The Goat and I are about six episodes into season one of Game of Thrones.
When did watching television become so hard? I can barely follow along. I'm constantly asking the Goat things like, "They're talking about the blond chick, right?"
The Goat is pretty good, but even he can get confused with the names. Snows and Drogos and bastards; bevies of Targaryens and Lannisters. Who can keep it all straight? We've nailed Ned Stark and his wife, and I like the dwarf. But it ain't easy, particularly considering the guys with the best secrets whisper them in thick brogues and wrap them in riddles.
"What'd he just say?"
"Dunno. Turn it up."
The fat guy is my favorite because he says exactly what's going on, talks really loud and he's always drunk. Why not? He's the king of the whole damn place. I told the Goat there should be a Game of Thrones fat-guy app that gives his narration whenever you lose the story line.
Touch fingertip to iPad and the fat guy would bellow, "The Hand does everything for me while I'm chasing wenches and swilling wine," or, "He tried to kill the kid by pushing him out the window because the kid saw him humping my wife!"
Enough of that.
Here is the rub: every blood-dripping fight scene, every swoop of the sword, every severed head has me gagging, covering my eyes, cringing and groaning. Surely I'm not alone, but I do maintain one thing: You can't really process the violence in Game of Thrones until you've been to a place like Armor Court in the Cleveland Museum of Art.
Think about it: take an outstanding fictional depiction and juxtapose it against the bold reality of hand-forged steel. The result is not subtle. After you've stood in front of a seven-flanged mace that may have actually splattered a man's brain, the fight scenes in GOT take on a whole new meaning.
Real suits of armor, tapestries worthy of castle walls woven by ladies and the terrifying weapons that defended it all are something to behold. You think about how much that lance and armor weigh when you're standing in front of them. After all, a flesh and blood man actually donned that breastplate and helmet.
A place like Armor Court lends a certain credibility to the television props used on GOT. And while pictures do the experience absolutely no justice, here you go just the same:
|Goat inspecting armor at the Cleveland Museum of Art|
So goes it my friends, bring on the winter, I can handle it.
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