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Jon
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Midway through the fifth season of Game of Thrones, Aemon Targaryen, the centenarian maester at Castle Black, advises Jon Snow to mature in his new role as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.
“Kill the boy, Jon Snow,” Maester Aemon says. “Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” This speech gives the episode its title and sets in motion the series of events that will lead Jon to Hardhome, the site of Thrones’ most spectacular fight scene.
Sunday’s Season 2 premiere of Thrones prequel House of the Dragon twists that stirring sentiment and, in so doing, transforms both its message and the entire story of which it is a part. Queen Helaena Targaryen’s shocked “They killed the boy” is a scarring statement of fact rather than a confident command, the aftermath of trauma rather than the prelude to a glorious battle. It serves as the last line of the episode, fittingly named “A Son for a Son”—leaving viewers to marinate in the nauseating horror they just witnessed for a full week before House of the Dragon’s next episode airs.
Dragon’s Season 2 premiere functions much like Thrones’ pilot episode all the way back in 2011, which mostly introduced viewers to this fictional world and set the scene for further action—only to end with stunning, appalling violence against a child. The difference is that in Thrones, Bran Stark survived his fall out a window and ultimately became king; in Dragon, little Jaehaerys Targaryen, disputed heir to the Iron Throne, most certainly did not survive his beheading at the hands of two hired assassins, which makes this moment—the sort of showstopping scene for which Thrones was revered—even more grotesque.
But first, before the child carnage, Dragon invites viewers back to Westeros with a new intro decked out with Targaryen-themed tapestries and an opening scene set in the familiar, snowy clime of Winterfell and the Wall. As is typical of a season premiere in this franchise, “A Son for a Son” surveys the important players in the realm after the dramatic conclusion of Season 1, when King Viserys died, Aegon II and Rhaenyra received dueling crowns, and the mighty dragon Vhagar, ridden by Aemond One-Eye, killed Lucerys Velaryon and his dragon.
The new season opens with Rhaenyra’s son Jace at the Wall, recruiting military aid—in the form of 2,000 grizzled Northerners—from the Starks. It then zooms through the other key members of Team Black: Rhaenys with her dragon, Meleys the Red Queen; vengeful, fiery Daemon; Corlys with his ships; and Rhaenyra, who’s searching for her dead son’s corpse. The opposing greens are all in King’s Landing, for now: Aegon has taken to sitting the Iron Throne, while Alicent and sworn-to-celibacy Criston Cole have taken to, well, a different sort of sitting.
Civil war is imminent but ostensibly has not yet begun, even though first blood has been drawn. Rhaenyra “needs an army. War is coming,” Jace tells Cregan Stark in the opening scene. Meanwhile, in King’s Landing, Otto Hightower forecasts “eventual fighting,” and Alicent still speaks in conditionals: “If we loose the dragons to war, there will be no calling them back.”
That “if” will surely change to a “when” once all the characters learn what transpired in the darkness of the Red Keep at the end of the episode. Earlier, Rhaenys notes approvingly that Rhaenyra has “not acted on the vengeful impulse that others might have.” But finding Luke’s mangled body on the beach removes that caution; when Rhaenyra returns to Dragonstone, vengeance is the only motive on her mind.
“I want Aemond Targaryen,” Rhaenyra declares, and the episode emphasizes this singular focus by making these her only words across the hour. The rest of Emma D’Arcy’s performance as a grieving mother is delivered through facial expressions and tears, most poignantly in Rhaenyra’s reunion with her eldest son, Jace, who breaks down while imparting news of his successful alliances in the Vale and North.
The ensuing sequence is the most beautiful one of the episode, as director Alan Taylor cuts between Luke’s wordless, emotional funeral and Alicent’s prayers at a sept in King’s Landing. (Not that sept; this prequel takes place before the construction of Cersei Lannister’s future wildfire target.) Alicent lights a candle for her dead mother (presumably; she’s gone unnamed until now), for Viserys, and then—after a contemplative pause—for Luke. Alicent even names him “Lucerys Velaryon,” despite her prominent Season 1 role in fostering doubts about Laenor Velaryon’s legitimacy as Luke’s father.
Alicent still hopes to avoid “wanton” violence, she says. But what comes next, as Aegon carouses with friends in the throne room and Alicent and Criston continue their tryst in her chambers, can’t help but plunge the realm into full-blown war. It’s the manifestation of Rhaenyra’s desire for vengeance—and the on-screen depiction of the most heinous event George R.R. Martin has devised in the whole A Song of Ice and Fire corpus.
Daemon sneaks into King’s Landing, where he enlists a City Watchman and a Red Keep ratcatcher—called Blood and Cheese in the source text—to sneak into the castle to fulfill Rhaenyra’s command. When Cheese asks, “What if we can’t find him?” Daemon grins, and the camera cuts away, but his next instructions seem clear. Once the duo enters the castle, Blood reminds his assassin partner, “‘A son for a son,’ he said.”
Their search for a green son is shot like a horror film, with flickering candlelight; shadowy, abandoned rooms; and the clangor of a thunderstorm echoing from the stones outside. Eventually, Blood and Cheese stumble upon Helaena and her two royal children. The last the camera shows of the assassins is a large hand descending over the tiny face of 6-year-old Jaehaerys Targaryen—“He’ll be king one day,” a proud Aegon declares earlier in the episode—before it pivots to Helaena as she scoops up her daughter, flees the murder scene, and runs downstairs to find Alicent.
“They killed the boy,” Helaena says, and the episode ends, dangling over a cliff.
Thrones never shied away from depravity and in fact often took steps to amplify Martin’s most violent scenes on the screen. The first victim of the show’s Red Wedding is Robb Stark’s pregnant wife, who’s stabbed in the belly, whereas in the book, Robb’s wife doesn’t attend the wedding trap at the Twins. (In fact, Martin said a decade ago that book Robb’s wife would appear, still alive, in the Winds of Winter prologue.)
But Dragon actually tones down the horror of this vengeful murder. In Fire & Blood, the source text for Dragon, Blood and Cheese sneak into the castle and kill a maid and a guard; tie up Alicent, who witnesses the atrocity; and corner Helaena and the queen’s children. Crucially, in the book, Aegon II and Helaena have a third child, 2-year-old Maelor, in addition to the twins who appear in the show. Then Cheese asks Helaena which son—Jaehaerys or Maelor—she wants to lose:
“Pick,” [Cheese] said, “or we kill them all.” On her knees, weeping, Helaena named her youngest, Maelor. Perhaps she thought the boy was too young to understand, or perhaps it was because the older boy, Jaehaerys, was King Aegon’s firstborn son and heir, next in line to the Iron Throne. “You hear that, little boy?” Cheese whispered to Maelor. “Your momma wants you dead.” Then he gave Blood a grin, and the hulking swordsman slew Prince Jaehaerys, striking off the boy’s head with a single blow. The queen began to scream.
Dragon didn’t show the killing blow (though the sawing sound and motion were gruesome enough). It also excised the second son and the haunting “Your momma wants you dead” line, replacing it with a confusing aside in which Blood and Cheese can’t determine which of the two sleeping children is the “son” and which is the royal daughter, and they ask Helaena to point out the boy. (Why can’t they check themselves? One even says they could inspect the children’s anatomy before trusting Helaena instead.)
But the sequence is still supremely sickening, even in this tamer form. The meta-storytelling result is a prime example of how Dragon, in its second season, will more closely imitate Thrones at its monocultural peak. And the in-universe narrative result will likely be a stronger push toward war, as the greens seek vengeance for Jaehaerys, just as the blacks sought vengeance for Luke. The wheel of violence spins on, crushing ever more victims.
After Jaehaerys’s death, it’s clearer than ever that Dragon’s showrunners are trying to emphasize how avoidable the disastrous Dance of the Dragons was. This civil war stems from mistakes and misunderstandings, from Alicent’s “too many Aegons” interpretation of Viserys’s dying words to Vhagar’s unsanctioned chomping of Luke—with Aemond shouting in vain, “No, Vhagar, no!”—to, now, the murder of a son that Rhaenyra didn’t want killed.
“If we loose the dragons to war, there will be no calling them back,” Alicent says, hours before learning from her traumatized daughter that her grandson has been killed. But as the Targaryens’ feuding factions commit increasingly abhorrent acts of violence against each other, that warning can encompass more than just the dragons. Once the massive machinery of war starts rumbling, it will be all but impossible to shut down.
Have HotD questions? To appear in Zach’s weekly mailbag, message him @zachkram on Twitter/X or email him at zach.kram@theringer.com.
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Zach Kram
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Rachel Lindsay and Callie Curry kick off today’s pod by discussing the unproductive lunch between the Fudas and the Ruelas on Season 14, Episode 6 of The Real Housewives of New Jersey (3:11) before jumping into a recap of Taleen’s chaotic party on Season 2, Episode 2 of The Real Housewives of Dubai (13:27). Then, Rachel and Callie discuss Part 2 of the Summer House Season 8 reunion (26:28) before Rachel is joined by none other than the Summer House breakout star himself—Jesse Solomon! Rachel and Jesse chat all about his new single, his theory for why things between West and Ciara fell apart, and his response to the internet’s collective desire for him and Amanda to get together (50:41).
Host: Rachel Lindsay
Guests: Callie Curry and Jesse Solomon
Producer: Devon Baroldi
Theme: Devon Renaldo
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Rachel Lindsay
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Obi-Wan Kenobi once said, “Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.” In that scene from Return of the Jedi, the master’s disembodied spirit explained to Luke Skywalker why a more corporeal Kenobi, back in Episode IV, had declared that Luke’s dad was dead when he was, in fact, inside the suit of Darth Vader. The real reason is that when George Lucas was making the first Star Wars movie, he hadn’t decided that Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one and the same. In universe, though, the line is more revealing than even Obi-Wan knew. Yes, from one perspective, Obi-Wan’s original contention to Luke was technically correct. But it was also comforting for Kenobi, in hiding on Tatooine (except for that one time), to think that his former Padawan was dead. He was deceiving himself as much as he was twisting the truth for his new protégé. As Kenobi told Ezra Bridger in Rebels, “The truth is often what we make of it. You heard what you wanted to hear, believed what you wanted to believe.”
The same principle seems to apply to Episode 3 of The Acolyte—and this time, too, those squirrely Jedi are directly involved. Last week’s two-part premiere reunited Mae and Osha, two Force-sensitive twins who hadn’t seen each other since a childhood calamity destroyed their settlement and family, leaving each one believing that the other was dead. “Destiny,” a roughly 40-minute flashback that begins and ends at the poisonous but beautiful bunta tree, takes us back to Brendok, where that incident transpired 16 years earlier. (In contrast to last week’s two-word titles, this week’s has one, presumably because the twins are still together.) If we accept the episode’s version of events, there’s a lot about the twins’ backstory—and the series’ central mystery—that doesn’t add up. Perhaps, then, what we’ve seen is simply a certain point of view, one just as skewed by motivated reasoning as Obi-Wan’s was.
Last week, I wrote that in light of Mae’s vendetta, Master Torbin’s Barash Vow and subsequent suicide, and Kelnacca’s off-the-grid digs, “the Jedi’s sins must be worse than the order’s standard cradle-robbing recruitment process.” Yet this week’s installment would have us believe that the Jedi on Brendok did nothing worse than thousands of other Jedi have done with thousands of other potential trainees. (Which, to be clear, is super sketch, but not something most Jedi seem to feel bad about.)
In the middle of the Ascension ceremony that will mark Mae and Osha as full-fledged witches of their mothers’ coven, Indara, Sol, Kelnacca, and Torbin burst in to politely request strongly suggest pointedly demand that the two girls take the Jedi entrance exam. Mae, who quite reasonably wants to be a witch and doesn’t want to leave her family forever, flunks on purpose. Osha, who wants to see the galaxy, tells the truth, passes the audition, and prepares to set off for Coruscant. In response, a seemingly sociopathic Mae decides to kill her sister rather than let her leave. She sets a fire outside Osha’s room that soon spreads and destroys everyone, save for Mae herself and Osha, whom Sol rescues.
