Breaking Bad Theory - a quantum leap

Spoiler alert: I wrote this after viewing episode 13 of series 5 of Breaking Bad. To be on the safe side, do not read on unless you've got that far. For those who haven't seen the show at all, there'll be very little here that is meaningful.

One of the best things about this show - and in particular about this final set of eight episodes - is that one cannot help but ask "How is it going to end?" Every time the credits pop up we are recalibrating our expectations: Hank on the toilet seat; Jesse with the petrol can; Neo-Nazi desert shoot-out. Each week we think we've got some idea about how this story is going to play out, and each week something happens that we never saw coming. Our plans are scuppered almost as badly as they are for the characters themselves.

Though my hit rate for guessing what's going to happen next is as low as it can be, it never stops me from plotting the rest of the series out in my head. I'm going to give myself a fighting chance here by making only broad strokes.

My latest (and perhaps final) outlandish prediction is that Vince Gilligan's show that is famously about turning Mr Chips into Scarface will attempt to change the audience's mind about Walter White again - he'll try to make us empathise with this ex-chemitry teacher once more.

By the time of the flash forward to Walt celebrating his 52nd birthday, he will have lost everything - Skyler, Walt Jr, Holly, his home, even the car wash. His potential allies (Saul, Jesse, Hank, Lydia, whoever) are either dead, dead against him, or otherwise totally ambivalent to Walt's fate.

He will have realised that whilst he was pursuing financial security for his family, he has lost what makes a good family in the first place - trust, integrity, safety from harm, love. He will still have his money, but no one to give it to. So what does he do? We already know what this man does when faced with the fear of losing his life and leaving his family destitute. What will he do when he's already lost everything, including that family?

He will be tracking down the Neo Nazis and offing them. And he'll not be stopping there. He'll be acting as a bounty hunter, killing drug dealers and manufacturers before the cancer takes him. With any luck, he'll be able to tell himself before he dies that he is a good man, and that the world (or at least new Mexico) was better off for having him in it for a little over 52 years.

In his vain attempt to put right what he had made wrong, he'll be like an ultra-tragic Sam Beckett from Quantum Leap. He'll be travelling around, using his massive brain for good by killing those in the industry he was once a part of. He'll convince himself that he's tying up loose ends, like he always has been.

He'll still be Walt, his own worst enemy. He'll still be a victim of his own hubris, thinking that he has the right answer for every situation. But along with the arrogance there will be at least some humility. He will carry on trying to make up for his past transgressions, but will know that, like Quantum Leap's Sam, he can never return home. All he can do with his little time left is try to make things a little less bad.

One mini-prediction: Walt doesn't die. How fitting it would be that a character so acutely aware of their own mortality, in a show so filled with death, should survive, only to have a thoroughly empty existence. A tragic end, to be sure. But we all knew at least that much from the very start, didn't we? This was not going to end well.

A response to ‘10 reasons it’s OK to use your mobile at a gig'

I like a good argument. So when I saw this article's headline, I leapt at it. I was ready to have my ideas challenged. Surely, the only reason it’s OK to use a mobile at a gig is to call the emergency services (perhaps after someone has been assaulted for using their phone at a gig).

As I read Wendy Fonarow’s list, it struck me how well it consolidated my reasons for why it is not OK to use your phone at a concert of any kind. I don’t think I’ve read a piece that has convinced me of the opposite view as much as this piece.

Let’s look at her reasons.

1. Things are supposed to be distracting

Fonarow argues that distraction is the reason to go to a gig - to be dazzled by one aural-visual delight after another, each spectacle more brain-frazzling than the last. That sea of backlit screens in front of you makes the distraction more frequent and more frenetic, and therefore better.

No. Gigs are supposed to be the exact opposite. Not distracting, but absorbing. I want to be hypnotised, focused, taken away from my all-too-usually mundane life. I want to be part of a crowd that is being pulled along in the same direction. A mobile-user being absorbed in anything other than themselves are likely to hear the distinctive clink of their head on the inside of their self-imposed bubble.

