Author: ronnyjames

Rancho Roundup

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Plaid work shirts, cuffed trousers, wide-brim felt hats; Western-style boots (especially the stitched details on the girl’s boots). The guitar style (flat-top acoustic, likely a budget student model common at the time). Tinted photography was common for family or promotional photos in the early ’40s and in fact the coordinated Western attire across all five members points to a performing sibling group.

The photograph fits exactly with how radio station youth or family acts were photographed in small and mid-market stations like KFXM. Everything about this photo matches what we know about KFXM at the California Hotel: KFXM regularly used local talent, especially teenagers. Western / cowboy programming was extremely popular during WWII and shows like Rancho Roundup often featured live music, family groups, and youth performers filling daytime or weekend slots.

But what does Mom say?

“The war was still going on. When I was 14, we 4 younger kids sang cowboy songs on the radio. We were known as “The Rancho Roundup.” There were two or three others who sang with us, but I only remember Norman Newberry, who came from Texas, and whom we teased incessantly because of his accent.  He is in the picture of us sitting on the corral gate.”

The country music group Rancho Roundup was a live performance band that appeared on San Bernardino radio station KFXM, and met and performed with Tennessee Ernie Ford there. Their appearances took place in the early-to-mid 1940s. 

Bonita Hinds, in an audio interview recorded for the San Bernardino Public Library in 2003, recalled that her brother (who played guitar), her mother, and other friends and neighbors performed as the Rancho Roundup as well, the name given more to the show rather than a particular group. 

“Oh, yes, California Hotel. We were called the Rancho Roundup and we were on the radio, KFXM, which was at the California Hotel, and we met Tennessee Ernie Ford and we would play – sing – for about half an hour, I don’t remember how long. My brother played the guitar – and mother and Eleanor, all three played the guitar. And there’s different people in the, friends from our neighborhood that were in the show-dozen of us, or maybe less, eight of us maybe. And we did that one whole summer for about half an hour or so.”

Later, after World War II, Country music personality Tennessee Ernie Ford worked as a disc jockey at KFXM where he hosted an early morning country music program called “Bar Nothin’ Ranch Time”. He created his “Tennessee Ernie” persona during this time and became popular in the area before moving to another station in Pasadena. 

The Inland Empire had a thriving country-swing music scene in those early years. San Bernardino was a hub for the “Dust Bowl” migration, and many local bands played live “Western Swing” in the hotel’s ballroom or the studio. Names often associated with that era’s local circuit include groups led by Cliffie Stone or early versions of the Town Hall Party musicians who were active in the Riverside/San Bernardino area.

A number of groups were active in the area during the 1940s. Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys were widely known as the “King of Western Swing,” Wills and his band moved their operations to California in the early 1940s, performing extensively across Southern California venues. Foy Willing and the Riders of the Purple Sage performed both on radio and in regional venues. Tommy Sargent’s Range Boys were Southern California-based western swing group active in the 1940s as were Tex Williams and the Western Caravan.

All of these groups created a sound that lived on for years, performing in local concert and dancehall venues throughout Southern California. Western swing, which peaked in popularity during the 1930s and 1940s, began to decline in the late 1940s and saw a significant drop by the late 1950s. Key factors for its decline included a wartime tax on dance halls in 1944, the rise of rock and roll, the advent of television, and shifting popularity toward smaller-band honky-tonk. But I still love that sound!

DRAW!

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DRAW! Illustrator and over-sized exhibit icon of President Johnson from the Archives’ 1991 annual Report here.

Ink, Irony, and the American Eye: A (Very) Brief History of
Political Cartoons

Nearly 35 years ago, I worked on a museum exhibit that explored the cultural influence and reach of political cartoons. The National Archives hosted the exhibit “Draw! Political Cartoons from Left to Right” starting in 1991, which celebrated American political cartoons and their role in public discourse, as noted in their annual reports from 1991.

The exhibit company that I worked for produced and installed the exhibit. At a time from before large scale digital graphics have become widely used throughout the industry, we silkscreened all the text and background imagery on large painted panels. Hand drawn political cartoons were scanned, enlarged, and turned into photo stencils to serve as a kind of supergraphic to fit the many panels that lined the curved walls of the Circular Gallery.