Which, well, doesn’t make much sense. Not to be all “jet fuel can’t melt steel beams” about this, but it doesn’t track that a stone sanctuary would go up in flames. Or that the blaze would kill a whole clan of Force users. Or, for that matter, that Jedi with nothing to hide or flee would leave a bunch of bodies lying on the ground and whisk Osha away without trying to help anyone. This is Star Wars, so all of the above may be sloppy storytelling. But that seems unlikely, considering creator Leslye Headland’s repeated references to the Rashomon effect. “We started to get really influenced by Rashomon, and the themes of the show started to rise to the top of duality, seeing things from different points of view,” she told Entertainment Weekly in an interview about “Destiny.” “So it made sense to me that when you did go back in time, there are a lot of different ways to interpret an event that happened.”
Frankly, this series wouldn’t be very interesting if it turned out that the takeaway was that Mae was a monster who always wanted to Force pull the wings off a Brendok butterfly. (As we saw in the first scene, Osha briefly placed the winged creature in Force stasis, too—which might be why she reacted so strongly when Mae displayed the same impulse.) Nor would The Acolyte break any new narrative ground if it solely concerned the unintended consequences of kindly looking, well-intentioned but entitled Jedi taking immaculately conceived kids away from their moms. (See: the Star Wars prequels.) There must be more to the story.
There are plenty of downsides to “Destiny,” which was directed by Kogonada and written by Jasmyne Flournoy and Eileen Shim. Aesthetically speaking, The Acolyte looks like Andor in its on-location establishing shots—Brendok’s vistas rival those of Aldhani—and The Book of Boba Fett in its interiors. The latter look fine by broader small-screen sci-fi standards, but a bit cheap for big-budget Star Wars; instead of giving “galaxy far, far away,” its sets scream “soundstage somewhere in England.” (I’m the “They Can’t All Be Andor” guy, but compare the witches’ ritual to the Eye of Aldhani.) The extended flashback’s pacing and dialogue are uneven, and despite strong work from Jodie Turner-Smith as Mother Aniseya, the episode suffers from its reliance on child actors—two actors, a departure from the two-for-one approach to Amandla Stenberg’s adult twins—to sell its emotional moments. And though the Nightsister-inspired coven is conceptually cool, there’s something sorta hokey about the witches’ chants and gesticulations. Han Solo would say that the Jedi are hokey, too, but an underrated aspect of lightsabers is that they give you something to do with your hands. Moving your arms in circles to generate VFX-supplied power sometimes looks a little silly. (Just ask Benedict Cumberbatch.)
For now, though, I’m reserving judgment about the big beats that triggered my “Wait, why—?” response. I prefer to watch Star Wars series week to week when I’m recapping, so unlike a lot of critics, I haven’t seen Episode 4. I’m not saying I want the next chapter to be a full recounting of the same events from Mae’s POV—though if that’s what’s in store, they could call it “From My Point of View, the Jedi Are Evil”—but I’ll give it a week or two for the pieces to fall into place. (Give me more Kelnacca!)
Even though the truth remains murky by design, “Destiny” does convey a clear point. Although we’re watching primarily through the Jedi-pilled Osha’s 8-year-old eyes, the “deranged monks” (in Mother Koril’s words) come off as creepy cops. Lee Jung-jae makes it tough to root against the Qui-Gon-coded Sol, but consider what the character is doing when we first see him in this episode: skulking around a forest as he spies on little girls. The Jedi then slice the platform to coven HQ so that they can crash the witches’ sacred ceremony. They cite Republic law that doesn’t obtain on Brendok to justify their actions and dubiously claim that they thought the planet was uninhabited. (If that’s the case, what brought them there?)
On the surface, their visit is peaceful, but the subtext is clear. “Mother Aniseya, you cannot deny that Jedi have the right to test potential Padawans,” Indara says, but what gives them that right? Maybe might makes right: The implicit threat in her words is hardly leavened by her hasty “With your permission, of course.” (Especially since Sol insists on Mae taking the test against her will.) When Sol takes out his lightsaber, it seems for a second that he has violence in mind. The reality might be more disturbing: He’s using this “elegant weapon for a more civilized age” to tempt Osha away from her family. If that’s what she wants, so be it, but Sol may as well be handing out candy to kids to entice them into an unmarked van. (Children, don’t take sabers from strangers.) And then there’s Torbin, who takes a blood sample without warning or consent. There’s something almost vampiric about the Jedi’s descent on Brendok to harvest its young—except that, unlike vampires, the Jedi don’t ask to be invited in. At least the negotiations were short.
And hey, ever wonder how the witches wound up in exile? As Mother Aniseya says, “We were hunted, persecuted, forced into hiding, all because some would consider our power dark. Unnatural.” Hunted by whom, one wonders. Think the Jedi may have been among the multispecies coven’s persecutors? “This is about power and who is allowed to use it,” Mother Aniseya says. And though the witches are the ones chanting “the power of many,” the Jedi wield it.
If anything, this is all an overdue dragging of the Jedi MO: We’ve seen plenty of wholesome scenes—and one not so wholesome scene—of younglings in the Temple, but The Phantom Menace aside, we haven’t seen any on-screen depictions of how they get there. Sure, some families might see it as an honor to send a high-midi-chlorian-count kid to Coruscant, or they accept that the order will give their kid a better life than they can. But it can’t be the case that every Jedi’s parents handed over their kids without being coerced. And how many younglings do you know who would willingly leave their homes with cloaked visitors, never to return?
Granted, in light of their past wars with the Sith, it’s understandable that the Jedi would still be a tad sensitive to Dark Side–adjacent techniques. And unlike the Jedi, the coven seems comfortable dwelling in the gray. (Witness the witches’ mental takeover of Torbin.) The mysterious practices surrounding the twins’ birth may be forbidden fruit. “What happens if the Jedi discover how you created them?” Koril asks Aniseya. That question, and Aniseya’s allusion to the fact that “some” consider the coven’s power “unnatural,” echo Palpatine’s tale of Darth Plagueis the Wise.
In the now decanonized Legends timeline—which Headland is well versed in—Darth Plagueis and his apprentice, Darth Sidious (a.k.a. Palpy), inadvertently cause Anakin’s creation by messing with midi-chlorians to bring about life. (Mae and Osha mirror Anakin so closely that The Acolyte is starting to seem like a dry run for Episode I; “they have no father” is almost word for word what Shmi Skywalker said, and their Force screening is the same as Anakin’s.) If Aniseya performed a similar “miracle,” it’s hardly surprising that Osha and Mae would be of such interest to the Jedi and Sith. Remember, the prophecy from the prequels—which refers to a Chosen One “born of no father”—is an ancient one, and though this era appears peaceful, balance is easily lost.
It’s suspicious that before the Ascension, Aniseya and Koril seem to sense a disturbance—possibly a saboteur?—in the vicinity of the coven’s power core, which just as suspiciously explodes soon after Mae sets a small fire. (The fire-suppression system must not have been OSHA—ba-dum tsh—compliant.) I’m not necessarily saying that Brendok was an inside job; maybe Mae was framed by the Jedi or Sith in an effort to spirit the twins away. This may mean nothing, but there are two hooded figures who don’t blend in with the witches—a master and an apprentice?—behind Aniseya at the ceremony:
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Most suspicious of all: At the end of the episode, Torbin is visible in the background, bearing a fresh wound that will turn into the scar he sported in Episode 2. We haven’t seen how he got hurt, but the fire didn’t do it. Maybe the Jedi jumped to conclusions because of their bias against the coven—or were goaded into rash action by the Sith or Koril (whose body wasn’t shown).
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Despite the “witch” terminology, the “mother” honorifics, the bows and arrows, and the presence of a zabrak, Aniseya’s followers are not the Nightsisters. There’s plenty of precedent in canon and Legends alike for groups that have different conceptions of, and names for, the Force. This clan calls it the Thread, and they say they don’t see it as a “a power you wield” (although they sure like to talk about power). That difference may be mostly semantic because the Jedi and the coven are aligned on the fundamentals of the Force: that it links all living things and binds the galaxy together. Aniseya’s council even consists of 12 members, just as the Jedi Council does. More connects them than divides them, yet they’re hopelessly separate—not unlike the two twins who revolve around each other, like the blue and red celestial bodies in Brendok’s sky (which line up less and less as the twins’ paths part).
Speaking of intractable differences: That this franchise has become a culture-war battleground muddies discussions of any new release’s quality. As I write this, the IMDb user rating for “Destiny” is 4.0. However one feels about child actors, lackluster sets, and the flammability of stone, that number undoubtedly has more to do with the episode’s diversity (and lack of white dudes) than it does with any problems with the production or plot. (As Mother Aniseya says, “This is not about good or bad.”) Aniseya also says, “The galaxy is not a place that welcomes women like us,” which sounds like an accurate commentary on some portion of the Star Wars audience. Naturally, the trolling, harassment, and review bombing from that toxic quarter not only prompt righteous condemnations, but also, perhaps, elicit some overexuberant rave reviews intended to balance out bad-faith attacks. All of which makes it more difficult to assess the sentiments of viewers who approach this prequel without preconceptions.
Less online Star Wars watchers are probably blissfully unaware of this discourse, just as Mae and Osha were unaware of each other’s survival. These fans will watch, or they won’t; get engaged, or be bored; theorize, or write off the rest. Thus far, I think it’s OK to come down in the middle, much as the series so far ranks near the midpoint of recent Star Wars extremes. The Acolyte is neither a misfire nor an unalloyed narrative triumph. It’s neither another entry in the franchise’s traditional time frame nor a drastic departure from its typical content. I want to watch more of it, but I also want more out of it. Fortunately, five weeks remain. “You will never feel like this again,” Sol promises Osha. Maybe I’ll feel less ambivalence soon.
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Ben Lindbergh
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The golden crown was not supposed to fall off King Viserys Targaryen’s rapidly disintegrating head. But when it did, in the midst of a rehearsal three years ago for the HBO series House of the Dragon, it was like a light bulb turned on. In the emotionally and physically arduous Episode 8 scene, the ailing Viserys, played by Paddy Considine, staggers from the threshold of death’s door toward the cold, hard Iron Throne one last time. And during a run-through of this moment, down came that crown—and in came Matt Smith, who plays the king’s mercurial little brother, Daemon Targaryen.
Smith didn’t miss a beat, according to a bit of HotD lore that’s had a level of canonical dissemination that would please any maester. Daemon retrieved the golden adornment and placed it back on the king’s dome, and absolutely no one on set dared to stop rolling. Later, when Smith and Considine got together with director Geeta Patel to discuss how things went, “They were like, ‘We felt this,’” Patel told Entertainment Weekly in 2022. “‘This felt like the turning point in our relationship.’” When they shot the scene officially, they did so two ways: one in which the crown stays put, as originally planned, and one in which Daemon does his best you dropped this impression—which is what made the final cut.
And for good reason. The result is a steely, moving little salute of a scene, understated yet alive with fraternal and courtly devotion. It is also a callback to an earlier moment in the series when Daemon patches things up with his brother by relinquishing to him some super-meaningful driftwood. (This would absolutely work on me.) Almost no words are spoken during the exchange, yet the visual impact of the hale Daemon aiding and honoring the ghostlike husk of his older brother speaks volumes about recurring House of the Dragon motifs such as mortality and rivalry and family-first loyalty.
And then, less than five minutes later in the episode, we got another memorable, if totally tonally different, Daemon-crowning-someone-in-the-throne-room performance. So to speak.
In that scene, a disagreement over the line of succession for the maritime lands of Driftmark devolves into a passionate airing of grievances from Vaemond Velaryon, Daemon’s cousin’s brother-in-law, and/or Daemon’s daughters’ great-uncle, and so on. (This family tree is more like kudzu.) Vaemond shouts that the sons of Princess Rhaenyra, the heir to the Iron Throne, are “bastards” (fact check: true) and that the princess herself is “a whore.” (Well, now you’ve gone and done it, guy.) It’s enough to make Viserys summon enough dad strength to slowly rise to his feet, draw his blade, and shout: “I’ll have your tongue for that!”