2. There are worse ways to watch a show

Fonarow attempts to defend the oft-repeated criticism that there is little to be gained from watching a show pixelated through a tiny screen by saying there are worse ways to watch, such as relying on the big screens obsessed with closeups of “singers and females in the audience”. How an iPhone at the back of a field is going to get anything better is beyond me. I’m all for attacking the obsession with frontmen and encouraging more screen time for the drummer, but filming the backs of heads doesn’t forward the cause. And if the venue is at fault for not making it easy to see the band, maybe you should go to Sheffield Arena less, and the Leadmill more.

3. It’s not about making a great recording of the event

“Some people think that if they didn’t take a photo, it didn’t happen.” As special as you might think it is, U2 doing a third encore isn’t Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. Perhaps a reliance on mobile phones to “actuate experiences” is a problem solved by not using your phone so much. Arguing that mobiles at gigs should be encouraged because people need status-enhancing content is like saying that my addiction to fatty, salty foods can be aided by bigger bags of crisps.

4. It’s a way of communicating with friends

Apparently, people “just want to let their current network of friends know what they are doing.” A tenner says your current network of friends can wait an hour and a bit before you dazzle them with your latest dispatches from the field.

“Before mobile phones you could not leave your friends at a festival or concert.” Yes, you could! Two of my favourite Glastonbury memories involve deliberately going off on my own for a bit. A friend and I parted so he could see the Flaming Lips and I could see Leftfield. When we reunited we talked into the night about how good a time we’d had. To this day we still debate about which might have been better. The other time was skipping out on my friends because they weren’t massive fans of Radiohead. I wanted to be up front, surrounded by my own kind, not listening to a cacophony of philistines moan about the lack of guitars. “When are they gonna play Creep?” Never, if we’re lucky.

5. Wish you were here?

Ah, yes. Fomo, or ‘fear of missing out’. A more prevalent and corrosive social phenomenon is ‘fear of appearing like you wish you were elsewhere’ (the acronym won’t catch on, alas). Take a look at that posse posing for the camera, doing their best happy gurns. Within seconds of the phone being put away, they’re back to moaning about their legs hurting and wondering when they can ditch the guy who’s been hanging around since Jools Holland. Be happy where you are, or go somewhere else. Don’t worry about convincing others that they’re having a worse time than you.

6. It’s sometimes the only way to make yourself heard

Texting at gigs to the person next to you? Really? Going to loud gigs is one of the few places we can just shut up for a minutes and listen. And as for bar orders by text, if you get me Jack Daniel’s, or Coke, or a Shirley Temple, or Budweiser (dear me!), don’t expect to get a text from me telling you where I’m standing now.

7. Phone use makes the musicians step it up

Who has ever judged a band on shaky footage taken on smartphones? The people who watch these things are people who were there and are checking whether they’re in the videos themselves, or those who couldn’t make it who are desperately searching for decent clips. Both ambitions are wildly optimistic. It’s the sound quality of the recordings, not the performances, that make people turn off before the end.

8. We all get to have a conversation

Have your conversations in cafes and pubs, not at gigs. If something can’t wait, go to the back of the room. If you want to watch a hashtag develop for an event, save your money and don’t go to the gig - just watch your screen somewhere else.

9. It alleviates boredom

Our need for continuous networking needs to be interrupted, not pandered to. Perhaps, if you put that thing down for more than a minute you might notice that there is more to what you’ve paid to see than the mere surface. This network that people are so fond of wants the clicks, not the attention. It’s in the interests of sites like Facebook for us to not pay attention to any of the content too much. The more clicks made, the more advertising finds its target. The band, on the other hand, want nothing other than your attention. If you can’t do that, get out of the way of people who can.

10. It might annoy the band to be filmed on a phone

If you don’t like the band and you want to annoy them, you’d be better off not going to the gig at all. There’s nothing worse for a band than an audience failing to acknowledge their inflated sense of self. I’m sure the mobile users can relate to that, at least.

Breaking Bad Poem 1

Hank putting on Jesse’s seatbelt.

Hank telling Marie that Jesse was a little ‘keyed-up’.

Jesse looking at the picture of Walt dressed as Father Christmas.

Jesse perusing the shelves at Hank and Marie’s.

Picking up a book on the Dutch.

Jesse spitting out ‘Mr White’.



In order to avoid spoiling Breaking Bad for those that have not seen the latest episode (Series 5, episode 12), I am putting my poem here instead of on Twitter.

AMH