House of Cards, Season 3

@axelk

Now that Breaking Bad and Lost have ended, national holidays to me are the days new seasons of Survivor, Homeland, The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones and House of Cards premiere. (You know, the major holidays. I have plenty of minor ones too.)

So, Doug is alive *dancing ballerina emoji* and Frank peed on his father's grave.

Doug

Doug came home from the hospital, and we were entertained by the awkward interaction between him and his brother Gary, both hadn't seen each other in 10 years. Doug sent Gary home, assuring Gary that he was going to be ok because he had friends -- they sent him flowers and stocked his fridge with good food.

I thought Doug was only a cold, calculating, has-no-real-friends, almost-mysterious man who was obsessed with his work and addicted to Frank. Turns out he's all that and also a psychopath.

Doug, you didn't realize the accident was actually your golden ticket out to a life without the Underwoods, but no, you were not going to have that. You'd rather patch up your arm with a stick and duct tape and cry on Frank Underwood's lap than wear a hideous, colourful shirt all day on a beach. I had to close one eye when your crazy self kept asking Rachel to read to you. Fetish comes in many forms, I realize now, but that was just creepy. But there is no turning back now, Doug. I thought I could at least root for you a little, as much as I can for House of Cards standards, but even I have to face the truth. It's not going to end well, Doug. You blew it with that van.

(How torturous was it for Doug to listen to Gary's conversation with his kids about the tooth fairy?)

The number one takeaway from the season, however, everyone needs friends. If Doug needs a friend, everyone does.

You know what's stranger than Christian Grey?

The Underwoods.

After a frustrating dead-end evening for both of them and a night run for Claire, Claire dropped both of their pants, and they had sex on the floor while Frank was crying. I was pretty sure Frank just needed a doctor. But after a three-way with Meechum last season that gave me a couple of nightmares and made me jumpy for two days, that is Underwood-normal, I guess.

Others:

- There is no single decent, unscarred soul in DC even when they travel to Moscow. We were hoping we could finally find one in Michael Corrigan, the gay rights activist imprisoned there. Like a plague, he wasn't happy with his life either. He was trapped between an unhappy marriage and a happy front that he had to put on for the cause he was fighting for. He didn't have to kill himself. He could leave the prison, retreat and fight another day. But, of course.

- Although the five-year-old in me had kept playing hundreds of scenarios how the delicate sand art created by the monks could easily be destroyed (Meechum could clumsily turn a fan on, Donald Blythe could come closer than he should and sneeze), I screamed at the screen when the monks swiped it out. Did you know how hard it was (and what kind of sound it produced) to make those?

- Frank Underwood has destroyed my rare and sought-after ability to laugh at politicians' jokes. Those White House Correspondents' Dinners were a stand up treat for me. Now I imagine those jokes can only scare me.

- I want Jackie Sharp's wardrobe and Adam Galloway's apartment.

- Of all the exercise machines that they could afford, the Underwoods chose the rowing machine, one of the most uncomfortable, annoying exercise machines you could have.

- Claire and Frank, in a few rare moments, are just two kids -- best friends -- fascinated by their new surroundings. One example was when they both knelt by the plane's window, admiring the Northern Lights. If this is the only minute you watch House of Cards, you'd think these two must have never been possessed by the devils.

- Claire reminds me of someone from my past. That wide, static smile; cool, calm, bordering condescending tone; sounding posh and kind, carefully selected and enunciated words; and rehearsed reactions that you very well know could mean many things but all far from friendly *shudders*.

- Why are there not many people in the White House? I thought it was supposed to be busy with people milling around, doing important and clever stuff all day. My parents' house in kampung is busier than the White House.