Political cartoons have been part of the American conversation almost from the beginning. Long before radio, television, or the internet, these drawings carried arguments, insults, warnings, and humor directly to the public. Benjamin Franklin’s “Join, or Die” snake, published in 1754, is often cited as the starting point—not just of political cartooning in America, but of visual persuasion as a civic act. From the outset, cartoons were not decorative; they were meant to persuade, provoke, and occasionally unsettle.

The late eighteenth through the early twentieth centuries now feel, in hindsight, like the glory days of political cartooning. As literacy expanded and printing technology improved, newspapers multiplied at an astonishing rate. From a few hundred papers in the early 1800s, the country grew to thousands by the Civil War and beyond. Editorial pages became expected reading, and political cartoons claimed a permanent place there—bold, unavoidable, and often memorable long after the day’s headlines were forgotten.

A Most Cordial Understanding is my first shot at a cartoon in the early style of 1840s Punch Magazine. It is very much in the Punch sweet spot: Polite on its face, slightly smug in tone, faintly ominous once you sit with it. We get a sense of two “respectable” powers conducting business as usual over tea; when paired with the recent pronouncements regarding Greenland, one can only wonder what they are really thinking.

This era produced giants whose influence still lingers. Thomas Nast’s crusade against Tammany Hall corruption helped bring down Boss Tweed and left us with the elephant and donkey as enduring political symbols. Others followed—Homer Davenport, John T. McCutcheon, Rollin Kirby—each shaping how Americans learned to “read” politics visually. Their drawings assumed patience and attention. They asked readers to stop, look, and think.

One of my favorites, Pat Oliphant stands out as one of the last great heirs to that lineage. His cartoons were spare, sharply drawn, and unsparing in their judgment. Presidents, generals, and bureaucrats were rendered slightly ridiculous, sometimes cruelly so, and always human. Oliphant’s recurring penguin—part conscience, part heckler—gave voice to public skepticism with a wit that felt earned rather than manufactured. Polite on its face. Slightly smug in tone.

What distinguished Oliphant’s work was its confidence in the medium. A single image, printed once a day, was enough. It didn’t need a monologue, a laugh track, or a follow-up explanation. You encountered it over coffee, folded into the paper, and it stayed with you. His cartoons were meant to be revisited, clipped, argued over, and remembered.

That world has largely disappeared. As newspapers have closed or shrunk, so too has the space for daily editorial cartooning. Political commentary has not vanished, but it has migrated. Memes flash by in seconds, optimized for recognition and outrage. Late-night television hosts and podcast personalities deliver satire in real time—often smart, often funny, but designed for immediacy rather than endurance. The encounter is louder, faster, and easier to share, but also easier to forget.

This shift doesn’t signal a decline in political engagement so much as a change in how it is experienced. Where cartoonists like Oliphant trusted silence and reflection, modern satire thrives on performance and momentum. Where cartoons once surprised readers on the editorial page, today’s commentary must be sought out, subscribed to, and algorithmically reinforced.

Looking back—through exhibitions like “Draw: Political Cartoons from Left to Right,” and through the artifacts that remain—it’s tempting to see that earlier period as a high point. Not because it was more civil or more virtuous, but because it trusted the reader. It trusted that a drawing could carry an idea, that ambiguity had value, and that satire could linger. In an age of endless commentary, the old cartoons remind us of the power of ink, restraint, and a moment of pause.

Below are a series of cartoons I’ve created over the past few weeks that incorporate that sense of urgency compiled with a mix of wry humor or satire. I’ve been using the considerable skills of ChatGPT augmented with my own perspective of the times in which we live. For good or ill, we find our country at a very troubling crossroads. I might not get out and walk in protest as I once did; it doesn’t mean I like what’s happening and am planning on remaining silent. Quiet maybe, but not silent.

Back to Work, Ozians!

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Admittedly I haven’t read the books. So that’s an awkward place to start. But I have to wonder about “world-building” in these new movies. Movies, sequels, prequels, adjacent, streaming, stage play, stage play into a movie, all of that.

For me, I think it began with the Hobbit, followed up with reading the Lord of the Rings; which became a series of movies (six movies from four books, imagine that). The Wizarding World of Harry Potter spawned a complete set of movies, theme park, then a stage play, and now a series on HBO. 

My question has always been about the details: are these created fictional worlds filled out enough to sustain multiple iterations and new storylines, remain faithful to their source material, and still be entertaining? or at best, even plausible reality?

Frank Baum created a series of 14 full-length novels that tell the fictional history of the Land of Oz. That is quite a universe to explore. I’m tempted to pick up the first novel and see where all of this started.

