Luther

Today I ate a pound of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch cereal. While I was filling my stomach with that saccharine breakfast goop, I was filling my mind with six hours of the BBC’s Luther.

I’m a big fan of Idris Elba’s work. Now that I’ve finally seen the television series that he’s used to stamp his mark on the world, I’ve come to like the British giant even more.

This scene is absolutely incredible. First, it sort of reminds me of this scene from Louie, which shook me pretty hard when I first watched it.

I’ve wondered about death ever since I first became aware of it. The thoughts come hard and fast when I’m lonely and sad, but even at my happiest, I wonder what it would be like if I just got hit by a bus right now.

I went on a very stressful family vacation last summer to America’s southwest to see the Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon. At both tourist traps I scooted as close to the edge as I could and looked down. From the top of the dam I could see the roiling water of the Colorado River being spat out of the massive electric generators. From the top of the canyon I could barely make out the green stripe of water that had spent the last eon carving through stone. I stood on the edge and thought. I was terrified. I was curious.

I didn’t, but it wouldn’t have mattered whether I jumped or I fell.

The second great aspect of this scene is how poignant and profound Luther is (or at least is trying to be) and how he is absolutely stonewalled by his colleague. He dangles the question (“Do you not worry you’re on the devil’s side and not even knowing it?”) like some would hang a meaty steak in front of a dog, waiting for him to snatch at it, gnaw on it, so they can play a little tug of war with it.

But all he gets is “Nope.”

I wish I could enjoy America’s Next Top Model, but I don’t. Instead I stand on rooftops, worry about death and the devil and try so desperately to stop thinking about plummeting downwards.