and his raised pose suggest that he is a forerunner for man, a leader. He is a man facing the Sublime for unknown reasons, possibly to humble himself, for peaceful contemplation, or perhaps he seeks to conquer what is laid in front of him. The piece does not seek to lay out the obvious, historical figures, important landmarks, or the rest, it is wholly up for interpretation, designed to stimulate the emotions of the viewer and draw them to imagine.

This emphasis on these wider and wholly relatable ambitions was a significant change in the artworld, no longer a focus on the lower and higher man, but a strengthened sense of equality and enthusiasm for every man. In some ways it was one of the most visible changes on the artistic spectrum, moving away from the conventional ideas of beauty or dread and building towards new emotional fronts taken on by the Sublime or the later inclusion of the Gothic helped produce some of the boldest artworks of the time such as Francisco Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son, an entirely audacious and frankly horrifying work which if the movers of the Romantic art didn’t lay the foundation for, would never have been made. The Romaticism helped build art as the independent thinkers practice, rather than craft it was known as for centuries, it romanticised it for all. The artist was romanticised as being a free spirit, dabbling in the greatest philosophical luxuries and spreading their knowledge through their expertise, and thus spreading their influence to other would-be artists whereas previously art was reserved for the educated and elite. Romanticism helped define art within the newly forming modern world and because of this I believe it is the most significant artistic movement of its era.

Bibliography:

- Chase, C. (1993). Romanticism. New York: Longman Publishing, pp. 7-8

- Perry, S. (1999). Romanticism: The Brief History of a Concept. In: Wu, D ed. A Companion to Romanticism. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, pp. 3-9

- Longinus. (1890). On The Sublime. Translated by Havell, H.L. London: Macmillan and Company, pp. 23

- Burke, E. (1757). A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful. London: J.C. Nimmo and Bain, pp. 206

- Death of Socrates [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Death_of_Socrates [Accessed 22 Nov. 2017]

- Jews Praying in the Synagogue on Yom Kippur [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jews_Praying_in_the_Synagogue_on_Yom_Kippur [Accessed 22 Nov. 2017]

- Mars Being Disarmed by Venus [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_Being_Disarmed_by_Venus [Accessed 22 Nov. 2017]

- Liberty Leading the People [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberty_Leading_the_People [Accessed 22 Nov. 2017]

- Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog [online] Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanderer_above_the_Sea_of_Fog [Accessed 22 Nov. 2017]

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

My Super Special Awesome Sauce Supernatural Re-Watch -- Season 1 Episode 9, Home

Welcome to my Supernatural Re-Watch project in which I'm re-watching every episode of Supernatural. Why? Because I want to. I've kind of made a name for myself in the Shadowhunters fandom for my love-hate relationship with the Freeform show. So I thought, hey, since I'm reviewing a sub-par show that constantly disappoints me (Shadowhunters), I should also review a show that I love. This way, when I'm critical of Shadowhunters, my audience can get an understanding of where I come from. What it is I look for in good story telling. Or they could think I'm a hypocritical idiot. Either way, I'm doing this. And also, I love Supernatural and I'm really just looking for an excuse to watch the show and then talk about it. Next up is episode 9, Home. And I'm really excited to talk to you guys about this one because it's one of my top favorite episodes for the entire series, pretty much. As always, these posts reflect my own personal thoughts and opinions, no one elses'. You don't have to agree with me but you should still respect it. Also, please no spoilers for Season 13. 

RECAP

This episode's teaser starts off with this family who's just moved in to a new house. We see a woman unpacking her things when her daughter walks in and claims that there's something in her closet. Since most young children inevitably believe there actually is something in their closet, the rational mother is understandably skeptical. She walks into the closet to prove nothing's there. Then before the daughter goes to bed, she jams the closet door closed with a chair. The mother continues on with her unpacking when she starts to hear scratching noises from the basement. She assumes it's rats and checks out the basement only to find nothing there. Meanwhile, the daughter witnesses the chair seemingly moving on its own and when the closet door opens, the girl sees a burning figure and she screams. 