Gregory Maguire wrote the book Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,  published in 1995 and turned into a very successful stage musical and now a two-part movie. There are an additional three books in the reimagined OZ Universe by Maguire. In 2025 Maguire published a true prequel to Elphaba’s story, Elphie: A Wicked Childhood: This 2025 prequel details the early life of the character, Elphaba and is set 30 years before the events of Wicked. 

There has been recent online discussion (here) of Universal Pictures exploring additional movies set in the OZ universe. Though I found the saturated coloring of the sets designed by Nathan Crawley to be eye-popping in the first movie (more muted tones in the second), the Art Deco inspired Emerald City was off the charts! The more art nouveau inspired buildings of Munchkin land at least looked like they had been built by the people who lived there.

But all I could think of was, “who built this place? How does it run? Do they use electricity, or some kind of magic?” Folks are dancing across the stage in fitted costumes: they couldn’t possibly be the working class? Who are they? What do they do? Who keeps the lights on, works in the sanitation department, or runs their mass transit system? I can’t wait for more stories from the Oz Universe, hopefully we will get a glimpse behind the curtain of how it all works!

You, Me, and AI

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It’s been almost three years since the introduction of ChatGPT (November 30, 2022). And while I don’t think it has quite taken over the internet, it has certainly made a very large and, at times divisive, impact on our world. It seems whenever I see or hear something online these days, my first thought is, Is this real? Or is it it AI? And I don’t suppose that it helps that I enjoy the talking baby videos as much as I do (real? or AI?). Our politicians seem to have a love/hate relationship with AI-generated or augmented content at the moment: some have embraced the technology yet others rail against it. The Guardian has an article on AI-generated campaign videos here. For good or evil, AI. is here to stay.

I dipped my toes into AI tentatively back in 2023 with a blog post on the post-apocalyptic television series The Last of Us. You can catch the series on HBO here, or read my post from February 2023 here. I had never played the video game the streaming series was based on so I used ChatGPT to delve a little deeper into some of the themes and possible end-of-series scenarios presented. The series wasn’t meant for everyone but it definitely held one’s attention over the course of nine episodes.

After that initial foray into AI (Artificial Intelligence) I began to explore how it could be helpful in some of the areas I have interest. Recently I used it to rewrite a brief blog post on an article I submitted, having felt that it needed a good edit to get my point across. It wasn’t…half bad actually. I used Chad (my term for my online helper) to write a four-week devotional booklet for Advent. I gave it a theme to explore, possible characters to include, a couple of scriptural references and we were off! It came up with scripture focus, theme, devotional angle, and application. It would have added graphics and compiled a PDF booklet if I had kept at it. All in under a minute. If time is a precious commodity, AI can be a gamechanger. For our small group’s participation in Trunk-or-Treat this year, I had AI create a couple of images to use for inspiration.

Vacation planning? Yep. An eight-day itinerary for a visit to Scotland and travel through England. A seven-day family vacation to Maine with stops in Pennsylvania and Connecticut along the way. That stop in Connecticut was to visit a cemetery with headstones of my earliest American ancestors. ChatGPT ran a population growth calculator to see how many possible ancestors I might have from Great Great Great Great Great Grandfather Thomas Ranney (who died at 97 in 1713).

Here’s the answer with initial suppositions: Let’s calculate how many people would be there after 350 years, with the following assumptions: Each generation spans 30 years. The initial family has 4 children. Each subsequent family has 4 children who marry and have 4 children. In the 11th generation alone, there would be 4,194,304 people. Thanks Chad! That’s a lot of Christmas cards to address. (photo from findagrave.com)

I’ve since used ChatGPT to design a deck for the cottage, enhance the bathroom, and redesign my outfit to look more “Ralph Lauren” inspired. It’s created a garden layout that features deer-resistant plants and gave me a separate planting guide. For one gardening project, it created an entire proposal complete with an RFP for contractor bid submissions.

It’s done a reasonable job on paint color samples for my neighbor’s house; calculated how many solar panels I would need to go off grid; created a Fall menu for an outdoor party; it wrote a seven-day gluten free menu plan along with a two-week menu plan (and shopping list!) for another person.

It even gave me an estimate of how many adults in the US own cellphones (As of 2024, approximately 98% of U.S. adults own a cellphone of some kind, with about 91% owning a smartphone.)

