A wise person said to me, many years ago, 'Read Ballard's CRASH. And if you manage to read it to the end, ask yourself _why_ you read it to the end.'

I read CRASH. Slowly at first, and then more slowly. Then I put it down long enough that I forgot the characters' (if such they may be called) names, and when I picked it up I found I lacked the stomach for it.

But who wants to be outdone by a book? I picked it up for the final time & read just the last 2 pages. I've never been quite sure whether that means I've read to the end or not. But I still ask myself _why_.

Ballard, apparently, aimed to write a book that would force people to stop reading, or if they didn't stop reading, it would force them to consciously choose to continue. And then to ask themselves why.

Yesterday I finally saw right to the end of Six Feet Under (Season 5 finale), & at the end, I asked myself why.

I think I kept watching it because by then I had a case of learned helplessness. I kept thinking there might be some cathartic release somewhere along the way. But Six Feet Under, which had always appeared to manage that balance of light & dark, humour & tragedy, seemed to become swamped with its own motifs.

The red-hooded evil guy, the dead people coming back for a chat, the living people wrapped up in their own paranoia, Ruth with her hair up (The Mother), Ruth with her hair down (The Free Spirit) – all of these got a major workout. Particularly in the last episode, where image after crazed image marched across the screen fast enough that I figured the writers must've thought they had another several episodes up their sleeves.

By the finale, you would've endured the Fisher siblings spiralling descents over and over again: David's self-revulsion, Nate's self-pity and Claire's self-aggrandising all seem, by the end, acts of complete immaturity by people destined to repeat themselves. And repeat themselves, and repeat themselves.

Which wouldn't be such a big deal if what they were repeating weren't so clearly their mistakes. Nate, convinced all over again that he's married to a woman he doesn't love. David, practically daring his lover to leave him so he can implode in solitude. Claire … well, nothing ever was good enough for Claire. The only hope for the Fisher clan has only ever come from the outside – Keith, restraining David as he attempts to spiral; Claire with her do-good new boyfriend, Ted. And Nate … well, Nate lucked out in the love stakes. Each and every time.

Repeating themselves and repeating themselves and repeating themselves.

Only death is capable of stopping them.

We grow old, it seems, but how often do we grow up? And of course, the series ends with ( some mild spoilers about the 'endings' )