Tony Who?

Apparently some television show called “The Sopranos,” which apparently is not about four blue-haired ladies in a small town church choir as I had originally assumed, has reached some sort of remarkable denouement that has generated much buzzulation on the Internets.

I josh, of course. Although I have seen only a small handful of episodes because (A) I don’t subscribe to HBO or other premium movie channels and (B) even if I did, the ratio of F-Bombs to nouns and verbs is much too high for me to allow it into my living room.

I know that will sound like I’m Mrs. Prudence McUptight to the average Internet denizen. And I know with even greater certitude that I do not care. If James Gandolfini himself walked into my house carrying a gift Rolex and the keys to a new Mercedez and started talking like that, I’d toss him out on his ear.

I have no doubt that the show is brilliantly written and acted. In fact, one of the cable channels has recently started running episodes will all the F-bombs dub-replaced with “freakin’.” And I’ve enjoyed watching it. Of course, the purists are surely rolling their eyes so hard they’re in danger of popping out and flying across the room at the desecration of the original script.


Here’s James Lileks this morning offering, mid-Bleat, his thoughts about the final episode. He liked it.