Last night’s True Blood, “Me and the Devil,” was another week of not much going on, but a lot of pieces were moved into place for things to go batshit in the weeks to come. For now we’re treated to some heavy philosophy, bouncing from religious freedom to heaven and hell to the nature of evil. Spectral Godric makes a very bad appearance, Adele makes a very good one from the Great Beyond, Lettie Mae resurfaces, King Bill’s life gets a little worse, Jason’s life gets a little better, and Tommy becomes a skinwalker. Best part? Not a single second in Horrible Hot Shot.

What about War and Self-Defence?

Joe-Lee’s still got that chain around Tommy’s neck at the top of the hour, and Melinda is running around alternating yelling at Joe-Lee not to kill Tommy and Tommy to be nicer to his dad. Melinda has gone from being tragic victim of violence to full-on crazy lady for me. Kill ‘em both, Tommy. And he does! Hurray! He plays dead a little, then brains Joe-Lee with a pipe. He keeps having to throw his crazy mama off his shoulder, and eventually Melinda doesn’t get up from one of those falls. “Mama?” he gaps into the credits.

Last night’s Gossip Girl, “It-Girl Happened One Night,” sadly does not feature anyone hiking up her skirt in order to hitch a ride. It does, however, feature a Valentine’s vendetta, a really ugly side of Chuck, and further Damien menace. Also Blair and Dan, if you care about that sort of thing.

Blair doesn’t care about your photo-cles

Serena apparently wanders around in a men’s dress shirt and knee socks regardless of where she wakes up. Aw, she buys her own men’s dress shirts! So Blair’s been très busy at W, and it’s either the day before Valentine’s Day or the day before that or even the day itself (we all know how time works on the UES), but the point is that she’s working a lot, so Serena never sees her. Still, they sit down in Blair’s bed and love on each other for a while. Serena gets a plot for the episode by revealing that she and Ben decided not to spend VD together because their relationship is new and doesn’t need the pressure. And while I agree that they don’t, I don’t see why it didn’t occur to them to do something small and simple, nor why Blair didn’t suggest it. Perhaps because she’s too busy reminiscing about the “own private bacchanal,” sans goats, that she and Chuck has last year. Also -- and this is a big continuity problem if you ask me -- Blair still thinks that Chuck’s relationship with Raina is a fake and that they will find their way back to each other eventually. While I agree with the latter, poor Blair to think the former. Also, it sounded a bit like she was talking about Serena and Dan, which grossed me out for even thinking it.

Thought Blair may have said it in “The Townie,” Gossip Girl most assuredly is an Ouija board. And what Gossip Girl predicts is downfall for Lily, of all people. Find out how.

Nemesis

Blair and Dan are strolling and recapping, but, since I’ve already done the hard work, I’m skipping this. What’s missing is Juliet’s motive, and only Blair can understand: “There is only one motive to fuel a gaslighting as powerful as this: retribution.” She should know, having tried to Ostroff Serena once before. They remember when Serena was briefly allied with the Parisian police, so they decide ask the crime fighter herself for her insight into Juliet’s dark mind.

Last week’s The Vampire Diaries, “Katerina,” dealt us a heavy blow of exposition, but it was far more lively and interesting than boring ol’ “Memory Lane.” There was so much going on here that we better just dig right in.

“The” Curse

First, a bit of housekeeping: every time someone says “the curse,” you might think that they are talking about one curse, but you are wrong. Even saying “the sun and the moon curse” is still conflating ideas. From now on there are three (3!) curses : 1) the sun curse, aka the curse that restricts vampires to the night; 2) the moon curse that turns werewolves under the full moon; and 3) the Petrova curse. Speak of the devil . . .

It’s November, which means it’s Blair’s birthday, and I don’t even care that “War of the Roses” would have me believe Blair licks her own envelopes. Surely they have one of those giant machines that you run the envelopes through like we have at work. If not, Dorota would be using one of those sponge rollers. It doesn’t matter, though, since last night’s Gossip Girl isn’t wholesale about sex, as the preview would have you believe, but about treaties and double crosses and everyone being in the dark about everyone else. Classic Gossip Girl as would befit the birthday of a queen.

