No one makes mistakes on purpose; though, a marvelousness often hides in the wisdom of missteps. Most would rather eliminate all wrongdoings, sadness, even sickness, and exist perfectly in “love and light.” We yearn for complete freedom and true happiness. And yet, there is no greater teacher than a healthy offense.



Regardless of our wisdom as a civilization, we still fear the reaper. The medieval world of Game of Thrones is one where glancing oddly could cost you your head. Nothing makes sense, there is no morality, and brutality reigns. The horrors of Westeros are minuscule to our own history, lest we forget.

Compare that to now, where violence is abhorred, self-awareness and wisdom is so prominent that a post-spiritual market has arisen, promising miracles, enlightenment, and splendors of the like, all for the price of committing yourself back into the cycle that you thought you were escaping. So obsessed with the purification of the soul, some have even displaced all responsibility entirely onto a man that was apparently abused, tortured, and murdered enough so we all could continue fucking up a while longer. Thus, the animal self became mute as we sought recompense for wrongdoings and starting seeing primal natures as negative, climbing higher on the ladder of atonement. In our blind progression, we have forgotten what it means to be human.

When we first glimpse our Stark heroes in the Game of Thrones pilot, Ned Stark is tasked with making an execution, by law. He implores that his ten-year old son witness the act, stating, “He won’t be a boy forever,” and later, “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” Later on in the season, Tywin Lannister declares to his son, Jamie, “Your mother’s dead. Before long, I’ll be dead. And you. And your brother, and sister, and all of her children… It’s the family name that lives on. It’s all that lives on. Not your personal glory, not your honor, but family.”

As we prolong death, the more we are implored to fear it. It doesn’t help that the most powerful religions of the world use eternal hellfire as punishment for not joining their ranks. In this case, fear of death and the unknown is unquestionably a tool to manipulate minds toward a cause. Adversely, indigenous cultures have offered unique teachings to psychologically prepare the mind for this ultimate transition. As told to Arya Stark, “…there is only one god, and the girl knows its name.”

This inattention to the primal self, our lower chakras, has emasculated the warrior within. The universal response to Game of Thrones proves that a part of us longs to be reborn in blood.

When Arya Stark whispers the names of her victims before sleep, she is a champion of justice. Jon Snow, however, silently forgives the boy who unknowingly murdered the woman he loved—though yes, Jon hangs him later for a more vicious crime. And Tyrion Lannister lies somewhere in the middle, a man of supposed wisdom yet who ultimately succumbed to an emotional patricide.

Regressing to full medieval ‘tude would be impractical. There is room, however, for the assassin armed with pens and perspectives, the dominant force who fears no death and knows what must be done. In a way, the writers of Game of Thrones are succeeding by focusing on amoral consequence, responsibility, taking a stand; strong masculine characteristics—which, before you stop me, exist or not irrespective of gender.

An observer might glance at the world and say we are oversaturated with the male, as old white leaders pull imaginary strings and an endless war economy dominates the middle east. To be superiorly male has become a farce, reduced to the dumb jock, racist hick, or heartless tycoon. Combine them all and you get something to the tune of Donald Trump, which the United States is potentially electing as President. There is no greater evidence for the ill misdirection of our culture than this vast misinterpretation of strength.

Where are the true protectors of the realm? We are dire need of the archetype to be revitalized; the world is run by cowards and manipulators who have no sense of the common good. In the medieval landscape, the corrupt would be dealt with immediately. As of now, we are rightfully moving away from aggression in an attempt to foster peace. We have become more intelligent. Though, we have also become passive in our convictions, losing the courage to stand up for ourselves when offenders take hold.

Every House in Game of Thrones is somewhat aggrandized by their own dreams and visions, and those who seek to justly unite the world—like the favorite, Jon Snow—get themselves in deep shit by standing up to the face of tradition. He campaigns against mindless civil wars in an effort to combat a greater threat. Breaking it down even further, he is displacing an old mindset that no longer serves the world. Indeed, true heroes sacrifice being a part of the world in order for the world to grow.

Game of Thrones is unpredictable, thereby extremely entertaining. As in life, the characters make choices and are immediately forced to deal with them. There is no one to blame for any mistake but the innocence of choice, and you cannot blame innocence. The absence of blame, however, does not absolve one from responsibility and consequence. Quite the contrary—you are plunged into consequence immediately after you have made your choice. You must take responsibility now, because it is the reality you live in. I’d hope that if we elected Donald Trump, we would collectively take responsibility for the monstrosity we created, rather than displace all our hatred, anger, and frustration onto a person we do not know.

While some might fear a jadedness toward the brutality of shows such as Game of Thrones, I propose we are jaded toward inaction, passive aggression, and disillusionment. The show works wonders to deconstruct misguided programming and revitalize the primal, animal integrity we have so carelessly left behind in search of a pseudo-higher path.

Assuredly, there is no higher path than getting downright dirty—embracing life and death, pain and pleasure, compassion and vengeance—and taking ownership of your radiant life. Oh, I guess Mars is still in retrograde. I’ll let you figure that part out.