In the realm of Game of Thrones, a man's sagacious counsel shall be penned in the lyrical prose of Tyrion Lannister, embodying the essence of Jaqen H'ghar's enigmatic philosophy. Alas, the anticipation of a man's lofty expectations for the grand finale of this epic saga was met with a resounding crash. None among us foresaw such a woeful conclusion, leaving intricate storylines unfulfilled, casting them aside like forgotten dreams.
A man must acknowledge that a series as grand as Game of Thrones harbored no aspirations to gratify our fanciful yearnings for a picture-perfect ending. Instead, it strove to invoke controversy, to enthrall us with twists and turns, and to keep us longing for more. Lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms, whether devout followers since its inception in 2011 or those who traversed its realm in a mere fortnight, share in the collective misery of this abysmal denouement.
As Tyrion Lannister once imparted to the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen, the first of her name and the breaker of chains, we must comprehend our adversaries, see through their eyes, and discern their machinations. A man finds inspiration in Tyrion's wisdom, delving into the inner workings of the writers and marketing strategists who devised this conclusion.
The imperfection of the ending was not a flaw but a deliberate ploy to stir the tempestuous waters of controversy, ensuring that Valar Dohaeris, the duty to entertain, would persist. Those who sought a blissful resolution after witnessing the beheading of Ned Stark or enduring the blood-soaked wedding known as the Red Wedding were destined to be disappointed.
It raises the Jaqen H'ghar question: Does death only come for the wicked, leaving the righteous unscathed? Nay, the creators bequeathed upon us a calamitous ending, akin to an open door beckoning spin-offs aplenty. One can envisage tales of the faceless men of Braavos, the enigmatic Varys (though departed from this mortal coil, a prequel chronicling his treacherous path and his fall from grace), Arya Stark embarking on new adventures across the vast Westeros, Sansa, the queen in the North, the unwavering Grey Worm and his unsullied brethren charting their path to Naath, and, perchance, a sequel rekindling the battle of the Targaryens, where the resolute Daenerys rises triumphantly from the ashes to reclaim her throne, clashing against Jon Snow, now Aegon Targaryen. Forgive the ineptitude of these provisional titles for spin-offs.
A boy's courage, surpassing his wisdom, shall forever be recounted as the tale of Brandon, bestowed with extraordinary powers that ultimately yielded naught, contributing naught to the tapestry of the story. 😂
Not only did his character exude a sense of self-importance, with the utterance, "What do you think I came here for?" resembling the words of Lord Baelish, advocating the art of keeping foes perplexed, preventing them from discerning one's true identity and intentions. It proved irksome to witness, exacerbated by the gratification derived from Sansa Stark's ascension while they anointed the Three-Eyed Raven, the Bird King. Their pursuit of power resulted in the annihilation of their own House, and so the memory keeper deemed it fitting to dispatch Jon Snow to the Night's Watch, where he shall dwell devoid of amorous entanglements— let it be known that the brooding Jon Snow, once entangled in the wildling's embrace, must tread cautiously in the realm of the Night's Watch.
No maiden, reminiscent of the fiery Ygritte, who hath returned from beyond the Wall, shall tempt his resolve. Forsooth, should such a temptation ensue, he shall falter and break the sacred regulations, much like his companion, the bookish Samwell Tarly. This tale draws to a close, my lord. 😌"