Article 49: Strip Clubs of the Outer Boroughs are ceded to Chuck Bass

Blair’s pretending to eat breakfast with Eleanor, who flew back from Paris to throw Blair an early birthday party. Cyrus sent a signed copy of Eleanor Roosevelt’s This I Remember. Blair invites Dorota upstairs for a dramatic reading of page 1 before she heads out to meet Serena.

Last night we hit up Bluesfest for Hole, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and Louis C.K. I wasn't entirely sure how we were going to see Joan and Louis simultaneously, but we figured we'd give it a try. At the information tent, a nice man informed us that we would need to get a stamp in order to leave the main festival area, cut through the War Museum, and pop into the comedy tent. No problem.

After Hole's set, featuring a delightfully spacey Courtney Love demanding cigarettes and set changes to reflect her bluesy birthday mood, we zipped around trying to figure out where we could get these magical stamps. Turns out what you actually need to do is get your ticket scanned as you leave and then again when you re-enter.* As we prepared to enter the comedy stage, my best friend's ticket scanned easily, while mine caused a giant red STOP to appear on the screen. Some sort of manager took me aside to explain that Louis C.K. is "a $45 dollar ticket, and they're sold out." Reasons why this is bullshit:

• When purchasing our tickets, we told the girl at the kiosk in the Rideau Centre that we want to go see Louis C.K. At no point did she mention that that requires some sort of additional fee.
• We bought out tickets at the same place, at the same time, and paid the same price. So why does one get in and one get left out?

In the end we caught all of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' amazing set, so there's no real harm done, except for the part where it's bootsauce not to tell people that they are going to have to pay more. That's it! That's all you have to do! Just tell them. So, if you are planning to go see Lewis Black on July 17, that's going to be an additional $45. And the tickets are probably sold out.

Last night's episode of True Blood, "It Hurts Me, Too," was filled with lots of important lessons: how to dispose of dead bodies, how to conceal the identities of dead bodies, how to use dead bodies to manipulate people. In addition to dead bodies, "It Hurts Me, Too" also contained the two weirdest sex scenes this show has ever had and the werewolf equivalent of Fangtasia. Show, don't ever change.

Dead Body Disposal: Find a Fresh Grave

Sookie fires her gun, but Eric jumps in the bullet's path. They need the werewolf alive to question him. The scent of Eric's blood returns the wolf to human form, and it's the same stringy haired dude from outside Merlotte's. He starts sucking down Eric's blood, but Eric manages to get the upper hand long enough to demand who his master is. They tussle. The wolf tries to bolt, so Sookie shoots him in the leg. The wolf refuses to give up his master's name, knowing he's dead either way, so Eric agrees by ripping the wolf's throat out. From the look on Eric's face after he takes a bite, werewolf tastes nasty. Eric looks up at Sookie, blood rapidly pooling, "I got your rug all wet." Dirty! Also, I can't believe the Stackhouse rez has any carpets in it, given how often they would need to be scrubbed. Hardwood flooring is the only way to go.

I get that it's the last season and all, but moving Supernatural to Fridays at 9 p.m.? After the apparently immortal Smallville? When a show's so bad that even I stop watching it, how bad do you think it must be? The Vampire Diaries followed by Supernatural was one of the most perfect fits ever seen on that network. The WB once paired Buffy the Vampire Slayer with 7th Heaven, for pity's sake.

Also, there is no point in yet another Nikita since this one is unlikely to star Roy Dupuis, famous Canadian hottie actor.

Gossip Girl remains as it was, so at least we can comfort ourselves with that.

Just like you always knew it would. Yes, one of the most important props in the history of television, Supernatural's third main character, saved the world in "Swan Song." It's about time that car got its props instead of a girly dreamcatcher in the trunk and Sam sticking a knife in her upholstery two weeks ago. 'Bout time she got some respect.

