So I actually took a break from being self absorbed (just call me Carly Corinthos Jacks!) to feel sorry for Nikolas Cassadine today. Remember when he had a purpose on this show? Now he wakes up (probably neglecting his rapidly aging son), puts on the tightest clothes he can find, and wanders about his empty clinic, drinking generic coffee and fighting with the mayor. If Helena could see him now, she’d throw herself off the parapet in despair. Never would I think I would yearn for the days of Rage! Nikolas but I do. Hell, I miss The Lovahs! If only because I don’t enjoy watching Jason as Acting Mob Boss Legitimate Coffee Importer who skulks around in jeans and black T-shirts.
Let’s talk about Jason for a moment. How many nefarious crime bosses that you know harbor twenty-something, socially awkward computer hackers? At least when Sonny was fostering Stone, Stone was younger and homeless. Spinelli’s just a college dropout with too much access to Wikipedia. Don’t get me wrong, Spin’s a breath of fresh air in the mob dungeon we call a hospital drama, but the nicknames and plaid shorts only go so far. Honestly, if anyone wanted to get to Jason, all they have to do is kidnap Spinelli. Forget about Baby Jake or Elizabeth. Spinelli is the one sleeping in the Penthouse of Solitude every night; he’s the one playing on his computer in Jason’s living room. He’s the queen in this chessboard farce of a mob war.
Is there even a mob war? It seems to me more like mob talking. And talking. And burning things down. And Jerry Jacks being a raging psycho. And Claudia wearing a fascia jacket (wtf?). Maybe it is a mob war because the jacket combined with mini skirt is clearly a crime under the Geneva Convention.
