By Jacob
One left for this demiseason. Michael Taylor's always been my favorite writer in this canon, so -- even though everybody's fingerprints are on everybody's episodes -- I had high hopes for this one. And, of course, we do not disappoint. While Daniel spends the entire episode in horrifying escalating war of attrition trying to get Zoë to admit she's a robot now, Joseph burns his way through about a million Sim people, to end up at a bar run by the most Teiresias of all guides, who does a literal song and dance that lasts most of the episode before ending in a Sphinxian riddle which Joe answers in the only way he does anything: Whining at top volume and bothering everybody until they're so fucking sick of him they'll do anything to make him go away... Including giving him the clue on his Everquest. And some virtual drugs that will no doubt make him even more horrible in weeks to come.
But then after all that awesome -- and all that wonderful amount of people pointing out how obnoxious Joe can get, and Zoë being a fucking trooper no matter how mentally abusive her dad gets in pursuit of the truth -- things get wicked sad. Tomas Vergis shows up telling crazy Amanda all kind of truths about how the MCP was got, and meanwhile Daniel is down pulling his worst shit of all: Telling the U-87 with his daughter inside to kill Caesar the Dog (a character with personal importance for us all)... And her taking aim, in the ultimate bluff, and blowing the puppy away, only to find out that she's shooting blanks.
So now Daniel's sad thinking he spent the whole episode calling a robot his daughter but still not ready to drop the possibility, Amanda's as usual sad as hell and now knowing her husband is a bad guy, and Zoë? Admitting she'd just as easily have turned the gun on Daniel himself. Which, after all this? Guess that ripped-off arm still smarts. This show is a ten-lane road to hell paved with every good intention that exists. So brilliant.
Guess we're calling week the "season finale," but it should serve. This shit is real, and only getting moreso. Lucky you, being on the ride. Best show on television, ninth week running.