And that's about all that happened last Thursday. I know 'cause I watched the episode twice. Now, I feel kind of bad for beating up on the show, especially since a) I heard this was how the show's finale was supposed to go down, sixth season renewal be damned, b) endings are indeed difficult, and c) they have a lot of live up to, finale-wise. I mean, CRASH!, Sam dies/Dean sells his soul, Dean goes to Hell, Sam unleashes Lucifer? This show never pulls its punches in a finale. The latter no doubt plays a role in why this finale was such a let down. That, and it was boring as fuck.

I love the Ackles, I love Padalecki, I love the Ackles and Padalecki together (dirty!). But let me tell you something: I would not have built a finale around 18 million conversations between the two of them, punctuated by Padalecki making faces at himself in the mirror. That's just not the way I would have gone. 

If you've seen any advertising for this summer's Christopher Nolan/Leonardo DiCaprio thriller Inception, you can be forgiven for wondering what this movie is about it. In fact, both Nolan and DiCaprio have been incredibly tight-lipped about things like, oh, the general plot or even the characters that appear in the movie. Shocking, then, when Warner Brothers released this plot description:

Acclaimed filmmaker Christopher Nolan directs an international cast in an original sci-fi actioner that travels around the globe and into the intimate and infinite world of dreams. Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a skilled thief, the absolute best in the dangerous art of extraction, stealing valuable secrets from deep within the subconscious during the dream state, when the mind is at its most vulnerable. Cobb's rare ability has made him a coveted player in this treacherous new world of corporate espionage, but it has also made him an international fugitive and cost him everything he has ever loved. Now Cobb is being offered a chance at redemption. One last job could give him his life back but only if he can accomplish the impossible—inception. Instead of the perfect heist, Cobb and his team of specialists have to pull off the reverse: their task is not to steal an idea but to plant one. If they succeed, it could be the perfect crime. But no amount of careful planning or expertise can prepare the team for the dangerous enemy that seems to predict their every move. An enemy that only Cobb could have seen coming. This summer, your mind is the scene of the crime.

And then Ellen Page does something, I guess. Gets implanted, maybe? Or maybe she's a thing that Cobb loved and lost. Whatever, DiCaprio plays a character, that character has a job and a plan. Good start.

It's pretty well established at this point that Putin is one scary motherfucker. Not only that, but he seems to have some sort of deep seated inferiority complex that results in his "anything you can do, I can do better" shenanbons. This week Foreign Policy posted a neat little guide to five world leaders' phobias (apparently Dubya is afraid of horses). Putin, natch, is not among them. Instead, the Putin tidbit appears on Angela Merkel's slide. Merkel was bitten by a dog as a small child and naturally developed a phobia as a result of the trauma. And how sensitive is Putin? This sensitive:

Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, a master of psychological diplomacy, has repeatedly attempted to take advantage of Merkel's fear. In 2006, the then-president perplexed German diplomats by presenting the chancellor with a small dog as a gift and made a habit of having his black Labrador, Koni, sit in on their meetings.

Is he really that threatened by Merkel or is he just that big a dick? You decide.

Even though last night’s episode, “The Sixteen Year Old Virgin,” was funny, moved things along at a good pace, and used GG voiceovers correctly, it also made no sense. Gossip Girl, who are you trying to play?

