Tork is last seen sitting on the floor of a hotel room reading Antonin Artaud’s Watchfiends and Rack Screams, surrounded by bags of prescription pills and guns. Is the book a metaphor telling us these are Tork’s final days of insanity? I understand that brotherly love is unconditional, but is he really about to bring a war to SAMCRO? If so, I feel sorry for him. He won’t get far. Jax tasks Unser with finding out more about him. There will be a weakness, and it will be exploited.

And we come right back around to Clay, who is now free to start his own side business of gunrunning. While trading the money for Wendy, he and Gaalan talk. Clay is the only person Gaalan trusts in Charming. Like a bitch, Clay asks for a ride back to Ireland to hide out for a couple of months, and requests an extra seat for Gemma. Gaalan says it’s a go.

Clay presents the offer to Gemma, who spends a little too much time in this episode genuinely snuggling up to him. I actually thought she was considering going, but then she shows up to smooch on Nero immediately afterward, so I have no idea. This whole love triangle should not be as interesting as it is, but the odd dynamics intrigue me. Obviously I hope she breaks Clay’s heart a second time.

Before that, though, Clay resubmits his offer to Tig to join him on the IRA deal. No politics, just money. And though Tig has mentally given Clay the boot, he doesn’t say no. I see this as being the only way Tig lives through Pope’s intentions to kill him. Pope is interested in the Charming Heights deal, but tells Jax if he doesn’t deliver Tig, then everything else they have is finished. But he does offer advice when Jax asks for it. He tells him to come at Clay from a different angle. “Payback by proxy.” So maybe Jax is going to hire someone to do the job. Maybe Jax will dress Clay up like Tig and let Pope kill him. Dream finale right there.

Okay, so I have two more problems beyond Clay not squealing like a pig during his tattoo blotting. One: THE DOCUMENTS WERE A FUCKING MACGUFFIN! I really didn’t want to believe that this is how they would take this. The entire “proof and reason behind Clay hiring the Nomads” turns to nothing. He shows Gemma after confessing all his shit to the club. It feels like we were all put through the wringer for no reason other than the writers backing themselves into a corner. I won’t forgive them for this.

Second, what the hell is wrong with Romeo and Co., bursting into a room filled with crates of fucking rocket-powered grenades, and then shooting their guns off willy nilly at people HIDING BEHIND THESE SAME CRATES! To paraphrase a friend of mine, tonight could have been the series finale.

Not that it needs to be amazing in order to make this season a game-changer, but I really hope next week’s finale actually ties up some things in addition to unraveling more plot threads to set up next season. Already, my head hurts thinking about going another eight or nine months without new episodes. Can withdrawals begin even as you’re still hooked? See you next week!

Stuff That Fell Off the Back of the Bike

What was that song during the last few minutes? I loved it so hard.

It’s funny to hear grown men say “Mr. Mayhem” like they do. Though I wouldn’t tell them that. Or think it in their presence.

Bobby, you don’t know nothing ‘bout how that gavel corrupts. Mark Boone Jr. isn’t a thespian, but he always delivers when it’s his time to shine. It takes more than you might imagine making those corny lines actually sound dramatic. And still slightly corny.

What a strange joy it was to watch Jax and Augie the Advisor talk. Though Jax appears dismissive and implies August may be biding his time before a takeover, I think he’s quite jealous of the loyalty August shows to Pope.

“We can’t all be all things,” is the kind of advice that Pope should fill a book with. I’d buy it, because he told me to.

The gun that Juice is interested in is one that Piney gave to Clay for his five year anniversary. He always thought he’d give it to Opie, but since that can’t happen, he gives it to Juice. Ugh. Juice does not deserve Opie’s intended shit. He deserves his old stuff third-hand. That’s right, Juice, I saw how visibly relieved you were when Bobby voted against Clay’s death. I saw it, and I spit on it.

Jax’s wide-eyed and sneery warning to Bobby: “I’m sure that the right thing will settle in. But today, if I get you alone, VP, I’m gonna tear your goddamned head off.” Bobby is saving the club by breaking the president down to his primitive instincts. Not too smart.

Nero’s doctor client goes to the clubhouse while everyone is on lockdown, in order to patch up Clay’s face. It easily could have been that doctor’s worst night ever had something gone down. Why didn’t Nero warn him?

How much American stand-up comedy from the 1980s does Gaalan watch?
“So long as she doesn’t pack like my wife, there’ll be room.”
And white people do stuff like this. And Irish people drink stuff like this.

Hey, Dave Navarro, nice job not looking like a woman for once.

“I don’t feel guilty. You earned it.” The gall of Clay telling Tig not to feel guilty about voting for his death must be as big as Perlman’s skull.

When Clay cuts his shirt sleeve and stabs the table with the knife, my TV started dripping faux testosterone on the floor.

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