Once again, Daemon is there to assist. It takes only one visceral swipe of his Valyrian steel sword to leave Vaemond resting in pieces right there on the throne room floor, silenced forever. “He can keep his tongue,” Daemon says as jaws hit the ground all around him, figuratively and literally.
In just a few minutes, these two fell swoops give a glimpse into the totality of Daemon Targaryen, from his savage, gruesome methods of showing and earning respect to his occasional flashes of humor and even grace. And they demonstrate why Daemon, for all his many, many problems, is such an electric guy to watch in House of the Dragon.
As Season 2 begins later this week, we know there will once again be crowns and bastards and killing, because this is Westeros, and there always are. We know that Daemon will loom large, both within the universe of the show and in real-world conversation. But what we don’t yet know—and what we may never learn—is what Daemon is truly thinking and wanting and feeling. When it comes to him, those sorts of things have never been black-and-white.
In the aftermath of Episode 8 last season, some of the minds behind House of the Dragon suddenly found themselves busy describing all of the people Daemon Targaryen is not. “He ain’t Paul Rudd,” one of the show’s writer-producers, Sara Hess, told The Hollywood Reporter, adding that the character had “become ‘Internet Boyfriend’” in a way that baffled her. Clare Kilner, a director, chimed in that Daemon is not “particularly a good father or a good brother,” either. “He’s not Ned Stark,” showrunner Ryan Condal told The New York Times as part of a minor rant about how it confused him to see so many viewers stan Daemon.
“I see Daemon as having heroic aspects to him, and I understand why people would,” Condal said. “I mean, he’s incredibly charismatic, he’s handsome, he looks great in that wig, he rides a dragon, he has a cool sword. I totally get it. But if you’re looking for Han Solo, who’s always going to do the right thing in the end, you’re in the wrong franchise, folks.”
Not Paul Rudd, Ned Stark, or Han Solo—OK, so then who is he? In 2018, when the author and general mastermind of Westeros, George R.R. Martin, was making the rounds to promote Fire & Blood—the book that House of the Dragon is based on—he was asked in a virtual Q&A to name his favorite person in the ancient, silver-haired, tight-knit Targaryen family.
“I’m notorious for my love of gray characters,” Martin responded, “and one of the grayest characters in the entire story of Westeros is Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince.”
Murderous and magnetic, Daemon loves to party, though you rarely see him belly laugh. He rides a dragon nicknamed “Blood Wyrm,” carries a sword called “Dark Sister,” was knighted as a teenager, and is not above pulling stunts like absconding with a dragon egg and holding it hostage for a while. In Fire & Blood, one passage reads:
Over the centuries, House Targaryen has produced both great men and monsters. Prince Daemon was both. In his day there was not a man so admired, so beloved, and so reviled in all Westeros. He was made of light and darkness in equal parts. To some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains.
Throughout Season 1 of House of the Dragon, we see all of these dualities at play. Daemon is, first and foremost, an unquestionably brave defender of the realm, fighting doggedly in all sorts of miserable locales—it has to smell foul in that Crabfeeder cave!—to help shore up and maintain his family’s material interests and its powerful name. And, in his own way, he’s also a worthy guardian of his brother—that is, when he’s not annoying or insulting Viserys to the point of getting exiled. (Hey, who among us hasn’t gotten kicked off a sibling’s turf at some point?) Daemon routinely seeks to protect the king from enemies, from allies (“I will speak of my brother as I wish,” he tells Corlys “the Sea Snake” Velaryon near the beginning of the show; “You will not”), and even from the king himself. “You’re weak, Viserys,” Daemon explains in the pilot episode. And he does have a point.
Like it or not, throughout much of the first season, Daemon is what peak performance in Westeros looks like. He has an aura that enables him to pull off both badass suits of armor and sketchy hooded cloaks. His glower is unrivaled; his bars are exquisite. He rules at lurking off to the side of places, smirking and observing like he’s Jared Catalano leaning up against a locker. He is a man of the people who sure does seem committed to ensuring that the Flea Bottom economy is always strong. Whatta guy, right?
But that’s only the half of it, the good half. There’s also the part of Daemon whose civic engagement in Flea Bottom involves, you know, bringing his teenaged niece Rhaenyra to a brothel where he seduces and then abandons her. Daemon is a dark dude who mocks his brother’s dead son, riles up a bunch of sadistic gold-cloaked vigilantes, ignores his own children, and pummels some poor, innocent courier for simply delivering a message. He is a boy who breaks his favorite toys—and all the other toys, for good measure.
Daemon does appear to genuinely live his values. It’s just that his values revolve around the Targaryen supremacist idea that, as a man possessing the blood of the dragon, he has not just the right but the duty to act like a fantastical, uncaged, fire-breathing monster whenever he wants, no matter whom it hurts.
I had thought it was pretty unkind that he referred to his first wife, Rhea Royce, as “the Bronze Bitch,” but that turned out to be nothing compared to the time he showed up unannounced in the Vale dressed like Evil Kermit just to bludgeon her to death with that divorce rock. And I’ll admit that—despite witnessing all of these behaviors, and despite having been informed that, in the books, Daemon is actually even more of a nightmare—I had still assumed that Rhaenyra, Daemon’s proud wife, stubborn niece, and High Valyrian–speaking buddy, would be spared from his icy-hot wrath. I was very, very wrong.
Of all the harrowing scenes in House of the Dragon’s Season 1 finale—Rhaenyra’s miscarriage, the dragons at war in the skies—it’s the moment when Daemon reaches out and grabs Rhaenyra by her throat that felt hardest to watch. “I think he has a sense of duty to his family, weirdly,” Smith once told the Los Angeles Times about Daemon. “I think he’d lie on his sword for his brother or Rhaenyra.” And yet. By the end of the first season, Viserys is dead, and Rhaenyra is being threatened by Daemon’s own hand. Without some sort of renewed gravitational force in his life, the Rogue Prince may risk spiraling out—and away into his own limitless darkness.
When Smith was cast as Daemon, he already had experience playing roles whose reputations far preceded his own. “Dr. Who?!” was a common early reaction to his 2009 selection, at the age of 26, as the eleventh Doctor in that storied, high-pressure franchise. When the ambitious historical drama The Crown debuted in 2016, Smith spent the first two seasons defining and refining a portrait of a young Prince Philip in all his prickly, handsome, second-banana glory—a performance that also helped Smith establish himself in the zeitgeist. (According to Smith, the real Prince Harry once shook his hand at a polo match and called him “granddad.”)
As a teenager, Smith had looked down on acting as “girly” and focused his time and energy on playing high-level soccer until a back injury forced him out of the game. Now, all these years later, he plays at being some of the world’s most well-known men—including ones who could not be less like Smith in real life.
In interviews, Smith exhibits a personality that’s so affable and cheeky and non-Daemon that I almost find myself needing to stop watching so as to not ruin House of the Dragon’s moody vibe. He has said that Daemon is probably a Scorpio, that Daemon would make a great vampire, and that Caraxes, Rhaenyra, and “a good night out on the town” are what keep his character grounded.
He has talked about how he slipped a disc in his neck and got a cut on his head during the filming of the show’s first season. And Jimmy Fallon asked him who would win in a fight: Daemon or Jon Snow? “Come on,” was Smith’s response. “Mate, I have a dragon. Listen, I have a lot of respect for Jon Snow. Jon Snow is a bad boy, don’t get me wrong. … But don’t get it twisted: I would fuck those brothers up.”
For all his merry whimsy, though, Smith is also quite comfortable harnessing the unsavory side of Daemon and the world in which he lives. Ever since he accepted the role, he has been all in—like really all in, willing to not only perform Daemon with unsettling aplomb on-screen, but also publicly make peace with the character’s often violent existence. “He’s got a weird moral compass—perverse and strange,” Smith told the Los Angeles Times about Daemon in 2022. “But nevertheless, there is a set of laws that he’s guided by.” During one press conference last week, Smith remarked, “I admire his conviction, his mistakes, and his actions. He’s like, ‘Fuck them all, man, this is how I’m gonna roll!’”
So, how might Daemon be rolling when Season 2 begins this week? One profile of Smith in Variety describes a “much weaker” character whose ostensibly shady attempts to look out for himself wind up drawing scrutiny and sowing distrust—especially with Rhaenyra. Interviewed on a CBS morning show recently, Smith hinted that audiences may notice Daemon vibrating at a rather different frequency from last season. “Softer, lazier, fatter, slower,” is how Smith described Daemon’s upcoming arc, sounding a bit like a Daft Punk fan designing a wine mom T-shirt. (Who can mock that up as a new house sigil?)
As for why Daemon might be rounding into his goblin era? “He’s sort of haunted by his demons, really, by ghosts, by apparitions,” Smith told CBS. “The weight of all the bad deeds that he’s done really comes home to roost, so to speak.” This is interesting to contemplate, considering that in the Season 1 finale—as he grips Rhaenyra by her throat—Daemon straight up scoffs at all things spectral.
When Rhaenyra tries to tell him about the Song of Ice and Fire that Viserys had impressed upon her before his death, Daemon is exasperated—and, in his grief, jealous that Viserys never mentioned it to him. “My brother was a slave to his omens and portents,” Daemon snaps. “Anything to make his feckless reign appear to have purpose.”
Viserys may have focused on the fantastical, but Daemon? He prefers things that are real, man. “Dreams didn’t make us kings,” he tells his wife. “Dragons did.” He has a point, but those king-making dragons taketh just as much as they giveth. In Season 1’s closing scene, Daemon has to deliver the news to Rhaenyra that her sweet son Lucerys and his dragon, Arrax, have both been mortally torn asunder in midair by another flying beast.
That beast would be Vhagar—the oh lawd he comin’–sized dragon that Aemond Targaryen claimed as a child, losing an eye in the process. “Do not mourn me, mother,” a wounded Aemond says to the understandably horrified Queen Alicent after he’s been stitched up in Episode 7. “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.” This is some real Targaryen math through and through, which explains why it sounds so much like Daemon logic as well.
That brings us to maybe the biggest open question about Daemon heading into this new season: How will he handle the rise of Aemond, a possibly more sinister, potentially less humane version of himself? Even their names suggest an ouroboric relationship between these silver-coiffed, secondborn royal sons: You can’t spell one without the other, and maybe you can’t delete one without erasing the other, too. Aemond may not have intended to kill Lucerys, but if he’s anything like Daemon—and he is—there’s a good chance that, far from apologizing or repenting, he’ll dig in and double down and do what is needed to make those dragons dance.
“Prince Daemon had been the wonder and the terror of his age,” reads one of George R.R. Martin’s lines about the Rogue Prince. As House of the Dragon unfolds, not only can you see the scope of what this means, but you can also watch the other characters as they start to see and process what Daemon is capable of, too. When Rhaenyra looks at her husband in the finale, not so much with anger or fear but with pity, it opens up a new world of possibilities for their relationship going forward.
For a split second, this scanned to me as a sweet moment, a mentor passing the torch to the next generation. And then I snapped to and remembered that this is Westeros, and these people are bad news and great liars and unrepentant sinners, and Aemond’s look of wonder is because he is striving to be a young terror himself.
Whether he is validating his brother’s reign or vivisecting his rival, Daemon’s motivations throughout the first season of House of the Dragon feel straightforward: He wants to consolidate and preserve his family’s dragon bloodline, and thus the source of his family’s power, whatever the optics or costs. But as Season 2 approaches and those costs keep piling up, will his motivations or his methods start changing?
For now, the answer to that remains murky, which feels right. Daemon is, after all, one of the grayest guys that this realm has ever seen. That much has always been clear.
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Katie Baker
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Don’t let the name fool you! Even if you aren’t a mom saving up for a supped-out minivan, you’ll find something to love in Jessi Cruickshank’s comedy special Minivan Money. Out on Veeps now, Jessi takes the humorous approach to life, sharing everyday struggles we can’t help but laugh about… otherwise we might cry!
Your show appears to be geared toward mothers, but your humor really transcends several demographics, which is amazing. With that in mind, if you had to promote your show in five words or less, how would you entice our audience to watch?
