[I have started watching Smallville again. Please send condolence cards to...]
New theories:
1) The writers work in a room made entirely of meth. They arrive bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and five minutes later they're making the same mistakes over and over again and finding it really fascinating.
2) The writers have taken out an insurance policy on me because they know if Chloe really marries Jimmy Olsen, I'm likely to have an apoplectic fit right there in my friend's living room, on the comfy loveseat I've been pounding in frustration for three weeks now.
I guess by now it's no secret that I am what's known as a "Chlark" shipper (for the purposes of the show: in my heart, I long for Chloe and Lex to take over Metropolis from a really nice apartment, maybe something they built above the former Club Zero, because the reward for being a smart person should be getting another smart person who loves you). Every time Tom Welling and Allison Mack appear in a scene together, it feels as if Chloe and Clark are about to leap into each other's arms. You would think this is the kind of chemistry casting directors dream of on a show where Clark Kent falling for a reporter is an easy reach, yes?
But oho! The poststructuralists who run this particular take on the Superman legend are so far having none of it. Yesterday's episode featured a flashback to Chloe and Clark's first kiss as pre-adolescents, and was the first sweet moment I've seen on Smallville in ages...and which was immediately cheapened by having Clark erase Chloe's memory of his superpowers.
Because when thousands of people write fan letters saying they want Clark and Chloe back the way they used to be, naturally they were pining for all the times Chloe heard a superspeed whoosh and wondered where the hell Clark had got to.
It's not too late for them to fix this, but I refuse to put my faith in the people who brought us Doomsday the EMT.
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