Angel is a Cheese Doodle

Before you go scratching your heads, please let me explain. You see, I was having a conversation with my fellow bloggers about the direction Angel's character has taken in Season 8 and the discussion ended with this quote by me: "Angel has become the cheese doodle that fell into the couch cushion, could have been enjoyed, but destroyed by the asses that now sit upon him."

It's a simple analogy really and comes with a kind of light heartedness that can only derive from (hyperbolic) loss and pain. I was a huge Angel fan. I loved everything about this character - story, conflicts, hotness. Even when Angel was at his worst, he was at his best to me. It was the hope that kept me hanging on. I liked that no matter what line was crossed, Angel the Vampire was ready to dust off his duster and try again. It was life in a nutshell to me - the idea that we all have a chance to do better the next time. Angel made a lot of mistakes, sometimes for the greater good and sometimes for his own selfish reasons, just like we do. Yet, he strived to be a better man from the moment he first met Buffy in an alleyway to the moment he faced off with hoards of demons in yet another alleyway.

Please take notice of the past tense here. That's because I'm not sure how to feel about Angel right now. Trust me, it feels like horrible betrayal as I write this. I'm an Angel fan - I'm supposed to stick by his side, right? Well, for some reason, I can't quite stay on board with the character this time. Do I feel sympathy for him? Sure. Do I think he got himself wrapped up in yet another fate vs. free will mess? You betcha. But, there's a difference here...I'm not sure I care anymore. Maybe it has to do with Giles' death or maybe it's something else that will come to me later, but all I know is I've just become apathetic and this my friends is worse than hatred.

Now, I could easily blame Mr. Whedon for this debacle and claim that "My Angel" would never do that, but that's not how I view fiction. To me, Angel is Joss and therefore, he would do that and anything else his creator inks on the page. I'm just holding on to the hope that Angel's new book can change my mind. I'm hoping I can love Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody again. If not, I'll just resign myself to remembering when....

So, here I am. Instead of eating a delicious, bright orange, finger-staining cheese doodle, I'm stuck looking for itty-bitty crumbs hidden under the sofa cushion. Sigh.