Pop Culture. Nostalgia. Millennial Mayhem.
Filled to the brim with crowd work, antics, and overall hilarity, Minivan Money has it all. If you want jokes, she’s got them! If you want physical comedy, you’re in for a treat. If you want to see women celebrate freedom and being authentic hot messes, then Minivan Money might be the answer for your next girls’ night!
Minivan Money is also so fun because you’re authentically yourself. Why do you think that’s important when it comes to comedy?
Thank You! For me, if I come out dancing to a Boy Band banger while pumping milk into a breast pump (which I DO), that instantly sets the tone for fun. If I’m having a great time on stage, the audience will have a great time with me. If I am truly honest about who I am and what I’m going through, the audience can laugh about their own lives and what they are going through. That is the beauty and catharsis of comedy! But the simpler answer is just that this is who I am, and I genuinely don’t know how to be anyone else!
You have an entertaining blend of some physical comedy at the beginning, sharing stories, and also crowdwork. Do you enjoy involving your audience in your set? Does that ever get difficult having those improvised conversations with audience members since sometimes people can be unpredictable?
I’m so glad you asked, it is THE BEST PART OF MY SHOW! A lot of people have been asking if any of the audience members were planted in my special, the answer is NO! NEVER- there is a section where I ask women to throw their sad, used bras at me on stage, and the production team worried we might not get any bras thrown on stage- we got 48!
The crowd work and the improv are not just what keeps the material fresh for ME; I think it’s what makes the show fun for my audience- there is a real sense of seeing a unique show every night and never knowing what could happen next. I LOVE THAT.
I started out in High School, I was the only girl on an all-male Improv Comedy team alongside Seth Rogen and Nathan Fielder. We used to play shows in our high school gym, we did a few Bar Mitzvah’s where we got paid about $20 each, which was a GREAT gig for us. I don’t think I ever expected to go into comedy professionally- but then I got a job as a host on MTV when it first launched in Canada and it became very clear I was not hired to be “the hot girl” or “the cool girl” I was only ever “the funny girl” and frankly that’s the only girl I know how to be!
Jessi Cruickshank on starting comedy
What has this experience been like, from conceiving your show to seeing the final product? How does it feel to see it all come together?
It’s been a long time coming- hilariously, I announced my first-ever comedy tour in February of 2020… remember what happened in MARCH? Not a comedy tour, I’ll tell you that much. When I finally got to go on the road, my audience was so excited to just GET OUT OF THE HOUSE; it became more than just a stand-up show, I was giving people a communal experience, the chance to laugh together for the first time in years. Now, it feels so good to have captured that feeling on screen in this special and share it with the world!
If you ask us, we’d say Minivan Money with Jessi Cruickshank is a BUZZIN’ good time! But don’t just take our word for it. You can stream Minivan Money right now on Veeps.
What do you say, bees? Are you ready to get that Minivan Money with Jessi Cruickshank? Let us know in the comments, or find us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter @thehoneypop.
TO LEARN MORE ABOUT JESSI CRUICKSHANK:
FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE | YOUTUBE
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Jordan Mallory
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Sean and Amanda discuss the unconfirmed casting news that Paul Mescal, Barry Keoghan, Harris Dickinson, and Charlie Rowe will be the leads of Sam Mendes’s quartet of biopics about the members of the Beatles (1:00). Then, they have an in-depth (and spoiler-filled) discussion about Richard Linklater’s Hit Man, starring Big Pic favorite Glen Powell (15:00). Finally, Powell and Linklater join the show to discuss the genesis of the script, striking a unique tone, their creative partnership, and more (1:05:00).
To watch episodes of The Big Picture, head to https://www.youtube.com/@RingerMovies.
Hosts: Sean Fennessey and Amanda Dobbins
Guests: Glen Powell and Richard Linklater
Senior Producer: Bobby Wagner
Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts / Stitcher / RSS
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Sean Fennessey
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The latest ‘Star Wars’ show has arrived, and the Midnight Boys are here to share all their thoughts on it!
Star Wars is back, and the Midnight Boys are here to give you all their thoughts and musings on the latest Disney+ show, The Acolyte (07:14). They wonder what the galaxy looks like generations before the Skywalkers and uncover a mystery that could lead to the downfall of the Jedi.
Hosts: Charles Holmes, Van Lathan, Jomi Adeniran, and Steve Ahlman
Senior Producer: Steve Ahlman
Additional Production: Arjuna Ramgopal, Jonathan Kermah, and Aleya Zenieris
Social: Jomi Adeniran
Subscribe: Spotify / Apple Podcasts
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Charles Holmes
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We continue our season-long dissection of MF DOOM with a two part survey of 2004’s MM..FOOD. We discuss the album’s central concept and themes before a line-by-line analysis of its first track, “Beef Rap.”
Support Dissect by leaving a review or sharing this episode on social media. It really helps. Follow @dissectpodcast on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter.
Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna
Co-Writer: Camden Ostrander
Additional Production: Justin Sayles
Audio Editing: Kevin Pooler
Theme Music: Birocratic
Subscribe: Spotify
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Cole Cuchna
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After nearly two years, we’re finally returning to Westeros for Season 2 of House of the Dragon. And if, in that long layoff, you’ve forgotten exactly where things stand in the brewing civil war between Team Green and Team Black, we’re here to help. Welcome to our House of the Dragon cheat sheet.
This resource, culled largely from George R.R. Martin’s 2018 Targaryen history, Fire & Blood, will get you up to speed on who is who, what is what, and where is where around 132 AC—when Season 1 of HotD concluded (for reference, Game of Thrones starts in 298 AC). Heads up: This will contain major spoilers for Season 1 (if you’re looking for a cheat sheet entering that season, we have one for you), but it won’t spoil anything from the book.
As a refresher: Season 1 ends when Aemond One-Eye Targaryen and his dragon, Vhagar, killed (somewhat accidentally) Lucerys Velaryon and his dragon, Arrax. That event happened roughly alongside the dueling coronations of Aegon Targaryen and Rhaenyra Targaryen—and put Westeros on a path to war. Here are the people, places, things, and dragons you need to know as we enter Season 2:
Queen Rhaenyra’s faction is called the Blacks because Rhaenyra appeared in a black gown at the tourney feast to celebrate Viserys and Alicent’s wedding (though in the show, it’s because she just tends to wear black). Currently, most members of the Blacks reside on Dragonstone—the traditional seat for a Targaryen heir.
Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen: The late King Viserys I’s firstborn child, known in her youth as the Realm’s Delight. Viserys named Rhaenyra his heir when she was a teenager, in part because he wanted to disinherit his brother, Daemon. Despite eventually fathering male heirs with his second wife, Queen Alicent Hightower, Viserys never disinherited Rhaenyra—but her ascent to the throne was always going to be difficult. Rhaenyra married Laenor Velaryon as a teenager and produced three sons by him (at least officially, more on that in a minute), then married her uncle Daemon after Laenor’s death (which was fake, more on that too) and birthed two more sons. Rhaenyra rides Syrax, a formidable dragon of fighting size.
Daemon Targaryen: Rhaenyra’s uncle-husband. Daemon can be a bit of a hothead but is a very capable warrior, having fought in the War for the Stepstones early in Season 1. He was previously married to Laena Velaryon and has two daughters—Rhaena and Baela—through her. He rides the dragon Caraxes.
Jacaerys Velaryon: Rhaenyra’s oldest son through Laenor Velaryon, though his biological father is the late Harwin Strong. Called Jace. He is now a teenager and is Rhaenyra’s heir. At the conclusion of Season 1, he was sent on his dragon, Vermax, to treat with Lady Jeyne Arryn in an attempt to bring the Vale to Rhaenyra’s side. He was to continue north to Winterfell to curry favor with the Starks.
Joffrey Velaryon: The youngest of the Laenor/Strong boys. Joffrey is just old enough (11) to ride his dragon, Tyraxes, in the books—but not old enough for his mother to allow him to leave Dragonstone. The series may have aged him down somewhat—it’s implied that he’s only 6 years old at the end of Season 1.
Aegon the Younger Targaryen: The eldest child of Rhaenyra and Daemon. Called “the Younger” to differentiate him from his cousin and half-uncle Aegon II Targaryen. He’s currently a toddler.
Viserys Targaryen: The second child of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s union. Named after his grandfather, King Viserys I. He’s also a toddler.
Rhaenys Targaryen: The cousin of King Viserys I, known as the Queen Who Never Was. Her claim to the throne was rejected at the Great Council of 101 AC, when the lords of Westeros chose Viserys over her, reinforcing a precedent that the succession must pass through a male line. She is married to Corlys Velaryon, with whom she had two children, Laenor and Laena (both deceased or thought to be deceased). She rides Meleys, the fastest dragon in the realm.
Corlys Velaryon: Called the Sea Snake for his many adventures on the water. He is the head of House Velaryon, the Master of Driftmark, and the husband of Rhaenys Targaryen. He is one of the richest, most powerful, and most ambitious figures in Westeros, and he dreams of one day seeing one of his descendants ascend the Iron Throne. His naval power allows the Blacks to consider a blockade of King’s Landing.
Baela Targaryen: The eldest daughter of Daemon and Laena Velaryon. A teenager, Baela rides the dragon Moondancer.
Rhaena Targaryen: The younger daughter of Daemon and Laena Velaryon. The egg placed in Rhaena’s cradle when she was a baby never hatched; she thought she might inherit Vhagar after her mother, Laena, died, but Aemond claimed the ancient dragon before she had a chance to. As a result, Rhaena is currently not a dragonrider.
Bartimos Celtigar: Lord of House Celtigar, a smaller house sworn to House Velaryon (and one of only three houses with Valyrian descent, alongside the Velaryons and Targaryens). He attends the Black Council in Season 1 and shifts the conversation from talk of men and ships to talk of dragons.
Grand Maester Gerardys: Rhaenyra’s household maester and thus the maester at Dragonstone when she is crowned.
Erryk Cargyll: Twin of Arryk Cargyll. Previously in Viserys’s Kingsguard, he disagrees with his brother over whether Aegon is fit to rule and ultimately decides to defect to Rhaenyra’s side. He helps Rhaenys Targaryen flee King’s Landing during Aegon’s coronation. He also steals Viserys’s crown and delivers it to Rhaenyra. He is now part of Rhaenyra’s Queensguard.
Steffon Darklyn: Member of Rhaenyra’s Queensguard. Previously in Viserys’s Kingsguard. (In the book, it is Steffon, not Erryk, who steals Viserys’s crown for Rhaenyra.) He is the lord commander of Rhaenyra’s Queensguard in Fire & Blood, but it is unclear whether he has that title in the show.
Gunthor Darklyn: Head of House Darklyn. His exact relationship to Steffon is unclear. In the books, he sits on the Black Council.
Lorent Marbrand: Member of Rhaenyra’s Queensguard. Previously in Viserys’s Kingsguard.
Elinda Massey: Handmaiden to Rhaenyra.
Alfred Broome: The most senior knight on Dragonstone, he joined the island’s garrison during the reign of King Jaehaerys. Fire & Blood describes him as having a “sullen disposition and sour manner.”
When Oldtown calls its banners to war, the Hightower shines a green beacon. Hence the name for Queen Alicent’s faction: the Greens. They currently hold King’s Landing.
King Aegon II Targaryen: The firstborn child of Alicent and Viserys I Targaryen. Married to his sister, Helaena, with whom he has three children: Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor. It’s also implied that he’s fathered a number of bastards in King’s Landing who can be spotted by their silver hair. In Episode 8, he rapes one of his family’s handmaidens. Aegon is a drunk and a layabout—he initially doesn’t want to be crowned king and would prefer a life away from politics. But per the trailers for Season 2, he seems to enjoy the power the Iron Throne provides. Rider of Sunfyre, a formidable golden-scaled dragon.