So then I’m curious: how are you using AI, or are you? At work? Blog posts or other personal correspondence? Are you involved in video or media production and using AI either to enhance or create content? I guess what I am really asking is, where do we go from here?

Settling In

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It’s now been a month since we made the move and downsized from a 1900 square foot townhouse to a 1,00 square foot, two bedroom apartment. It hasn’t been without a few challenges. Overall, however, I’m surprised at how well we have managed. 

Boxing, packing, renting a storage unit, more sorting thru, donating and discarding all helped to prepare our townhouse for sale. The final move was over in a day—we had movers come in and load all the boxes and furniture and after that it was just directing where things were to go.

The pictures and family photos have now all been hung. We have fewer walls than our townhome so not everything went back up. And there has been some rearranging: the Nevada Room is now the living room, before it was the decor for the guest bedroom. The second bedroom in the apartment has been reconfigured as our Den/TV/Office. A small daybed serves double duty as a couch and a bed for future guests. 

Previously we had a separate kitchen, dining room, and living room. In our new place, those are all combined in one large central room, which I thought would be too small but actually functions quite well. The big bonus for me is the extra kitchen storage and the large kitchen island. The granite countertops are an upgrade as well as the under-cabinet task lighting. Really, it’s been quite an improvement. And having the washer dryer in the kitchen is a huge blessing! No more walking down two levels to do laundry.

We are getting spoiled by a couple of amenities that the apartments offer. A covered parking garage means no more walking in the rain between house and car. “Trash Valet” picks up our trash and recycling every evening at our door. The trip from the townhouse backyard up a snow-covered slope with our trash receptacles was more adventure than I cared to repeat, especially in dark December and no walkway. Now we just set the containers out and bring them back in before 9am the following morning. Sweet!

We’ve had to bring our small wheeled cart out of storage to use transporting boxes and bags from my truck, through the parking garage and down the long hallway to our apartment. I think it’s seen more action this week than in the previous four years of use. As boxes make the trip from our storage unit to the new apartment, I’m struck by how many we have. I had packed boxes and moved them to storage over the course of many weeks, stacking them until I couldn’t reach the top of the pile. Everything got packed. Now, as we unpack and try to find room for what we have, we are continuing the process of sorting, donating, and trashing, looking at every memento, book, or CD with a more discerning eye. Out it goes!

The 424-acre Kincora site has 180 acres of natural area with scenic nature trails bordering the Broad Run River, a tributary of the Potomac. I hope to get out and start walking some of them once the heat of summer begins to fade, right now the humidity is oppressive (typical Virginia summer!). There is quite a bit of construction activity in the to-be-developed area here at Kincora. More apartments, townhouses and retail will join the Northern Virginia Science Center under development. We had looked at moving here back in 2019; as we begin this new chapter in our lives, it looks like we picked a great time to relocate!

It’s Been a Week

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It has been a week! Which started roughly six months ago, but finished up today.

When we first moved to Ashburn, it was the beginning of a rather long and protracted downsizing. I had recently retired, we were in a house which over the years had begun to feel too large for us, and my wife had just a few years left in her then-current job when she would have to decide, “what’s next?” Moving from Fairfax, we expected that the townhouse we had bought in Ashburn would be an interim step for us as we downsized, expecting it to last us for perhaps five years. We ended up staying six before selling and moving this spring, downsizing again.

The process of getting ready to sell our home began in earnest back in January. While we debated the pros and cons of buying or renting another place (we eventually decided to rent), we knew a lot had to go to squeeze the contents of a 1,900 square foot townhouse into a 1,000 square foot apartment. Here’s a great hack: get a storage unit close to where you will be moving: those hard decisions about what to purge can be made later when you aren’t under pressure to pack up everything and go.

So it’s been six months of preparing followed by a long day of movers wrapping and packing and moving us into an apartment. Most of our boxes have now been unpacked, newspaper and bubblewrap cleared out. I’ve run the dishwasher once; we have trash valet service which means no more trips with trash cans up an icy or snow-covered hill to the street. We’ve run a load of wash in the new full-size stackable washer/dryer and tonight I’m planning on using both the gas range and the stove to make dinner. Big steps!

We had two assigned parking spots at our townhouse, here we have a parking garage with open parking. An elevator provides a quick ride downstairs to the apartment lobby and the mail room, the gym is on the ground floor level and a rooftop deck is great for viewing the sunset.