We cut to Sam Winchester having a nightmare about the family that we just saw in the teaser and needless to say, it freaks him out. The next day, Dean is scoping out new cases for them to work when Sam realizes the tree he's been drawing on his notepad is actually the tree that stood in front of their old childhood home. The same tree that was in his nightmare. Sam tells Dean they need to go to their old home in Lawrence, Kansas because the new owners of that house are in serious danger. Dean is understandably skeptical about this but then Sam reveals that his nightmares have meaning. He tells Dean the secret he's been keeping, the secret he used with Bloody Mary. That he dreamt about Jess' death days before it happened and in explicit detail. He didn't do anything because he didn't want to believe it. Dean realizes they should check out the house but he also really doesn't want to. Who really wants to revisit their childhood trauma?

Sam and Dean make it over to the house and they talk to the woman. A widow who's just recently moved in. To have a fresh start on her new life. The boys talk with her a little bit and find out that she's noticed weird things about the house. Lights flickering, scratching sounds, and the daughter mentions the burning figure in her closet. Sam and Dean are now understandably freaked. All of these things are signs of a spirit not to mention they have even more cause to freak out as this now means that Sam's dreams really do have some value. 

They consult their father's journal to figure out what to do next with this house. They realize that a few days after their mother's death, John went to go see a psychic, Missouri (not the state). Sam and Dean meet Missouri and she relays what she once told their father. Missouri says that when she visited the house with their father 20 years ago, the thing that killed their mother was no longer there but whatever was there was pure evil, plain and simple. She also tells them that over the years, she's been keeping an eye on that house and nothing weird has been happening since Mary Winchester's death. Which is even more disconcerting to Sam and Dean that something's happening now. What with their father going missing, Jess' death, and now Sam's nightmares not actually being nightmares but in actuality, prophetic dreams? I'd be a little freaked out too. 

The boys take Missouri to the house and at first, Jenny (the widow) is very uneasy about letting them in. But then Missouri tells her that she can sense that Jenny is scared. That Jenny feels like there's something in her house that wants to harm her and her family. Jenny lets them in and Missouri takes them up to the daughter's room. Missouri tells the boys that if there are spirits here, this room should be at the center of it because it used to be Sam's nursery. In other words, this is the room where Mary Winchester was murdered. After some further investigation, Missouri concludes that there's not just one spirit here but two. A poltergeist (which is the one trying to cause harm to Jenny and her family) and another spirit Missouri can't quite figure out yet. 

They have Jenny and her family leave the house for a couple of hours so they can perform a ritual that will exorcise the spirits from the house. By burying these four different poultice bags in four different corners of the house, it should get rid of the spirits. Missouri warns the boys that it'll get a little bit dicey for them once the spirits realize what they're doing. And dicey it gets. The poltergeist tries to skewer Dean with a bunch of knives and attempts to strangle Sam with a lamp chord. They finish and while Missouri says the spirits are gone, Sam still has a feeling that it's not over yet. 

Sam and Dean continue to monitor the house overnight and thankfully they did because Sam's nightmare starts to come true. Jenny starts banging on her bedroom window begging to be saved just as she did in Sam's nightmare. Our heroes burst in. Dean saves Jenny and gets her out of the house. Sam gets the kids and is able to push them out of the house before the poltergeist grabs him and locks him inside the house. Dean is eventually able to get through the door. When he finds Sam in the kitchen, Sam is being held against the wall by an invisible force and the burning figure approaches. Dean gets ready to shoot the figure but Sam tells him to stop. He knows who the burning figure is now. It's then revealed to be none other than Mary Winchester. Sam and Dean have this very tearful encounter with the spirit of their mother before her mother destroys the poltergeist while destroying herself as well. 

