Hey you! Yeah, you! Remember when you read that Onion article with the headline, "Guest Lies Awake Well into Morning so as Not to Wake the Rest of the House?" Or, something like that? Remember how you were all, "That - that is so me." Well ... pump. Your. Self.
Not since HBO was all, "we in that", has "Preacher" news seemed so, like, "do that." Like, "That would be awesome. I dared not to dream. Perfect fit. Finally. Just do it." The audacity of the hope of the idea that the hole I used to put Breaking Bad into one day have the pleasure and convience of being the perfect size for a three to five season-long, AMC-helmed, "Preacher" run. The pitch is so head-slappingly perfect, I wouldn't have dared tease myself with such a possibility.
There was once a time I told myself, "You know, these prequels might not be so bad. That Darth Maul guy looks like a proper Vader replacement and I do like that trailer there." But then, wouldn't you assume ... he was dead, not at the end of three movies, but by the end of the 3rd act. And so was the last of my childhood hope. Replaced by the ceramic bliss of adult disenchantment.
Or so I thought ...
If ever there was a time to indulge in some racially insensitive knee slapping -this, THIS - is that occasion.