Alicent Hightower: Now that Viserys has died, Alicent is the dowager queen in King’s Landing. She is the mother of Aegon II, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron. In her youth, she was a great friend to Rhaenyra—but now they are bitter enemies competing for the throne. She is the daughter of Otto Hightower. Alicent misinterpreted a conversation she had with Viserys I on his deathbed, leading her to believe that the king wanted to name Aegon heir instead of Rhaenyra. She puts her son on the throne in an urgent, frantic plot mere hours after Viserys passes. Alicent is deeply religious and has the Red Keep redecorated, removing the heraldry of the Targaryens in favor of symbols of the Faith of the Seven. Unlike many others on her side, she’s uncomfortable with violence and treachery—though she still engages in both. She once says, “I have to believe that in the end, honor and decency will prevail.”
Otto Hightower: Father of Alicent and Hand of the King to Jaehaerys, Viserys, and now Aegon II, his grandson. Daemon once says that Otto is “a second son who stands to inherit nothing he doesn’t seize for himself.” Daemon also calls him “a cunt.” Otto is deeply ambitious and, by the time of Viserys’s death, has been scheming to put Aegon II on the throne for years.
Helaena Targaryen: Sister-wife to Aegon II. Helaena is a dreamer, blessed (or cursed) with prophetic visions, such as when she comments that Aemond will have to “close an eye” to gain a dragon shortly before he loses his eye after mounting Vhagar. Helaena is considered a bit odd and eccentric but seems to have a kinder heart than most of her siblings and connects with her nephews, while her brothers see them only as rivals. Helaena rides Dreamfyre, a 100-year-old dragon, but she rarely takes to the skies and is no warrior. She is the mother of Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor.
Aemond Targaryen: Known as Aemond One-Eye after Lucerys Velaryon cut out one of his eyes when Aemond claimed Vhagar. As he ages, Aemond becomes strong and intimidating, once beating Criston Cole in a sparring session in the training yard. He loves to torment his nephews. He somewhat accidentally kills Lucerys and Lucerys’s dragon, Arrax, when the two encounter each other at Storm’s End at the end of Season 1. This makes Aemond a kinslayer—and pushes Westeros toward war.
Daeron Targaryen: The youngest child of Viserys and Alicent. Aged 15, he has not been seen on-screen because he is in Oldtown, serving as cupbearer to Ormund Hightower, his mother’s cousin. Daeron rides Tessarion, who is said to be of fighting size.
Jaehaerys Targaryen: Eldest son of Aegon II and Helaena, and Aegon’s heir. In the books, it is said that Jaehaerys was born with “six fingers on his left hand, and six toes upon each foot.” He’s bonded to the dragon Shrykos, but both Jaehaerys and his dragon are far too young and small to be of any use in a war. Jaehaerys is just a toddler at the opening of Season 2.
Jaehaera Targaryen: Daughter of Aegon II and Helaena, and twin to Jaehaerys. Like her brother, Jaehaera is bonded to a dragon—Morghul—but is many years away from flying.
Maelor Targaryen: Infant son of Aegon II and Helaena.
Criston Cole: Lord Commander of Aegon II’s Kingsguard. Ser Criston is the sworn shield—and secret lover—of Rhaenyra in the princess’s youth, but the two have a falling-out when she rejects his offer to run away to Essos together. He later confesses his transgression to Queen Alicent and becomes her close ally from that point on. He kills Joffrey Lonmouth—Laenor Velaryon’s secret lover—at Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding. He also kills—somewhat accidentally—Lord Lyman Beesbury at the small council meeting after Viserys’s death. And when Lord Commander Harrold Westerling resigns his post in the aftermath, Criston ascends to the position. He then helps Aemond track down his brother Aegon, fighting Arryk Cargyll to ensure Aegon is delivered to Alicent, not Otto. At Aegon’s coronation, it is Criston who places the crown on his head.
Tyland Lannister: Younger twin of Jason Lannister. Served Viserys as master of ships, and later as master of coin. Has long schemed with Otto Hightower to place Aegon on the throne once Viserys dies. Currently Aegon II’s master of coin.
Jason Lannister: Older twin of Tyland Lannister and the head of House Lannister. Courts Rhaenyra in the princess’s youth but comes off as arrogant and vain, and she rejects him. As in Game of Thrones, the House of the Dragon Lannisters are one of the wealthiest and most powerful houses in the realm.
Larys Strong: Head of House Strong following the deaths of his father, Lyonel, and older brother, Harwin, which he arranged. Called the Clubfoot because one of his feet was malformed at birth. Served Viserys as master of whisperers and Lord Confessor, roles he retains under Aegon II. A longtime ally of Alicent, he brings the queen information in exchange for … you remember.
Jasper Wylde: Called Ironrod for his unbending attitude. Master of laws toward the end of Viserys’s reign, a post he retains under Aegon II.
Grand Maester Orwyle: Grand maester under Viserys, and now Aegon II. Prefers less traditional methods of healing (in treating King Viserys’s illness, Orwyle wants to try an herbal medicine he’s prepared, but then–Grand Maester Mellos prefers leeches).
Borros Baratheon: Lord of House Baratheon. He makes a marriage pact with the Greens, matching one of his daughters with Aemond Targaryen. Rhaenyra and the Blacks make no such offer—her sons are already betrothed—and so lose Borros’s support, despite Borros’s father’s oath to support Rhaenyra decades earlier. Borros is boisterous and rough around the edges. He’s illiterate.
Rickard Thorne: Knight in Aegon II’s Kingsguard. Also served under Viserys.
Oscar Tully: Great-grandson of Grover Tully, the current Lord of Riverrun. Son of Elmo Tully and younger brother of Kermit Tully. Yep, these are their actual names. This character has been cast, so expect to see the young knight on-screen in Season 2.
Arryk Cargyll: Twin of Erryk Cargyll. Previously in Viserys’s Kingsguard, and now in Aegon II’s. He disagreed with his brother on whether Aegon II would be fit to rule and ultimately stays loyal to the Greens.
Talya: Handmaiden for Alicent and spy for Mysaria, the sex worker turned spymaster who was once Daemon’s paramour and is now known as “the White Worm.”
Humfrey Lefford: Head of House Lefford, which is sworn to the Lannisters. Commander in the Lannister army.
Gwayne Hightower: Younger brother to Alicent. Seen at the tourney in Episode 1—but never without his helmet. The series cast an actor to play him in Season 2, ensuring we’ll see more of this character (including his face).
Eustace: Priest in King’s Landing.
Got all that? To help keep it straight, here’s the Targaryen family tree as it stands entering Season 2.
As HBO’s marketing has reminded us this season, when civil war comes to Westeros, everyone must choose a side. But the loyalties of these characters are not yet completely clear.
Mysaria: Called the White Worm. Former sex worker who now runs a spy ring in King’s Landing. Former partner of Daemon. She informs Otto of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s Flea Bottom escapade early in Season 1. She kidnaps Aegon when Viserys is near death and uses the information on his location to negotiate with Otto over the closing of the child fighting pits (she also gets a healthy bag of gold out of it). Mysaria is protective of smallfolk—but her exact motivations and goals are not entirely clear.
Jeyne Arryn: Head of House Arryn. Rhaenyra’s mother was Aemma Arryn (exact relation to Jeyne is unknown), and thus Rhaenyra believes Jeyne will side with the Blacks in the coming war. Jacaerys Velaryon is on his way to the Eyrie to treat with Lady Jeyne.
Cregan Stark: Head of House Stark. His father, Rickon Stark, swore an oath of fealty to Rhaenyra when Viserys named her his heir. As a member of the Black Council remarks in the finale of Season 1, “There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath.” Jacaerys is to continue to Winterfell to meet Lord Cregan after he finishes in the Vale.
Harrold Westerling: Former Lord Commander of Viserys’s Kingsguard. Last seen resigning his post when the Greens put their plan to crown Aegon II into motion. In the books, Harrold is long dead by the time the civil war breaks out, so it is unclear what the show has planned for him.
Simon Strong: Castellan of Harrenhal and great-uncle to Larys.
Orwyle, Eustace, and Mushroom: The three authors whose accounts constitute the only primary sources from Viserys’s reign and the ensuing civil war, which is known as the Dance of the Dragons. Martin’s Fire & Blood is written in the voice of Archmaester Gyldayn, who lived during the time of King Robert Baratheon and was writing a history for the king. As such, there is no definitive account of the events of House of the Dragon—everything we know comes from sources who had their own biases and blind spots. In some cases, these sources directly contradict one another.
It wouldn’t be Westeros without some bloodshed. Here are the important characters who died in Season 1 but are worth remembering as we stare down Season 2.
Jaehaerys I Targaryen: The Old King who preceded Viserys. Because he had no living sons at the time of his death, a Great Council was called to resolve his succession. The result—that Viserys would be named Jaehaerys’s heir—reinforced a precedent that succession in Westeros must go through a male line.
Aemma Arryn: Rhaenyra’s mother. Died in childbirth. Because her mother was an Arryn, Rhaenyra expects the Vale—now ruled by Jeyne Arryn—to side with the Blacks.
Craghas Drahar: The Crabfeeder. The leader of the Triarchy forces that Daemon and Corlys defeated in the war for the Stepstones.
Rhea Royce: Daemon’s first wife. Bludgeoned to death by Daemon, though the death was made to look like a horse-riding accident.
Joffrey Lonmouth: Lover of Laenor Velaryon. Killed by Ser Criston Cole at Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding.
Laena Velaryon: Daughter of Rhaenys and Corlys, wife to Daemon. Mother of Baela and Rhaena. Lived in Pentos with Daemon for years while the latter was in exile. Loved to ride her dragon, Vhagar, alongside Daemon’s Caraxes. Had Vhagar light her ablaze when childbirth complications made it clear she wouldn’t survive her third pregnancy.
Harwin Strong: Rhaenyra’s lover and the biological father of her first three sons. Killed on the orders of Larys Strong, Harwin’s brother.
Lyonel Strong: Father of Harwin and Larys and formerly the master of laws and Hand of the King to Viserys. Killed along with Harwin on Larys’s orders. With both Harwin and Lyonel dead, Larys becomes the Lord of House Strong.
Laenor Velaryon: Son of Rhaenys and Corlys, husband to Rhaenyra. Officially the father of Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey—though their biological father is Harwin Strong. Laenor is technically alive—he fakes his death late in Season 1 with the blessing of Rhaenyra to gain freedom from his life at her side—but it is highly unlikely we’ll ever see him again in the series. He has escaped to Essos and left his life in Westeros behind. Formerly the rider of Seasmoke.
Vaemond Velaryon: Younger brother of Corlys Velaryon. Killed by Daemon when he questions the parentage of Rhaenyra’s sons and challenges their standing to inherit Driftmark.
King Viserys I Targaryen: Husband of Alicent. Father of Rhaenyra, Aegon II, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron. Died of a prolonged illness.
Lyman Beesbury: Master of coin for Viserys. Killed by Criston Cole when he questions the Green Council’s plan to coronate Aegon. His death marks the first casualty in the Dance of the Dragons.
Lucerys Velaryon: Rhaenyra’s second-oldest son through Laenor Velaryon, though his biological father is the late Harwin Strong. Called Luke. In their youth, Lucerys and Aemond Targaryen get into a fight that ends when Lucerys knifes out Aemond’s eye. At the end of Season 1, Lucerys rides his dragon, Arrax, to Storm’s End to ask for Borros Baratheon’s support, but Aemond beats him there. Aemond chases Lucerys from Storm’s End on his dragon, Vhagar, and ends up killing Lucerys and Arrax. The death of Lucerys makes it impossible for the two sides to avoid war. Lucerys was also the heir to Driftmark, and his death leaves the succession of House Velaryon once again in question.
Men and ships are important, but true power in this war lies in dragons. There are 19 named, known dragons at this point in Westerosi history. Here’s what to know about each:
Syrax: The yellow she-dragon ridden by Rhaenyra. Of fighting size, but with no experience.
Caraxes: Called the Blood Wyrm. The huge, fierce red dragon ridden in battle by Daemon.
Meleys: Called the Red Queen. The scarlet-and-pink she-dragon ridden by Rhaenys. Probably still the swiftest dragon in Westeros, though she has begun to slow in her old age.