The Con

Saints be praised, Elizabeth (née Evelyn) is indeed conning Chuck. Evil Uncle Jack Bass returns with a goatee, a smirk, and an axe to grind (how effed up do you have to be that your 19 year-old nephew is your worst enemy?). There’s a multi-plaintiff lawsuit against Empire and Chuck, claiming he’s been sexually harassing the staff. Chuck may have pulled that sort of thing over at the Palace but “not in my hotel, and not to you [Blair].” Aw. Jack claims no responsibility for the lawsuit, but he plans to reap the benefits (methinks he will end up reaping the whirlwind instead). Jack does, however, plant enough doubt Chuck’s mind that Chuck grabs a sneaky DNA sample (Elizabeth’s glass) to send off to the lab. First Blair catches him and is appalled, and then Elizabeth shows up to express disappointment that Chuck won’t trust her and let her in. Are you kidding, show? Are you kidding? I realize that Gossip Girl isn’t Veronica Mars, but the dead mom appears from parts unknown after 20 years of not being involved and suddenly wants a relationship with her billionaire son now that the only person who could identify her (Bart) is dead? The only right thing to do is get a DNA test. Not only that, but Chuck should also have his accountants show him proof the Elizabeth Fisher has been receiving yearly “stay away” payments from Bart.

A few weeks ago, I went to see Shutter Island. In the wing seating, a lady started yelling at some people as they exited during the end credits. It wasn't clear exactly what she was on about, but, naturally, my sympathy was with the older lady over the "young punks." As a remix of Dinah Washington's "This Bitter Earth" played over the end credits, my viewing companion and I discussed how copyright issues over this very song kept Killer of Sheep, one of the greatest American movies ever made, from being seeing by the wider public for 30 years. Unfortunately discussing exactly what we are hearing during the end credits was too much for the now obviously old lady, who started yelling at us to "STOP TALKING!" Just in case you were wondering, according to crazy old ladies who scare away even their minders with their yelling, "OUTSIDE IS FOR TALKING!" You know, during the end credits in a mostly empty theatre. I'll admit to you that I was actually upset by the lengthy tongue lashing we got for, in my opinion, doing nothing wrong. 

This morning I read this story in the L.A. Times, and apparently it could have been much worse. Not to make light of the situation because it is terrible, but a meat thermometre? They left and came back with a meat thermometre? How desperately do you want to stab someone that you could leave and come back with the thing that tells you if your turkey is done? Also, stop talking on your cell phone, violent jackass.

As shows go, Supernatural requires greater suspension of disbelief than most. So long as you can pass muster, Supernatural is also a rewarding viewing experience. All we ask in return is that the show follows its own internal logic.

Unfortunately, it hasn't always done so. In the fourth episode of season one, Sam and Dean encounter a demon for the first time, but much of what we learned then about demons and how they operate didn't apply to Meg, her brother, or Azazel toward the end of the season. It was early days, so we could chalk it up to the writers figuring exactly where they were going with this whole "demon" thing (answer: down the rabbit hole).

Since those early bumps in the road, though, the show has been pretty careful to only deviate from its established rules when it's within reason, like when we learned that the Trickster is really the archangel Gabriel in the excellent episode "Changing Channels." Last night's episode, "My Bloody Valentine," however, decided to bite its thumb at us. 

It's a truth universally acknowledged that there an Academy member in possession of a ballot is in want of taste. Combine that truth with the fact that this has been a crap year for movies, yet the best picture category has been expanded to 10 nominations, and you're set for disappointment. You can view the complete list of nominations here. Expect to say "No" at least once per (major?) category. Actually, I'll do it for you:

Performance by an actor in a leading role

• Jeff Bridges in "Crazy Heart" (Fox Searchlight)
• George Clooney in "Up in the Air" (Paramount in association with Cold Spring Pictures and DW Studios)
• Colin Firth in "A Single Man" (The Weinstein Company)
• Morgan Freeman in "Invictus" (Warner Bros.)
• Jeremy Renner in "The Hurt Locker" (Summit Entertainment)

No:  George Clooney and Morgan Freeman. Yes: George Clooney, "Fantastic Mr. Fox," Sharlto Copley, "District Nine." Also wouldn't have minded an out-of-left-field, Johnny Depp/Pirates of the Caribbean-style nod (not a win, mind) for Robert Downey Jr. in Sherlock Holmes, but I guess he got one of those last year.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role

• Matt Damon in "Invictus" (Warner Bros.)
• Woody Harrelson in "The Messenger" (Oscilloscope Laboratories)
• Christopher Plummer in "The Last Station" (Sony Pictures Classics)
• Stanley Tucci in "The Lovely Bones" (DreamWorks in association with Film4, Distributed by Paramount)
• Christoph Waltz in "Inglourious Basterds" (The Weinstein Company)

No: Pretty much anyone who isn't Christoph Waltz. Yes: Everyone else in "The Hurt Locker," Peter Capaldi, "In the Loop."

