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‘The Walking Dead’ Just Isn’t Fun Anymore

‘The Walking Dead’ Just Isn’t Fun Anymore porn is what most people call bloody, meaningless images of sadistic cruelty on a TV screen. The Walking Dead, unsurprisingly, calls it prime-time entertainment. Me, I call it exhausting. When real life already seems a few calamitous steps away from dystopia, surviving an hour of pure, relentless misery isn’t entertainment—it’s a chore.

The AMC zombie drama aired its all-time most unwatchable hour Sunday night in a mind-numbingly brutal Season 7 opener that finally, after some ballsy meandering, revealed the identity of Negan’s victim, who was clubbed to death with a barbed-wire baseball bat in last season’s much-maligned cliffhanger. 

It was Abraham, the delightfully profane former Army sergeant who’d evolved into Rick’s right-hand man, who endured the first bone-crushing blow “like a champ,” to mimic Negan’s praise. Abraham, who had recently found happiness with Sasha and began dreaming of settling down. His head, distinct for its bright red hair, reduced to a bloody, pulpy, unrecognizable mess after one last gesture of defiance: “Suck my nuts.”

Cue the camera panning to a stunned Sasha (a woman who’s lost two loved ones violently onscreen and has suffered from PTSD) and Abraham’s ex, Rosita. For extra heightened onscreen trauma, Negan waves the bloodied baseball bat in front of Rosita’s sobbing face, yammering on and on about the most simplistic possible “reason” for all this violence: to teach Rick’s group a lesson.

But wait, there’s more!