#ineffability

(The rewritten, more honest and straightforward version)

*About how a philosophical comedy-drama was Bait-And-Switched as if it was a fated tragedy all along*

I suppose we could argue that there were Clues there for a tragedy. With hindsight, we can find a few -- especially squashed in-between the adorable comic clips in the GO3 trailer. But that's where it all goes pear-shaped.

This new Good Omens concept of fated tragedy and final self-sacrifice was silently lurking behind a HUGE 7-year pile of sweet, encouraging, and comedic moments (topped off by a Muppetmobile Ice Cream Bentley!). There was drama and heartache and danger, sure, but an overall sense of playfulness -- and most of all, HOPE.

We were told it was the planned conclusion of the beloved book, where Crowley is an optimist. and they are ALREADY a couple signaling their devotion under the radar. Where summers never end for a reformed Antichrist, and Crowley's vehicle finally plays what he wants to listen to, and a Professional Descendent can choose not to be one, and Warlock will get 39 flavors of ice cream. And even Greasy Johnson, that forgotten 3rd baby from the convent, will get his happy ending.

Because there never was an apple that wasn't worth the trouble you got into for eating it. (Everybody Lives!)

That's where the story began. And ended, once upon time. That's where the continuation seemed to be going. We were justified in expecting it. Were they giving us smoke and mirrors all along? Was the 3 Card Monte meant for us?

No one goes to see Shakespeare's Hamlet or Richard II (or Romeo & Juliet) expecting a joyful Happy Ending. If we sit down to watch Dystopian Sci-Fi, we know the protagonist will be sacrificing something, maybe even their own survival. We bought the ticket. We're braced for whatever comes.

We watch movies and shows and theatre because, well -- LIFE. It's hard enough already. Sometimes we're simply there for the laughter and love and beautiful storytelling and a much-needed escape.

All good stories reflect Life in some way. If it's a really good one, we see ourselves in it. Stories help us laugh when we need Joy, or cry when our own tears are silently locked inside.

We invest in the characters, who to hate and who to love. The ones that deeply relate to us can help us know more about who we are and who we're trying to be.

We choose the story we need in our lives. We chose Our Ineffables.

(more about Apples and that lovely thing called Free Will, under the cut)

Follow me, if you will, on a journey:

Aziraphale, discorporated, having defied Heaven for the first time in 6,000+ years, and in search of a body to possess, demon-style, hears Crowley sob, "I lost my best friend," referring to him:

"So sorry to hear it."

Aziraphale, having just given the love of his existence the means to destroy himself completely, at great personal risk to Aziraphale, is offered a ride, "anywhere you want to go," while barely managing to stave of a full-blown human panic attack:

"You go too fast for me, Crowley."

Side dishes:

Aziraphale, having just discovered the infamous Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, in his lover's backseat, days before the apocalypse, and clearly in a state:

"Tickety-boo! Mind how you go!"

Aziraphale, having broken up with and completely disavowed his demon lover in a dramatic public display days before the apocalypse, sees said estranged demon pull up at his curb and shout desperate apologies in front of everyone and God, then insult his intelligence:

"I forgive you."

I was thinking about Aziraphale's line, "You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. God's plans are--" and he was going to say "ineffable" (possibly).

You can't judge the Almighty out loud, though he is clearly thinking it, judging by the pained look on his face. At first glance, it makes perfect sense: of course he would say you can't judge the almighty, he is an angel, isn't he? That's what angels do, they obey the word of God, and they don't question it, because God is Good and knows everything. Of course.

Only, Crawley was an angel once, too. So was Hastur, so was Satan, so was the rest of "their lot". Then, something happened; some angels began to ask questions, some angels began to judge the Almighty, some angels revolted and those angels fell from grace and were cast out of Heaven. Regardless of whether they actively revolted or they only perhaps challenged Her, they were all banished to Hell, all deemed unworthy and unforgivable.

You can't judge the Almighty. Judging the Almighty gets you a one way ticket to doing a million light year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur. You can't judge the Almighty, you do not judge the Almighty, you do not talk about it, you do not disobey -- everyone knows what'll happen.