Vermax: The young dragon ridden by Jacaerys. As of the end of Season 1, Vermax and Jace are en route to the Eyrie, with plans to continue north to Winterfell. Vermax is a teenager—capable of combat but nowhere as formidable as some of Westeros’s older, more experienced dragons.
Tyraxes: The young dragon of Joffrey. In the books, Tyraxes is old enough for Joffrey to ride—but the show appears to have aged the character down a touch, so the dragon may still be grounded.
Moondancer: The young dragon of Baela Targaryen. In the books, Moondancer is just too young for Baela to ride at the beginning of the war.
Stormcloud: The hatchling that has bonded with Aegon the Younger. Far too small to be ridden.
Vhagar: The massive, ferocious, bronze-and-green-blue she-dragon that was ridden by Queen Visenya during Aegon’s Conquest. Vhagar is the oldest, largest, and fiercest dragon in Westeros. She is the mount of Aemond Targaryen. Last seen killing Arrax and Lucerys.
Sunfyre: The glittering, gold-scaled dragon ridden by Aegon II. Said to be the most beautiful creature ever seen in Westeros. Of fighting size, but without experience.
Dreamfyre: The century-old, pale-blue-and-silver she-dragon ridden by Helaena Targaryen. Dreamfyre has never been much of a fighter, and Helaena doesn’t have much interest in riding her—it is said that she goes up into the sky only rarely.
Tessarion: The cobalt-and-copper dragon ridden by Daeron Targaryen. We haven’t seen Daeron or Tessarion in the show—both are presumably in Oldtown, where Daeron serves as cupbearer to Ormund Hightower.
Shrykos: The hatchling she-dragon bonded with Jaehaerys Targaryen.
Morghul: The hatchling dragon bonded with Jaehaera Targaryen.
Vermithor: Called the Bronze Fury. The bronze dragon ridden by King Jaehaerys I until his death. Vermithor is roughly 100 years old—and presumably one of the largest dragons in the realm. He resides somewhere on the Dragonmont, a volcano that lies on the island of Dragonstone. This is the dragon we see Daemon singing to toward the end of Season 1.
Silverwing: The roughly 100-year-old she-dragon formerly ridden by Alysanne Targaryen, King Jaehaerys’s sister-wife. Silverwing is presumably large, but inexperienced. She resides somewhere on the Dragonmont.
Seasmoke: The slender and nimble silver dragon that was formerly the mount of Laenor Velaryon. Resides on Driftmark.
The Cannibal: A wild dragon that lives on Dragonstone and is known to feast on other dragons and their eggs. Coal black, large, and angry as hell, the Cannibal is rumored to be one of the oldest dragons in Westeros.
Sheepstealer: A wild dragon that lives on Dragonstone and frequently hunts for sheep.
Grey Ghost: A wild dragon that lives on Dragonstone and is rarely spotted. Known to feed on fish.
While Season 1 of House of the Dragon had a much smaller scope than Game of Thrones, Season 2 is expected to expand the series’ geography. These are the most important places to know.
King’s Landing: The capital of the Seven Kingdoms, located on the eastern coast of the continent. It is a short distance from the islands of Driftmark and Dragonstone and was the location where Aegon the Conqueror first landed on the Westerosi mainland as he began his invasion. King’s Landing is the most populous city in the Seven Kingdoms. It is under the control of the Greens.
The Red Keep: The castle in King’s Landing that serves as the home of the current ruler of Westeros and the location of the Iron Throne. The Red Keep contains numerous secret passages and underground connections, and no one knows where they all lead. It’s often said that in the Red Keep, “the very walls have ears.”
Maegor’s Holdfast: The fort at the center of the Red Keep, which lies behind massive walls and a dry moat.
The Dragonpit: The massive stone home built for the royal dragons of House Targaryen. The Dragonpit lies on a hill on the side of King’s Landing opposite the Red Keep. In Game of Thrones, the Dragonpit is in ruins—but in House of the Dragon, it is alive with purpose as not only the holding pen for the many dragons in the city, but also a key outpost for the city’s defense. One dragonrider resides at the pit at all times in the event that a dragon needs to be roused quickly for combat. It is the site of Aegon II’s coronation in Episode 9 of House of the Dragon.
Flea Bottom: The foul, seedy underbelly of King’s Landing. A hub of lawlessness and filth—but a good place for residents looking for a cheap winesink or a discreet whorehouse.
Blackwater Bay: The body of water that sits around King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark.
Dragonstone: The gloomy island home of House Targaryen before Aegon the Conqueror launched his invasion of Westeros and established a new seat (both figuratively and literally) at King’s Landing. It is also where the heir to the current ruler typically resides. This is where Daenerys planned her own invasion of Westeros in Season 7 of Game of Thrones. It is currently controlled by the Blacks.
Driftmark: A fertile island between Dragonstone and King’s Landing. It is the seat of House Velaryon.
High Tide: The castle on Driftmark that was constructed by Corlys Velaryon to serve as the seat of his house. Corlys had grown tired of the damp and musty halls of Castle Driftmark and constructed High Tide out of magnificent pale stone as a symbol of the power of House Velaryon.
Harrenhal: The largest castle in Westeros, which Aegon the Conqueror melted into a somber pile of stone and metal during his invasion. However, Harrenhal remains an important castle, with fertile land surrounding it and a central location just northwest of King’s Landing. House Strong currently holds Harrenhal. At the end of Season 1, when the Blacks are planning for war, Daemon notes that Harrenhal would be the perfect “place to gather, a toehold, large enough to house a sizable host.” Widely believed to be cursed because of the many tragedies that have occurred there.
Oldtown: A large, ancient city that lies on the western shore of Westeros. It is home to the Citadel, the headquarters of the Maesters, as well as the Starry Sept, the seat of the Faith of the Seven. That makes it the center of both knowledge and religion in Westeros. It is also a hub of trade and arguably the wealthiest city in the Seven Kingdoms. Oldtown is ruled by House Hightower.
The Hightower: A massive castle and lighthouse that sits just outside Oldtown and serves as the seat of House Hightower. When House Hightower calls its banners to war, the Hightower shines a green beacon—which is where the Greens get their name.
Dorne: The southernmost region of Westeros, populated by the Rhoynar, who are distinct from the Andals and First Men that make up most of the citizens of Westeros. Dorne was the only kingdom of Westeros that Aegon the Conqueror failed to bring into his realm, and it remains an independent kingdom all the way through the reign of Viserys. Criston Cole is from an area called the Dornish Marches.
The Free Cities: A group of nine city-states in Essos, the continent east of Westeros. They are important trade partners for Westeros, though they are also frequently in conflict with the crown or with one another. A handful of the free cities not-so-secretly funded Craghas Crabfeeder’s pirates in the war for the Stepstones in Season 1.
Valyria: A ruined city in Essos that was once the home to the Targaryens and many other dragon-riding families known as dragonlords. Valyria controlled a large empire known as the Valyrian Freehold until the Doom, a mysterious cataclysmic event that wiped out the city and its inhabitants roughly a century before Aegon’s Conquest. The Targaryens escaped the Doom thanks to prophetic dreams that foretold the destruction, and thus they became the only dragon-riding family in the known world.
The Narrow Sea: The sea to the east of Westeros that separates the continent from Essos.
The Stepstones: A series of islands in the Narrow Sea south of King’s Landing that are well positioned to control important shipping lanes between Westeros and Essos. Daemon Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon travel there in Season 1 to wrest control of the islands away from the Triarchy.
The Eyrie: An ancient mountain castle that is the seat of House Arryn and the center of power in the Vale.
Storm’s End: A large, stout castle that is the seat of House Baratheon and the center of power in the Stormlands.
Winterfell: An ancient, huge castle that is the seat of House Stark and the center of power in the North.
Casterly Rock: A towering castle that is the seat of House Lannister and the center of power in the Westerlands.
Riverrun: A small but well-defended castle that is the seat of House Tully and the center of power in the Riverlands.
Objects can be important symbols of power, prestige, or history in Westeros. Here are some of the most important ones.
Blackfyre: The Valyrian steel sword of Aegon the Conqueror that is typically wielded by Targaryen kings. It is in the hands of Aegon II—a symbol that helps prove his legitimacy to many.
The Crown of Aegon the Conqueror: Aegon I wore a Valyrian steel crown embedded with a red stone. It’s the crown Aegon II uses for his coronation—another physical symbol the Greens use to project Aegon’s legitimacy.
The Crown of Viserys I Targaryen: Rhaenyra dons the same crown her father wore, which was also the crown of Jaehaerys I Targaryen—the Old King. Her crown signals continuity as well as her place as her father’s chosen heir.
Dark Sister: The Valyrian steel sword wielded by Queen Visenya Targaryen during Aegon’s Conquest. King Jaehaerys I gave the sword to Daemon Targaryen, who currently possesses it.
The catspaw dragonbone dagger: The dagger that Game of Thrones fans called the catspaw dagger returns in House of the Dragon, and in Season 1 Viserys revealed that Aegon the Conqueror had the Song of Ice and Fire—Aegon’s prophetic dream about an icy apocalypse coming to Westeros—embedded in the steel. The dagger is currently in the possession of Aegon II, who is unaware of the prophecy. In Game of Thrones, this dagger is used in the attempt on Bran’s life in Season 1. Arya ultimately kills the Night King with it.
The Painted Table: The long table on Dragonstone that is carved to depict the continent of Westeros. It’s where Aegon the Conqueror planned his invasion of the continent and where Rhaenyra holds her first war council at the end of Season 1. It’s also where Daenerys plans her invasion of Westeros in Game of Thrones.
The Iron Throne: The seat of power in Westeros. The throne was forged from the melted blades of Aegon the Conqueror’s enemies, forming a twisted, intimidating seat that does not allow a king to “sit easy.” Some blades are still sharp enough to cut the throne’s occupant—a sign that the king (or queen) may be unprepared to hold power. The throne cut Viserys throughout his reign, possibly contributing to his illness.
Rhaenyra’s Valyrian steel necklace: Back in the first episode of Season 1, Daemon gave Rhaenyra a Valyrian steel necklace that she wears through much of the season. It’s a symbol of their relationship—and of Targaryen power.
Firefly brooch: Larys has his own sigil—a firefly—that decorates his cane. It is also sometimes seen as a brooch worn by those in his service. It’s something to watch for in Season 2.
Here are some phrases that viewers will likely hear during the series.
Valyrian steel: Ancient steel that was forged in the Valyrian freehold, before the fall of Valyria. It is widely believed that Valyrian steel was forged using blood magic and/or fire magic, but the exact technique has been lost. As a result, no new Valyrian steel weapons can be made, though the blacksmiths in Westeros can rework existing Valyrian steel. Valyrian steel weapons are far superior to any others—they hold a razor-sharp edge and are exceptionally strong and lightweight. Noble houses in possession of Valyrian steel weapons pass them down for generations.
Dragon dreams: Prophetic dreams experienced by some Targaryens, including Daenerys and Maester Aemon. It was a prophetic dream of Daenys the Dreamer’s that prompted the Targaryen family to leave Valyria 12 years before the Doom destroyed the city and all the remaining dragonlords. Viserys reveals in Season 1 that Aegon the Conqueror also had such dreams—and that he saw the Long Night and a Prince That Was Promised who would stand against an icy apocalypse that would come to Westeros. Viserys says that this is why Aegon conquered Westeros in the first place. But as with all prophecies in Martin’s writing, there is a question of whether the future is set in stone or whether the characters’ own desire to change their future ultimately leads to self-fulfilling (and often self-destructive) behavior.
The City Watch: The standing army of King’s Landing, which is tasked with maintaining order and defending the Iron Throne. Daemon Targaryen commands the Watch shortly after Viserys is crowned king, and he gives the Watch its signature gold cloaks.
Lord of the Tides: The title traditionally given to the head of House Velaryon.
War for the Stepstones: A war fought between Westeros (led by Daemon Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon) and the alliance of Free Cities known as the Triarchy (led by Craghas Crabfeeder) for control of an important series of islands in the south of the Narrow Sea. Daemon and Corlys win this war early in Season 1.
