It's (almost) that time of year again, when I rate new episodes of Mad Men based not on the quality of the show -- which tends to be uniformly high -- but on how suicidal it makes the viewer.
Using a scale of 1 to 5 razor blades, I'll discuss the most depressing aspects of the program. It doesn't help that the show airs late-ish on Sunday nights, when most of us are already quivering wrecks anticipating the work week ahead.
Not surprisingly, my sympathies and biases tend to lie with Peggy and Joan. However, I'm also a sucker for Don Draper's melancholy speeches, especially when they involve the definition of nostalgia.
For a refresher on where we last left our booze-addled pals, who recently emptied out the office in the middle of the night to secretly start a new company, click here. (Aw, remember when Pete and his wife danced up a storm at Sterling's wedding, a la Donald and Daisy Duck?)
Next Sunday night/Monday morning I'll kick things off for the new season.