Aziraphale wants so badly to do the right thing -- after all, he is an angel, and angels do the right thing. Not only that, but again, there's the looming threat of eternal damnation. Only, the right thing isn't very clear. When you don't know what "the right thing" is, that causes a lot of anxiety.

He has Heaven giving him conflicting rules: killing is bad, but we're going to kill these bad people; love everyone, but hate some of them; be kind and reverent, but if another angel disobeys you then get your buddies together and mess them up.

And yes, that's the point! The point is dolphins that Heaven & Hell aren't really Good & Evil, they're really just different sides. That's where the conflict arises: Aziraphale's sense of "the right thing" is more in line with the general idea of "good" that is fairly widely agreed upon, e.g. you do things to the benefit of others, you avoid harming others, you treat others with kindness and respect. Heaven's sense of "the right thing" is also these things, but also sometimes not, and sometimes these other things, but you had better listen to our instructions, and we're not going to clarify for you when you're supposed to know which is which.

It seems a bit like when you start a new job and the person training you says, "Well this is how you're SUPPOSED to do it, but this is how we REALLY do it, but not all the time." Only, they don't tell you when you're supposed to do things by the book, or when you're supposed to break the rules. You find out when they get mad at you (at best) for not meeting quotas or deadlines (because you followed the rules), or fired for doing things against the rules (because you were trying to keep up the way everyone else seems to be able to do). In this case, they quite literally tried to fire Aziraphale, but I digress.

That sounds very familiar -- every other angel seems to be able to intuit what "the rules" are, and when it's okay or even expected to break them (such as Michael's use of the back channels, Gabriel's verbal denial of said back channels, and the unspoken agreement that they are both fully aware of what they are doing). There are times where Aziraphale breaks the rules himself when he has an overwhelming feeling that it is the "right thing to do" (I mean, flaming sword and everything), but not without intense anxiety about it ("I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing."). There are other times where he needs Crowley's help to justify what he feels like the right thing is, but he thinks/knows it's against the rules (see: thwarting Crowley's wiles), and he can't figure out how to skirt them. I might do more about this later, because there's a lot to say about Crowley, but it's a whole nother post.

Add into this the fact that all of Aziraphale's superiors routinely pick apart his choices and put him down, they slate him for failure before he's even had a chance to prove them wrong. This repeated behavior builds up this feeling that you CANNOT trust your own instincts, that you need outside guidance to make the right decision. I would wager this is why Aziraphale is seen as one of those "book smart, common sense stupid" kinds of people -- he doesn't trust his own common sense because everyone important in his life (besides Crowley) has told him it's wrong. That sort of anxiety leads to a lot of overthinking, and a lot of overthinking produces a lot of weird results, which only further disorients you from what your instincts tell you to do.

So if you can't listen to yourself, who do you listen to?

The angels (and demons) reactions to being told it's ineffable is interesting, too. (I think that was the starting point kicking off the Thought.) Almost all of them just... accept it? Like, they all believe in and follow the Plan. At the airbase, it's clear they know the Great Plan is also called the Ineffable Plan, but neither Gabriel nor Beelzebub seems to have thought that through at all? Do they really know what "ineffable" means? Do any of them actually know what "ineffable" means?

That includes our favourite duo, actually. Aziraphale, especially in early scenes, and later when faced with the big conflicts of his existence, holds it up like a shield when anything doesn't make sense to him. "But mum said it's ineffable!" It sounds like he's heard it a lot. Aziraphale actively doesn't ask questions until very late in the show. You can see them coming up, and then he squashes them, like he does with doubts, and the squashing tool is a baseball bat with "ineffable!" written on it. Aziraphale too was told as a young angel that it's ineffable, and he embraced that as a comfort.

And Crowley? Crowley is made of questions, and he does indeed question ineffability, too. He questions it when Aziraphale throws it as an explanation in a discussion they're having, he questions God, the Plan, individual elements of the Plan, and the entire morality of it. Crowley hates being told it's ineffable. Crowley is the kid who was told "it's ineffable" to make him stop asking "why, why, why mom", until he was kicked out for being so bloody annoying. (And even that didn't stop him.)