The Great Council of 101 AC: A council of all the lords of Westeros held after the death of Baelon Targaryen, King Jaehaerys’s son and heir to the Iron Throne. The council was called to pick a successor for Jaehaerys, who did not attend the council but agreed to abide by any decision made by the lords. The main claimants to the throne were Viserys, Jaehaerys’s grandson through Baelon; Rhaenys, Jaehaerys’s granddaughter through Aemon (Baelon’s older brother, who had died years prior); and—in the books only—Laenor Velaryon, Rhaenys’s son. Despite the influence of Corlys Velaryon, Viserys won the vote by a rumored margin of 20-1. And the council’s reasoning was, in part, that it wanted the throne to pass solely through a male line of descendants. Picking Viserys also ensured that the throne stayed in the hands of a Targaryen, rather than a Velaryon.
The Prince or Princess of Dragonstone: The title given to the heir apparent of the Iron Throne. The heir also typically resides on Dragonstone and rules over the island.
Kingsguard or Queensguard: The order of knights sworn to protect the king or queen and the royal family. There are typically seven such knights, who are prohibited from inheriting land, holding titles, taking wives, or starting families. They wear white and are commonly called white cloaks.
Small council: The group of seven trusted advisers who aid the king.
Hand of the King: The king’s second-in-command and the only person authorized to make decisions in the king’s name. However, this is not considered a glamorous position. The smallfolk across Westeros say that “the king eats, and the hand takes the shit.”
Dragonseeds: Bastard children of House Targaryen. Especially common on Dragonstone, where many smallfolk claim that the blood of the dragon runs through their veins. A key question that has not yet been answered in Westeros: Can dragonseeds become dragonriders?
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Rachel, Callie, and Jodi dish on the past week in Bravo world
Rachel Lindsay and Callie Curry open today’s Morally Corrupt with a chat about the sad conclusion of Sonja Morgan’s townhouse auction, Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard being put on pause, and the imminent return of The Real Housewives of Dubai (1:57). They then move on to briefly debate what’s wrong with this current season of The Real Housewives of New Jersey (8:58) and examine where they ultimately fall on the Carl-Lindsay meter after the intense Season 8 finale of Summer House (21:23). Later, Rachel welcomes Jodi Walker on to discuss where the cast goes from here after the depressing conclusion to the Vanderpump Rules Season 11 reunion (40:57), and whether or not they’ve soured on Danny following his shocking heel turn in Episode 11 of The Valley (1:05:05).
Host: Rachel Lindsay
Guests: Callie Curry and Jodi Walker
Producer: Devon Baroldi
Theme: Devon Renaldo
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Matt is joined by Wall Street Journal reporter Isabella Simonetti to discuss an article she wrote that focuses on the older ages of television viewers and how it has affected advertisers (03:35). They go through how the pitches to ad buyers have shifted, the age gap between people who consume traditional linear TV and streaming, whether age demographics are still used, the growing acceptance of older casts on TV, and whether linear TV is beginning to age out. Matt finishes the show with a prediction about the distribution of The Apprentice, which highlights Donald Trump’s rise during his business career (19:50).
For a 20 percent discount on Matt’s Hollywood insider newsletter, What I’m Hearing …, click this link: puck.news/thetown
Email us your thoughts! thetown@spotify.com
Host: Matt Belloni
Guest: Isabella Simonetti
Producer: Jessie Lopez
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This week, Dave, Neil, and Joanna are live from the ATX TV Festival, and they are debating the worst TV series finale! They start by reading bad reviews of good finales (7:08). Then, they go through pretrial awards and dismissals (13:22) before revealing their picks for the worst TV series finale (28:58). Later, they hear a few suggestions from the audience and pick one to be added to the final poll (44:00).
Now it’s up to you to decide! What is the worst TV series finale? You can vote for the winner at TheRinger.com, on The Ringer’s X feed, and in the Spotify app, where you’ll find Trial by Content. The winner will be announced on the next episode!
You can send your picks for the next topic and a few sentences to support your pick to TrialByContent@gmail.com. You can also submit suggestions for future Trial by Content topics. Is there a great pop culture debate that you’d like us to settle? Send it on over!
For a list of all the TV shows discussed on this week’s episode and a preview of what is to come on Trial by Content, head on over to Letterboxd.com/TrialByContent and follow us there!
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Hosts: Dave Gonzales, Joanna Robinson, and Neil Miller
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Sheil stopped by Eagles practice today and has some big-picture thoughts that he wants to review (02:23). Will the Eagles’ 2024 first-round pick, Quinyon Mitchell, be ready to start at the beginning of the season? New Ringer writer and Philly local Anthony Dabbundo joins the pod to discuss the Phillies’ progress so far this season. Is there real concern for Bryce Harper’s health (16:32)? Plus, is there excitement for a new season of Mare of Easttown and Shane Gillis’s new show, Tires?
We want to hear from you! 215-315-7982
Hosts: Sheil Kapadia and Anthony Dabbundo
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Music Composed By: Teddy Grossman and Jackson Greenberg
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The very merry month of content is coming, and the Midnight Boys are here to do a draft of all the best things they are covering. From Star Wars to Game of Thrones, everything will be here on the Ringer-Verse (06:46). Later, the boys are joined by X-Men ’97 director and producer Jake Castorena to talk about the secrets and facts behind the latest revelatory season of the show (64:13).
Be sure to check out tickets for the Ringer Residency in Los Angeles this summer!
Hosts: Charles Holmes, Van Lathan, Jomi Adeniran, and Steve Ahlman
Guest: Jake Castorena
Senior Producer: Steve Ahlman
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These fabulous things are here to podcast historic! Mal and Jo rev their engines to give you their reactions to Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (30:07). But before that, they assess their hype at an all-time high with some light prep for The Acolyte, premiering next week (05:22).
Be sure to check out tickets for the Ringer Residency in Los Angeles this summer!
Hosts: Mallory Rubin and Joanna Robinson
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Forty years ago next month, Bruce Springsteen released what would become the album most entwined with his legacy and American culture writ large: Born in the U.S.A. In his new book, out Tuesday, There Was Nothing You Could Do: Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” and the End of the Heartland, veteran rock critic Steven Hyden explores how it became what it did—and what it meant for Bruce, rock music, and the greater zeitgeist. In this exclusive excerpt, Hyden looks at the medium that introduced many people to the album: the music video.
Bruce Springsteen is not a great music video artist. I am certain that he would not be offended by this statement because I don’t think that being a great music video artist was ever a priority for him. During the Born in the U.S.A. era, music videos were a means to an end.
The most memorable image of Bruce from this era derives from the Born in the U.S.A. album cover shot by Andrea Klein and famed Rolling Stone photographer Annie Leibovitz, which was later recreated in the title song’s video. As Dave Marsh relates in his 1987 book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, Leibovitz shot Springsteen over five or six sessions and amassed a series of photos that depicted him in various epic poses. One such picture—Bruce is dressed in a blue shirt, black leather jacket, and black pants and is captured airborne with his legs stuck at a 45-degree angle—was used for the cover of the “Dancing in the Dark” 12-inch single. Another shot of Bruce leaping in front of the American flag with his right arm frozen in a Pete Townshend–style windmill over his guitar was utilized for the cover of the Born in the U.S.A. tour program.
As for the photo that made the album cover, Leibovitz did not consider it her best work, referring to it dismissively as a “grab shot.” It’s true that, when compared with some of the Born in the U.S.A. outtakes, it’s not as artfully composed. But the photo proved to be a remarkably pliable image that conveyed several messages at once. The white work shirt and blue jeans were shorthand for the album’s working-class themes. The red and white stripes obviously represented America. The focus on Bruce’s ass had sexual overtones. The combined alchemy of these elements communicated the paradoxical idea that Bruce was an everyman and the man of his place and time.
That idea carried over to the first music video he made for Born in the U.S.A., “Dancing in the Dark.” I do not need to repeat the particulars of the “Dancing in the Dark” video because anyone who is remotely familiar with Bruce Springsteen can picture scenes from it in their mind. What’s important is that the video undeniably made him more famous in the short run, and it unquestionably made it easier to make fun of him in the long run. I have a friend who hates Bruce Springsteen, and when he wants to annoy me, he will text me GIFs of Bruce dancing in the “Dancing in the Dark” video because he knows I can’t defend it. That video personifies everything that is corny about Bruce Springsteen and almost nothing that is cool about him.
For a long time, I thought the strangest thing about the “Dancing in the Dark” video was that it was directed by one of my favorite filmmakers, Brian De Palma. A friend of Springsteen and Jon Landau, De Palma stepped in at the last minute after a previous attempt at making a video for the song failed. He was not an obvious choice. Very little about “Dancing in the Dark” aligns textually with De Palma’s cinematic output in any obvious way. A high-IQ pervert best known for making lushly choreographed and technically brilliant thrillers loaded with tawdry sex and graphic violence, De Palma’s work on “Dancing in the Dark” seems incongruously wholesome in comparison.
But subtextually, “Dancing in the Dark” shares at least two attributes with Body Double, the highly controversial and very entertaining Rear Window–Vertigo rip-off that De Palma also made in 1984. The first is that both films sexualize their protagonists. (“Dancing in the Dark” opens by lingering on Bruce’s crotch and butt; Body Double stars Melanie Griffith as a porn star.) The second is that De Palma deftly uses flashy and kinetic imagery to distract the audience from a ridiculous plot. (A rock star singing about his inescapable loneliness while smiling ear to ear with future Friends star Courteney Cox in “Dancing in the Dark” versus a dim-witted actor caught in a convoluted double cross that inexplicably frames him for murder in Body Double.)
Bruce had mixed feelings about the video’s slickness and feel-good pop presentation, though he could also recognize that “Dancing in the Dark” achieved exactly what it was supposed to. As he related to Rolling Stone’s Kurt Loder in 1984, “I was on the beach and this kid came up to me—I think his name was Mike, he was like seven or eight—and he says, ‘I saw you on MTV.’ And then he says, ‘I got your moves down.’ So I say, ‘Well, let me check ’em out.’ And he starts doin’, like, ‘Dancing in the Dark.’ And he was pretty good, you know?”
Any hardcore Boss-head who still harbors ill will toward “Dancing in the Dark” should go on YouTube and look up the original video that Bruce was forced to abandon. (The footage that leaked is supposedly a rehearsal take, but it provides an adequate approximation of the concept.)
Directed by Jeff Stein, one of the most important early music-video filmmakers and another personal friend of Bruce, this “Dancing in the Dark” presents Bruce Springsteen moving by himself on an all-black stage and against a black backdrop. The concept (I guess?) is that he is dancing near the dark. But that’s all that we see. In a single take, the camera zooms in and out while Bruce robotically tosses his arms and swings his hips. He is wearing a sleeveless white undershirt, tight black pants with black suspenders, and a black headband. His muscles are exposed. His armpit hair is glistening. He looks like a mime attending a Jazzercise class.
According to the excellent 2011 oral history I Want My MTV, Bruce knew in the moment how silly he looked. “He performed one time, we cut the camera, and he walked off the fucking set and didn’t come back,” says director of photography Daniel Pearl, who later shot iconic videos for U2’s “With or Without You” and Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain.”
“We stood around for half an hour,” Pearl says. “People scoured the building looking for him, and we finally realized, ‘Oh my god, he’s gone.’”
For his next video, Bruce set out to make the gritty version of “Dancing in the Dark.” In the “Born in the U.S.A.” video, we see Bruce onstage with the E Street Band in Los Angeles in 1984. The clean-cut, happy-go-lucky guy from “Dancing in the Dark” has been replaced by a grizzled, screaming arena rocker clad in denim and leather. He is technically lip-syncing, but it’s obvious that the live footage has been aligned with the record in postproduction. We see him really singing—and feeling—this song.