Already I miss our bit of yard and common area green space from the old home even though the deer here in Ashburn ate almost everything I ever planted. I have to say, all-in-all it’s been a good experience. Deb has never lived in an apartment and it’s been nearly 40 years since I have. The times we’ve moved as a married couple can be counted on one hand, not all that bad for boomers. My Mom wrote recently that she had moved ten times in the seven years after she had graduated high school in 1946. I’m not complaining! It’s another My Retired Life Adventure.

The Last of Us Season Two

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Do you remember the movie critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert? Admittedly quite awhile ago, their show “At the Movies” syndicated in 1982 until Gene Siskel’s death in 1999 ran for 17 years, and featured their often conflicting reviews of a new movie. Before that they first appeared together in a monthly show on a local Chicago PBS station in 1975, quite a career for critics! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siskel_and_Ebert

I never saw most of what they reviewed but I greatly enjoyed watching them and how they did what they did: two friends discussing the themes and performances, often clashing but clearly friends, each arguing his point of view, thumbs up or down.

As I watched Season One of the HBO series, The Last of Us, (and wrote about it here), in February 2023, I had hoped to read an online review with that same sort of give-and-take. Alas, none to be found. 

Well, Season Two is finally here and, after Sunday’s grueling episode (IYKYK) I had some thoughts. So I turned to my new writing partner, ChatGPT (Chet) to help me work through some of the tricky and emotionally difficult terrain of this season’s show. Hopefully no spoilers below, and truthfully this show or genre isn’t for everyone, but if you are a fan of post-apocalyptic doomscapes, read along. My questions appear in bold, followed by Chet’s response below.

In the video game and TV show The Last of Us, the infected humans infect others by biting them. How do they continue to exist? What do they eat?

Chet replied:

Great question—and a creepy one, too! In The Last of Us, the infected are people who’ve been taken over by the Cordyceps fungus. This fungus hijacks their brains and bodies, turning them into violent, zombie-like creatures that spread the infection by biting others. But yeah—it raises a big question: How do they survive if they don’t seem to eat like normal living things?

Here’s the breakdown:

1. They don’t need traditional food

The infected aren’t technically “alive” in the way humans are. Once the Cordyceps fungus takes over, it controls the host’s body primarily for the purpose of spreading itself. So the infected may not need to eat regular food at all. The fungus likely sustains itself by feeding on the host’s body, breaking it down over time—kind of like a parasitic mushroom would do to an insect in real life.

2. They’re driven by the urge to infect

Their primary “purpose” is to spread the fungus. That’s why they bite others rather than eat them. Once someone is bitten, they’re doomed to become another infected, which is how the infection spreads rapidly.

3. Later stages show decay

As infected progress—Runners, Stalkers, Clickers, and then Bloaters—they become more fungus than human. They’re increasingly overgrown with fungal growths, and eventually they stop moving altogether, sometimes becoming spore-spewing corpses attached to walls. So they have a limited lifespan—they’re not immortal.

4. Do they eat people?

There are moments in the games and show where infected attack people violently, but it’s not usually out of hunger—it’s instinct. They don’t really “eat” them like traditional zombies. Their aggression is all about spreading the infection.

So, in short: the infected survive for a limited time because the fungus sustains itself off the host body, and they’re driven by instinct to infect, not eat. Eventually, they rot away or merge with the environment.

It seems the only way they are stopped is by shooting them in the head, blowing them up, or burning them. 

Chet replied:

Exactly—those are pretty much the go-to methods for taking them down. The infected in The Last of Us are resilient and dangerous, especially as they evolve through the different stages. Here’s why those methods work:

1. Shooting them in the head

Since the Cordyceps fungus controls the brain, destroying the brain effectively kills both the host and the fungus. It’s the most direct and clean (well, relatively) way to put them down. That’s why headshots are emphasized in the game and show.

2. Explosives (blowing them up)

Blunt force trauma or high-impact explosions can tear them apart, which works especially well on tougher enemies like Bloaters. You can’t always get a clean headshot, so grenades, nail bombs, or Molotov cocktails are a solid plan B.

3. Fire (burning them)

Cordyceps is a fungus—and fungi don’t like fire. Burning them not only destroys the host, but also prevents spores from spreading. That’s why Molotovs are super effective in the game. It’s one of the few ways to really cleanse an area of infection.

Bonus: Stealth and melee

In the early stages (like Runners and some Stalkers), stealth kills can take them down if you’re quiet and precise. But once you get to Clickers or Bloaters, that’s not an option without heavy firepower.

