I'm Filing My Nails; They're Dragging The Lake

Sunday night I committed the ultimate relationship sin: cracking open a new Netflix envelope to watch the Wire while your man’s away. Do I feel guilty? A little. I didn’t hide it well. Yo Han knew instantly when he saw me what I’d been up to, probably because he would have done the same if left alone.

Like many facets of pop culture, I arrived a little late to the discovery that the Wire is, in fact, the best drama ever created for television. The show’s fifth and final season just wrapped. And like all white people (apparently), I’ve become hopelessly addicted to the show. The problem is, I can’t quite put my finger on why. I don’t like crime shows (the CSI franchise, Law&Order, what have you). The writing is good, but it’s certainly not the best I’ve ever seen on television.

As I sat on my couch watching the Baltimore police lift the body of Frank Sobatka from the harbor, I began to reflect on why I like the show so much. In the end, it’s the character development. I can’t say anything on this space that hasn’t been said before about the complexity of the characters the show’s producers created. So I’ll leave that to them.

There’s something wholly satisfying about watching flawed characters, people you root for sometimes, and other times think are pricks (I’m looking at you Detective McNulty). At one point, Omar Little (my favorite character) helps a cop fill out a crossword puzzle by giving him the answer Ares, the Greek god of war. “Back in middle school, I used to love them myths. That stuff was deep. Truly,” Omar says.  The whole scene is a masterpiece. Watch it.

Indeed. That stuff is deep. There must be something in our reptilian brains that need these myths, that demand stories of less-than-perfect characters and the lessons they teach us. It’s like Elliot “Whore” Spitzer and his fall from grace this week. There’s something endlessly compelling in the story of a self-appointed crusader against injustice racking up $80K on hookers. We love it when you fly too close to the sun, your wings go all soft, and down you fall.