The canon chronicling the American experience is vast and epic, a patchwork quilt of competing ideologies and vivid dreams as unique as the individuals who dream them. Americans value dreamers above all others, for who else but a dreamer could have brought us the Brooklyn Bridge, the Hoover Dam, the Twinkie?
Dreams are the motor that propels us from rock bottom to the tippy top of self-actualization.
Dreams are what make America great. Without dreams
and slave labor and a refusal to pay taxes on slave labor, there would be no America.
Today, I started a journey with two such dreamers, in an effort to learn more about myself and where my own dreams rank within the zeitgeist.
Welcome… to Meth and the City.
Look, it’s pretty simple. I’m the last breathing human in the Lower 48 to have seen neither Breaking Bad nor Sex and the City. So I’m watching them both. Simultaneously, as if they’re the same show.
You’re free to dismiss the idea as crazy, but:
Walter White spends a lot of the pilot of Breaking Bad in just underwear and an apron, and he ends it with a renewed interest in sex.
Carrie Bradshaw announces in the pilot of Sex and the City that she and the women of Manhattan are “giving up on love and throttling up on power.”
I’m just saying.
Here’s how this is going to work. There are 94 half-hour episodes of Sex and the City to Breaking Bad's 63 hour-ish episodes. Sometimes the viewing will be 1:1, others 2:1 depending on season length. I'm going to finish them both at the same time.
As I go, I’m going to chronicle not so much the basic plots of the episodes so much as whatever happens to strike me about them, particularly any thematic synchronicity that occurs.