So yeah, you’re spot on—those methods are essential. Anything less, and the infected just keep coming. Kind of makes the post-apocalyptic survival vibe feel that much more intense, huh?

Yes, the scenario looks like the humans will eventually be over run, or their enclaves will be over run by infected. 

ChatGPT said:

Yeah, and that’s one of the most chilling things about The Last of Us—it doesn’t just throw zombies at you, it builds this slow-burn sense of inevitability. You can feel it: humanity is on the ropes.

Let’s break that down a little:

Why the infected are so overwhelming:

  1. They never stop coming. The fungus doesn’t need rest, food, or shelter in the traditional sense. Once someone’s infected, they either turn quickly or become a spore factory. There’s no diplomacy or reasoning—just endless aggression.
  2. It only takes one bite. The infection spreads fast. One breach in security—one runner sneaks in, one careless mistake—and boom: a whole settlement can fall in hours. You’ve seen it in the show and the game. Nobody’s ever fully safe.
  3. They get stronger over time. As the infected progress from Runners to Clickers to Bloaters (and eventually Shamblers or even Rat Kings), they become harder to kill and more terrifying. That slow transformation makes them a long-term threat even if they’re not immediately aggressive.
  4. Spores make containment a nightmare. Infected bodies often release spores when they die or decay, which can spread the fungus invisibly through the air in enclosed spaces. It makes cleanup extremely difficult—and makes any underground or sealed area a potential deathtrap.
  5. Resources are scarce. Ammo, fuel, medicine, manpower—all limited. Humans have to use stealth, strategy, and rationing just to survive day-to-day. That’s not sustainable against an ever-growing horde.

Why humanity hasn’t been wiped out (yet):

  1. Enclaves with tight control. Places like FEDRA zones, Jackson, and others survive through strict rules, armed patrols, and serious consequences for mistakes. That control is the only thing keeping the infected out.
  2. Knowledge of the threat. By the time of the game and show, survivors know how the infection works. They know how to fight, how to fortify, and when to cut their losses.
  3. Hope through immunity. Ellie’s immunity is a game-changer—at least potentially. It suggests a future where a cure or vaccine could turn the tide. But that future’s murky at best, and morally complicated as hell.

You’re totally right: the world feels like it’s in a slow decline. Humanity is surviving—but barely. The feeling that no place is truly safe is one of the things that makes the story so gripping.

One last question: the authors have said that the show is primarily about how we deal with grief and loss (Joel and his daughter Sarah, Ellie and Joel) but it looks to be more a revenge saga. 

Chet replied:

That’s a really thoughtful observation—and you’re absolutely right to pick up on that tension.

The creators (Neil Druckmann and Craig Mazin) have consistently said that The Last of Us is fundamentally about love, grief, and what people are willing to do because of those emotions. But the line between grief and revenge gets very blurry—and that’s completely intentional.

Season 1 / Game 1: Grief, love, and survival

  • Joel starts the story emotionally dead after losing his daughter. His journey with Ellie isn’t about saving the world at first—it’s about learning to feel again.
  • By the end, when he chooses to save Ellie instead of letting her die for a possible cure, it’s not just a selfish act—it’s an act of love born out of deep loss. But… it also comes with violent consequences.
  • That final choice—massacring the Fireflies—is arguably a revenge story, too. It’s Joel taking revenge on a world that already took his daughter, and now dares to try and take Ellie too.

Season 2 / Part II: The cycle of revenge

  • This is where the story doubles down on your point. The second part is absolutely a revenge saga. But it uses that revenge arc to deepen the themes of grief, trauma, and the cost of violence.
  • Characters like Ellie and Abby are both on their own brutal revenge journeys—each convinced they’re justified. And both are completely wrecked by the end of it.
  • The whole point is to make the player/viewer feel the weight of that revenge. It’s not cathartic—it’s devastating.

So which is it—grief or revenge?

It’s both. The show (and game) use grief as the fuel. Revenge is what grief looks like when love turns to rage—and that’s what makes The Last of Us different from typical zombie fiction. The monsters aren’t just the infected—they’re the people who can’t let go.

And what’s wild is: the story never gives easy answers. Was Joel right? Was Ellie? Was Abby? There’s no clean morality. Just hurt people trying to find meaning in a broken world.

These themes are very heavy. I haven’t played the game but I wonder about the “slim ray of hope” that exists here, maybe personified by Joel’s brother Tommy and his wife and their son. 