I'm delighted to tell you that it didn't take all week to figure out how Vampire Diaries went from so-bad-it's-good to genuinely good. It was episode six, "Lost Girls." But first I had to slog my way through episode five, "You're Undead to Me." Okay, slog is a little harsh since the episode featured a car wash, which meant it featured lots of toned arms, but there's little of note except:

[REDACTED], a 31 year-old New Yorker, that's who! In a feature about why middle-aged moms are swooning over the Twilight series, NY Mag's Em & Lo not only found middle-aged New York women willing to openly admit to their Twi-Hard status but also to say weird things like that. I'm sort of bewildered because I find Pattinson odd-looking (I just do, it's nothing personal), but I'm not willing to begrudge [REDACTED] finding someone attractive nor do I see a problem with her liking Twilight. As my mom always says, there's no accounting for taste.

I'm definitely bewildered by the fridge-photo connection, though. I also have photos on my fridge. They're of people I know, personally, IRL.

Dear Supernatural writers,

You know I love you, and I hate to hate, but someone needs to explain this to me: why is Dean's plan to end Armageddon killing the devil? Last night, as we knew they would, Dean and Sam got a bead on the Colt, a MacGuffin I sort of wish you'd drop, and off they raced to find it. Because Dim Dean's ridiculous plan, in case this wasn't clear, is to attempt to kill the devil with it.  

Now here's the angels plan, which Dean refuses to go along with: have Michael take over Dean's body, so Michael-in-Dean can kill Lucifer. If both plans end with a dead Devil and Dean very specifically does not want what the angels want, how can this be his best idea? Can't College Boy come up with something better? Won't killing the Devil have the exact same net result regardless of who accomplishes this goal? 

Earlier this month, some Brits voted Fitzwilliam Darcy, a.k.a. Mr. Darcy, third in a Mills & Boon most romantic literary character poll. Richard Sharpe, of Bernard Cornwell's series, came in second. Both of these men are rather dreamy, so it must take someone pretty special to take top honours. Who could it be, you ask? Mr. Rochester, of course.

And by of course, I mean, "WTF?" Never mind his "grim" looks, the hero of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, isn't a good romantic partner! He leads another woman on, letting her believe that they will be married, in order to make Jane jealous (the story, unfortunately, suggests that the other woman gets what she deserves for being shallow), and, when he does get Jane, he neglects to mention that, oh, by the way, he's married to someone else. Sexy!

Mr. Darcy may be excessively proud, but one refused proposal from Elizabeth causes him to examine his attitudes and completely redress his behaviour. This never happens in real life. Mr. Rochester only straightens out when he almost dies in a fire. Honestly, Britons.

On Thursday my friends and I stopped by the Metric show on our way over to see Iron & Wine. Metric wasn't known to me at the time, but they put on a good show. That Emily knows how to rock.

As we danced and maintained what we thought was a respectful distance between our group and the people in front of us, a pair of Titans and their Amazonian girlfriends decided that to fill that space. At 8:30. For an 8 o'clock show. Yes, four people who were 5'10" at their shortest decided the very best place they could stand when they showed up half an hour late was directly in front of three women who are 5'4" at their tallest. 

Shouting things like, "EXCUSE ME!" "WHAT THE FUCK?" and "COULD THEY BE ANY TALLER?!" produced no results (let it never be said that Metric plays too quietly), so that's when you stepped in, White T-Shirt. You had been there the entire time, moving gracefully on your own at a respectful distance. You knew injustice when you saw it.