The family is at last safe to live in this house and the brothers head back on the road. The episode continues on with Missouri entering her office and finding none other than Papa Winchester there. He asks if it's true that Mary's spirit is gone. That she sacrificed herself to save the boys. Missouri tells him it's true and also reprimands him for staying away from his sons. But John is insistent that this is the best way for whatever reason. And the episode ends.

Thoughts

I really love this episode. I love everything about it. The characters are fantastic here. The story being told is amazing. We learn more about Sam and Dean's past and we really get a look into what exactly Mary's death did to everyone. With John, he lost the love of his life, the mother of his children, and it lead him to thinking of nothing but revenge on the creature who essentially took away his and his family's innocence. For Dean, it's a source of great trauma. And Sam, it leaves him with loneliness. Of him never really getting to know who his mother was, what she was like. There's a void in him that's never going to be filled because he remembers nothing of Mary.

The trauma arc that the boys go through in this episode is just so fantastic and moving. I love it so much. I just love that these normally tough men suddenly become the children they used to be when they’re forced to go back home. As most people become when they head back to their childhood home. There are so many fantastic Winchester emotional moments in this episode. I particularly like the moment when Dean calls his father, he has no idea if his father is getting his messages, but he needs his father's help. Being back home has made him feel like that same scared little kid he was when his mother first died, he doesn't understand what's going on, he doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't know if he can save this family. 

Then of course the good-bye Mary gives her sons was so beautiful. Dean can hardly believe what he's seeing and Sam, seeing his mother for the first time, he's overcome with emotion. I just loves what she says. "I'm sorry." To which Sam replies, "For what?" She just smiles and tells the poltergeist to leave before expelling her energy. The emotions in this scene were just so raw and powerful. The sacrifice also makes me think of the Season 12 finale. A kind of symmetry there, as well. I do feel like the boys are in a much better place in regards to their mother, having gone through this moment. That they found some sort of closure with it. They still want revenge of course but I feel like now they're in a place where they can move on, where they can finally start to heal a little. 

I enjoy Papa Winchester's brief appearence in this episode. Just in that one scene, you really see how much Mary meant to him and how much it meant to him when he finds out that Mary sacrificed herself to save their sons. It's such a small scene but it relays so much about John Winchester.

I also love Missouri here, as well. This is where the strong, bad-ass, no-nonsense women of Supernatural began. Missouri is blunt but caring, funny, and a crazy powerful psychic to boot. She refuses to put up with any of Dean's bullshit and even manages to knock him down a peg. She's great. I wish she'd show up in the series again. But alas, this is her first and only appearence, I believe. 

Favorite Quotes

MISSOURI: (to man) Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife's crazy about you. MISSOURI: (after man leaves) Poor bastard. His wife's cold banging the gardener. DEAN: Why didn't you tell him the truth? MISSOURI: People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news. She's not wrong. We visit psychics because we want to know what our future holds because we're afraid of what we can't see. We want hope. We want to find out that we're going to find our one true love or we're going to win the lottery, or there's a big promotion in our future. We don't want to find out that our future is going to lead us to become destitute and homeless, alone and lonely. We don't want to find out that there's nothing in our future.

DEAN: One thing's for sure. No one is dying in this house ever again. Dean being a protective bad-ass. Need I say more?

MISSOURI: (to Jenny) Don't you worry. Dean's going to clean up this mess. Missouri is just giving Dean the verbal smackdown for this entire episode and it is so much fun. I love Missouri so much.

I'd give this episode an A. I love this episode so much. The story is super engaging. What the characters are going through is super interesting to watch. Sam and Dean's character arc is wonderful. This is a fantastic episode. This is an example of a dramatic episode you get newcomers to watch so they can become as obsessed with the show as you are. Again, I love this episode so much. It is one of my top favorite episodes of Supernatural.

Well, that's all I have for you guys. I'd love to hear your thoughts if you have any. As always, be respectful of everyone's opinions and remember, no spoilers for Season 13.