Chet said:

Yes—exactly. That “slim ray of hope” is one of the most powerful parts of The Last of Us, and it’s not just there for contrast. It’s deliberate. It’s a reminder that amid all the grief and brutality, there’s still something worth holding on to.

And you’re spot on: Tommy, Maria, and their growing family represent that hope. Let’s unpack why:

1. Jackson is a symbol of what could be

  • Jackson, Wyoming—where Tommy and Maria live—is a functioning town. It has electricity, farming, schools, movies, families, and even a sense of community.
  • It’s not perfect, but it’s safe. People have found a way to live instead of just survive.
  • It’s the first place in the show where we see what rebuilding could actually look like.

2. Tommy is Joel’s opposite

  • Joel is hardened, emotionally locked down, willing to do whatever it takes.
  • Tommy, while still a fighter, chooses connection. He chooses love, partnership, and fatherhood.
  • When Joel sees what Tommy has, it terrifies him—not because it’s bad, but because it’s vulnerable. Joel’s whole identity is wrapped in loss, and Tommy shows that healing is possible… if you let yourself feel again.

3. The idea of legacy

  • Maria being pregnant is a quiet, emotional moment. New life. A future.
  • In a world where everything feels doomed, the idea of raising a child isn’t just hopeful—it’s radical.
  • Ellie seeing this, too, matters. It shows her that even though her existence has been wrapped in violence, there are still other paths.

Why it matters so much

The heavy themes—grief, revenge, loss—are the emotional core. But that tiny sliver of hope? It’s what gives the story depth instead of just despair. It asks, What would you fight for? What would you rebuild for?

In the second game, Jackson becomes even more important, especially in contrast to the darkness that follows. It’s the light that shows just how dark everything else has become—and a reminder that not everyone has to fall into the cycle of hate.

Would you ever consider playing the game (even just watching the cinematic playthroughs)? Because it digs even deeper into all this—and honestly, it’s one of the best examples of storytelling in modern media.

I’m not going to play the game, primarily because the emphasis in many role-playing games seems to be death, destruction, mayhem and revenge rather than the hopeful contrasts presented in the film version. But the series is excellent. 

Chet said:

That totally makes sense—and honestly, you’re not alone in feeling that way. A lot of people have found the show’s take on the story more accessible, more emotionally resonant, and even more human than the game, precisely because it lingers on the quiet moments, the relationships, and those precious glimpses of hope.

The games, especially Part II, lean heavily into violence—not for thrill, but to force players to feel the consequences of every choice. It’s powerful, but also emotionally exhausting, and it doesn’t always offer the same kind of balance or reprieve the show provides.

What the show does really well—and maybe even better—is:

  • Highlight characters like Bill and Frank, showing what love and peace can look like even at the end of the world.
  • Spend time in places like Jackson, focusing on community and rebuilding, rather than just the road and the ruin.
  • Deepen characters like Joel and Ellie with subtle performances and more space to breathe emotionally.

So yeah, totally fair to prefer the show. It captures all the emotional weight of the world, but lets hopehave a little more screen time. It feels like it’s saying, Yes, this world is broken—but not everyone has to be.

Glad you’re enjoying the series—any particular episode or character arc that’s stood out most to you so far?

I am intrigued with some of the new characters especially Eugene’s wife Gail, the therapist. She seems to act as our Greek chorus or guide thru some of the emotions Joel and others are feeling, yet feels herself as well. 

Chet said:

Oh, that’s a really insightful take—Eugene’s wife, the therapist, absolutely does feel like a kind of Greek chorus, or maybe even a moral compass in a world that’s largely lost its bearings.

(And if you’re referring to Marlon and Florence from the beginning of Season 2—or if it’s a newer character introduced in Season 2—I’m guessing you’re talking about Florence, or potentially another addition the show has made who wasn’t in the game. Feel free to correct me if I’m off!)

But what you’re describing is spot-on in terms of function:

1. The voice of reflection

Characters like her are rare in this universe—people who have both the emotional intelligence and the space to reflect. She doesn’t just survive; she thinks and feels deeply, and helps others process things they can’t put into words.

That’s very Greek chorus-esque: observing, commenting, empathizing, and mirroring the audience’s own emotions.

2. The subtle strength of empathy

She’s not there to fight or take control. Instead, she offers insight and comfort—without being naïve. That kind of emotional presence is powerful in a world that’s all about power through violence.