When we don’t see Bruce, we see clips of the America that the song describes—people lined up outside of a check-cashing business, a one-eyed mustachioed guy drinking a beer, ROTC soldiers going through their paces, a military cemetery lined with endless headstones. The dissonance of the “Dancing in the Dark” video is that the tone, mood, and imagery contradict the lyrics and Bruce’s usual persona. (He doesn’t even play guitar in the video.) But “Born in the U.S.A.” is a literal depiction of the song and Bruce’s idea of himself. It’s as “honest” as his music videos get.
The personnel for “Born in the U.S.A.” was just as illustrious as the makers of “Dancing in the Dark.” Director John Sayles was celebrated for making authentic slice-of-life indie films like Return of the Secaucus 7 and Baby It’s You. (The latter film includes several Springsteen songs on the soundtrack.) Per Bruce’s instruction to make a down-and-dirty video, Sayles shot in 16 mm, a choice that belies the world-class cinematographers on the project: Ernest Dickerson (who later shot Do the Right Thing) and Michael Ballhaus (who subsequently filmed Goodfellas).
Bruce opted to use Sayles again for the next two videos, though the director took Springsteen’s video image in yet another direction. In “I’m on Fire” and “Glory Days,” Bruce acts. He’s playing the characters in the songs, though it really feels like one character. In “I’m on Fire,” he is a greasy mechanic who contemplates an affair with a flirtatious (and largely unseen) rich woman. In “Glory Days,” he is a construction worker and family man who fantasizes about pitching against the San Diego Padres. He is also the frontman of a bar band that happens to look exactly like the E Street Band.
“I’m on Fire” features Bruce’s best performance as an actor. He is tasked with looking lustful, then reticent, as he hops in the woman’s Cadillac and takes it on a late-night drive to her home in the Hollywood Hills. The clip’s most theatrical moment is a crane shot in Bruce’s bedroom, which lowers the camera into his face as he rouses himself from bed during a sleepless night. His sheets do not appear to be soaking wet, but the look on his face effectively conveys the feeling of a freight train running through the middle of his head. Of all the Born in the U.S.A. music videos, this seems the most like a short film. When Bruce reaches his moment of truth and decides to slip the keys into the mailbox rather than ring the woman’s doorbell, you can hear the clang of the keys in the box, emphasizing the video’s brief but coherent narrative.
“I’m on Fire” is the leanest of the Born in the U.S.A. videos, which was appropriate for the album’s leanest-sounding hit. The song was cooked up in the studio quickly and extemporaneously, with Bruce stroking out a rockabilly guitar figure against Max Weinberg’s metronomic beat. Upon hearing the chorus, Roy Bittan was inspired to compose a simple but expressive one-note synth intro.
On an album loaded with big-sounding rock songs, “I’m on Fire” is a departure point. It’s also the song that sounds the most like an ’80s pop hit, which might be why it’s the Born in the U.S.A. track that has been covered by the widest spectrum of artists from beyond Bruce’s usual rock wheelhouse. “I’m on Fire” has entered the worlds of indie electronic (Chromatics, Bat for Lashes), alternative pop (Tori Amos), mainstream country (Kenny Chesney), mainstream pop (John Mayer), British folk (Mumford & Sons), and many places between.
The tension of the “I’m on Fire” video is, of course, sexual in nature. Just as the song exudes desire, the video creates an instant patina of longing. And yet the story (like Bruce’s lyrics) is about not following through on what the protagonist wants. Positioning Bruce as a carnal creature who is ultimately chaste was yet another ingenious way to make him mean different things to different audiences. “I’m on Fire” invites the audience to envision Bruce as the kind of man who could indulge in a naughty night of passion with a married woman but chooses not to do so. The “I’m on Fire” video was like a prophylactic for the Boss’s libidinous side. He could be the stud and the virgin simultaneously.
In “Glory Days,” we see Bruce as a wannabe baseball player. He’s not observing this person, as he does in the song. He is portraying a father, with a wife and a young son, who still likes to pretend that he’s a major-league pitcher. Basically the opposite of the real Bruce Springsteen, but also a decent approximation of a “regular” guy in 1985, starting with the love of baseball, which could still be credibly called the national pastime. The five largest television audiences for the World Series ever occurred over consecutive years right before the release of Born in the U.S.A., with 1978 coming in at no. 1, followed by 1980, 1981, 1982, and 1979.
Aside from the flag, baseball was the most straightforward symbol of the American spirit to put in a music video in the mid-’80s. The game was still popular, but it also felt like a romantic remnant of the nation’s past. And that suited “Glory Days,” and not only because of the lyrical allusion to the sport. Like baseball, rock ’n’ roll was still a big deal in the mid-’80s mainstream, but it looked backward. And amid all the displays of technological know-how on the rest of Born in the U.S.A., “Glory Days” is a throwback to the garage-rock formalism of The River. The band sounds loose and jocular, Bittan’s synthesizer has been supplanted by Danny Federici’s organ, and the portending of personal/political doom that permeated the preceding singles is replaced by a feel-good party vibe. Even Bruce’s sidekick, Little Steven, is back in the fold again during the video’s bar-band sequences.
And at the center of it all was what we will call “the Bruce Springsteen Character,” a perfect leading man for MTV. In the videos for “I’m on Fire” and “Glory Days,” Bruce Springsteen is portrayed as soft-spoken, a little shy, hardworking, slightly dim, and fundamentally decent. If you were to make a list of “average working-class person” clichés and turn that list into a person, it would be the Bruce Springsteen Character from these videos.
This person was not the “real” Bruce Springsteen. And I don’t just mean that in the most obvious sense, which is that Bruce was a millionaire rock star and not a blue-collar laborer with a family. The real Bruce Springsteen liked old movies, books about American history, and above all his own company. He was a pensive loner with depressive tendencies. He was complicated.
You don’t get any of that from the simpleton you see in his videos. But the Bruce Springsteen Character overwhelmed reality. And that was helpful to the real Bruce Springsteen’s career—until it suddenly wasn’t.
The impact of MTV imprinting images permanently on an artist’s career would be more apparent after the ’80s, but at least one expert could recognize it in the moment. In 1985, a New York University professor named Neil Postman published a best-selling work of cultural criticism called Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business, a screed against the influence of television on contemporary life. The central argument of Amusing Ourselves to Death is that the transition from a print-based form of public conversation (which Postman argues reached its epoch during the mid-19th century, when Americans happily sat through seven-hour debates between presidential candidates Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas) to a televisual one has made it impossible to properly convey substantive facts and thoughts.
A lasting concept from Amusing Ourselves to Death is the information-action ratio. The concept expresses the connection between what people hear and what it compels them to do. To put it in extremely simple terms: When people learn that fire will burn them, they will know not to touch it. Postman argues that modern media in the mid-’80s created so much unnecessary information that it amounted to disinformation, ultimately paralyzing and confusing consumers and taking them farther away from the truth, while ostensibly making them better informed.
Postman’s work has obvious resonance in the social media era, when the information-action ratio seems even more relevant than it did for television. But what Postman writes can also be applied to how MTV fixed musicians in fleeting images that gave false (or incomplete) impressions of their overall work, even while flooding the airwaves with that artist’s music.
The example people always give of this phenomenon is Cyndi Lauper, a talented singer-songwriter whose 1983 debut album, She’s So Unusual, moved 16 million units worldwide on the strength of a colorful NYC punk persona forwarded in videos like “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” and “Time After Time.” The common wisdom is that Lauper became so connected to her She’s So Unusual image—red hair, pawnshop clothes, a proclivity for hanging out with the wrestler Lou Albano—that it hampered her overall career.
An element of this argument rings true. When most people picture Cyndi Lauper, they conjure images almost exclusively from the videos she put out in 1983 and ’84. But the suggestion that those videos hurt her in the long run isn’t really accurate. One of the biggest songs of her career, “True Colors,” is the title track from her second record, released in 1986. Her third album, A Night to Remember, spawned another top-10 hit, “I Drove All Night,” in 1989. It’s true that none of her albums after that produced a hit song, but almost every pop star starts to fade by the fourth record. There’s no evidence that the ubiquity of She’s So Unusual hurt her overall. On the contrary, her career arc feels pretty typical.
In the case of Bruce Springsteen, however, the distorting effect of the Bruce Springsteen Character from those mid-’80s music videos truly has had far-reaching consequences. The most common criticism of Bruce Springsteen by people who don’t like Bruce Springsteen’s music is that he is not the person that he sings about in his songs. Springsteen’s critics find the fact that he is a rich man who sings about poor people to be inauthentic. Anytime these people want to criticize Bruce Springsteen about anything—the price of his concert tickets, his political stances, the preponderance of the word “factory” in his lyrics—this is what they go back to: He is a phony because he is not really the Bruce Springsteen Character.
Now, this also happens to be the laziest criticism of Bruce Springsteen. It’s like condemning Robert Downey Jr. for being a witty millionaire who is not actually Iron Man in real life. But it’s also understandable why the disconnect exists.
If Bruce had made a video for “Nebraska” in which he portrayed the song’s convicted-murderer narrator, nobody would think he was an actual murderer. (Though this would have been no more fanciful than presenting Bruce as a crane operator like the “Glory Days” video does.) But his public persona would have been darker and more disturbing. He would have come across as a less menacing Lou Reed. And he would have been expected to live up to that image. Any story about him being kind to children or a good tipper for waitresses would be commercially precarious.
This is the opposite scenario in which Bruce found himself during Born in the U.S.A. How do I know this is true? From Bruce Springsteen’s own actions. The way he reacted to his own fame shows that he has been locked in a decades-long fight against the Bruce Springsteen Character. On the cover of the follow-up to Born in the U.S.A., 1987’s Tunnel of Love, Bruce wears a dark suit, a white shirt, and a bolo tie, and leans against a white Cadillac, a deliberate departure from the blue-collar wardrobe of the previous album cycle. In the song “Better Days” from 1992’s Lucky Town, he sings derisively about being “a rich man in a poor man’s shirt.” Many years later, in his career-spanning one-man show, Springsteen on Broadway, he opens with a confession: “I’ve never held an honest job in my entire life!” he says. “I’ve never done any hard labor. I’ve never worked 9-to-5. I’ve never worked five days a week. Until right now.”
It took a full workweek to fight against the Bruce Springsteen Character. And yet that character persists.
Excerpted from THERE WAS NOTHING YOU COULD DO: Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” and the End of the Heartland by Steven Hyden. Copyright © 2024. Available from Hachette Books, an imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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American actress, Raquel Welch, only had three lines in the 1966 adventure/fantasy film One Million Years B.C., but the teeny, tiny, doe-skin bikini she wore on screen catapulted her to sex symbol status.
Enjoy number three on Playboy’s “100 Sexiest Stars of the Twentieth Century” and this week’s Vintage Vixen: Raquel Welch.
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Laura Lee
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Rachel Lindsay and Jodi Walker kick off today’s Morally Corrupt by discussing the torso-themed Summer House reunion looks, Amir’s demand that his girlfriend be part of Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard, and Something About Her’s grand opening (2:04). Then, Rachel and Jodi recap Summer House Season 8, Episode 14 (15:45) and break down The Valley Season 1, Episode 10 (40:56).
Host: Rachel Lindsay
Guest: Jodi Walker
Producer: Devon Baroldi
Theme: Devon Renaldo
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Matt is joined by Puck’s Eriq Gardner to discuss the U.S. government’s monopoly lawsuit against Ticketmaster and Live Nation
Matt is joined by Puck’s Eriq Gardner to discuss the U.S. government’s monopoly lawsuit against Ticketmaster and Live Nation (02:58). They briefly go through the history of the Ticketmaster–Live Nation merger, what led to the eventual lawsuit, why concert prices won’t go down even if the two companies split, whether this lawsuit is just a PR attack against Ticketmaster, what impact this could have on the secondary markets, what a broken-up Ticketmaster–Live Nation would look like, and more. Matt finishes the show with a prediction for this weekend’s holiday box office (27:00).
For a 20 percent discount on Matt’s Hollywood insider newsletter, What I’m Hearing …, click this link: puck.news/thetown.
Email us your thoughts! thetown@spotify.com
Host: Matt Belloni
Guest: Eriq Gardner
Producer: Jessie Lopez
Theme Song: Devon Renaldo
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