It's funny, I've been looking forward to and dreading this last episode of Mad Men for so very long now. Of course I have enjoyed the series but sometimes it has gotten a little too surreal for me. I'm not complaining about the writing, the scripts. I mean that it seems to have gotten into my reality on occasion.
Now, you don't have to tell me that that's what good writing is about. I know that. I'm talking about the connections with my heart and my brain in a very fundamental way.
A month ago I wrote a blog that I called "Buy Me A Coke." No big deal. The title was really the whole enchilada for me, however, in this case. It was my hiding yet another plea for help. The world seemed to be the "Buy The World A Coke" ad and I was feeling desperate for mine.
The scenario that I presume that we were supposed to come away with last night was that once Don Draper could give in to love and compassion and empathy, he could be the real man that he was born to be. The concept of agape freed him and opened him to do his best work.
I'm no more Don Draper than you are. I do believe in a collective consciousness and I am aware that the suffering all around me is a reminder of my great, good fortune. This love thing is all we've got. Einstein knew.
So, what was his big identity secret? I stopped watching early on.
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