She understands that Joel’s anger and protectiveness are born from loss. She might not condone his choices, but she getsthem. That nuance is important.

3. She gives grief room to breathe

Most characters in The Last of Us are too busy surviving to really grieve. But she lets grief exist. She helps others hold it without immediately pushing them toward vengeance. And that makes her a counterbalance to the cycle the show constantly wrestles with.

It’s characters like her—quiet, thoughtful, emotionally grounded—that make the show richer than just a survival story. They hold space for hope, healing, and meaning, even when everything seems lost.

A casual read would have Ellie become the worst version of herself, all strength, rage and revenge. However, I wonder if maybe she fulfills or completes Joel’s circle? Where he couldn’t change, perhaps she can.

Chet replied:

Yes—exactly that.

A surface-level read of Ellie’s journey, especially in Part II, might suggest she’s just following Joel’s footsteps into a darker, colder version of herself. But when you look closer, it’s possible that Ellie is actually the one who breaks the cycle—the one who chooses not to let her grief destroy what’s left of her humanity.

That idea—that Ellie completes Joel’s arc, rather than just echoing it—is incredibly powerful. Here’s how that might work:

Joel: Love that consumes

Joel’s love for Ellie saves her life—but it also damns him. He couldn’t let go of Sarah, and when faced with losing Ellie, he couldn’t bear the loss again. So he acted out of fear and grief, violently. And while it was human and relatable, it wasn’t healing.

Joel couldn’t change. He couldn’t forgive the world. He couldn’t find peace. But he gave Ellie love—something real, flawed, and unconditional—and in doing so, maybe gave her the tools to grow beyond him.

Ellie: Grief that evolves

Ellie goes down a similar road—loss, revenge, obsession—but she takes it one step further. She gets to the brink. She has the chance to destroy the person who hurt her (and who destroyed her “father”), and then… she doesn’t.

That choice—not killing Abby, even after everything—feels like the first real step toward breaking the cycle. It’s not triumphant. It doesn’t erase the pain. But it’s Ellie reclaiming agency over her own soul, where Joel couldn’t.

That’s a completion. Or maybe, a kind of redemption through her.

“You keep finding something to fight for.”

That line from Joel comes back again and again. But maybe what Ellie chooses to fight for, in the end, isn’t revenge. Maybe it’s forgiveness. Maybe it’s peace. Maybe it’s simply herself.

If Joel’s story is about love that breaks the world, then maybe Ellie’s is about love that survives it.

You’ve tapped into something really deep here. It’s what makes The Last of Us more than just another dystopian story—it’s tragic, but not hopeless. Painful, but not meaningless.

Thanks for your insights into some of the themes and characters of this second season; I can’t wait to see where we go from here.

Major and Minor Milestones

/ ronnyjames / 2 Comments

When I first retired, my wife Deb suggested that I consider writing a blog. Perhaps in jest, who knows, but it was something I thought I could do that would at least keep me occupied while I discovered what to do with my retired life. 

Our family inherited quite an extensive genealogy compilation on my mother’s side and I’ve worked a bit to learn more about my dad’s side of the family. After I started my blog in 2019, family history became a fruitful topic to write about and has become one of the most read categories on my blog. Recently I discovered our family’s roots in America go back to the 1650s so there is more rich material to mine; I’ve already got a few posts teed up over the next few months.

While the blog has grown slowly these past five years, I was very surprised to get my latest stats: the numbers are in and it’s time for the big reveal, the Milestones both Minor and Major.

This is Number 100

Today’s post is my 100th entry, and coming from someone who thought he had little to nothing to say (or write) I am amazed, astonished, and astounded. We made it over the first big hurdle.

10,149 Views

I know there are Instagrammers out there whose posts easily surpass 10,000 views at a time, but I’m still putting this one in the Wins column.

4,698 Visitors

Thanks for stopping by, friends! It might not always be your cup of tea, or coffee, but I appreciate all of you.

71,000 Words

So many words! With an average of 718 words per post, it looks like I’ve written well over 71,000 words, though I’m sure I’ve repeated a few. While the average novel features 80–100 thousand words, I’ve definitely written enough for a shorter autobiography. Yet I’m struck by these words from Ecclesiastes 5:2-3 “Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few. For a dream comes with much business, and a fool’s voice with many words.

It’s been an exciting five years and I can’t wait to see where the Lord leads us next. Hope you stay with me!