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Wire Analysis

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Feb 24th, 2013
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  1. ZIGGY
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  3. Ziggy is a perpetual ****-up, no one is going to argue that point. He seems completely ignorant of his own limitations, no matter how obvious they may be and acts out for seemingly no reason.
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  5. So yeah, it's incredibly easy to hate him, especially when comparing him to Frank or Nick. It was clear to me when I first watched Season 2 that Ziggy was spiraling out of control, and somehow felt trapped in the life he was in, but how did he get there? It wasn't until very recently that I realized all of Ziggy's erratic, idiotic behavior was just a sad little kids desperate attempt to get his father to notice and appreciate him. As much as I love Frank (and I LOVE Frank) the man was an absolutely abysmal father, and it shows again and again as he fails to notice his son slowly going insane.
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  7. When we first meet Zig, its clear that he's a ****ing horrible stevedore, which leads one to wonder why he's there at all. Obviously, he craves the approval that Nick gets from Frank without even trying, but the only time Frank ever really acknowledges his own son is when he's doing something ****ing stupid. I get the feeling that's exactly what Ziggy's childhood was like, and if a kid is raised to think that the only way to get his dads attention is to act out, then he's gonna carry that lesson into his adult years.
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  9. In one of the only real conversations Ziggy and Frank have together, we hear that he has a brother who went to college, which would really be a much better path for Ziggy to take. But he knew even as a little kid that his father's heart belonged to the docks, so he joined a dying union just to try and get closer to him. Of course, the real problems start when Frank decides to get into crime. He was doing it for the noblest of reasons, but by bringing Nick with him to meet the Greeks, he made Ziggy feel excluded and unloved. So, just as he followed his father to the docks, he follows him into crime, hoping that if he shows talent at that he'll get the pat on the back he wants so bad.
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  11. The irony is, no matter how many signals Ziggy sends his dads way, Frank doesn't realize his son is ****ing around with dangerous people. He burns a $100 bill in a bar while covered in bruises, but when his dad brings it up, Ziggy just pulls out a few memories from the old days on the docks, and suddenly Frank forgets the whole thing. It's like Frank's brother says, he should have paid more attention to his own.
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  13. Maybe in the back of his mind, Ziggy knows he's not right for the docks or crime, but he feels like its too late to go back. One of the first moments when I started to emphasize with Ziggy was when he bought the duck specifically because its wings were clipped, making it nothing but a goofy looking bird that can't get anywhere: his spirit animal if you will. That's why I knew Ziggy was doomed the second that duck died as a direct result of Ziggy trying to get everyones attention.
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  15. One of the really horrible things about the guys life is that literally everyone BUT his father pays attention to his hilarious antics. I've said before that the 2nd season is an exploration of how your identity is largely based on the work you do, and Ziggy was in constant search of a real sense of self, but only had two places he could go to try and find it. When he finally shoots Glekas, its because every little insult and ****-up throughout the season has just continually eroded away at his pride and his sense of identity, so when he feels like life has backed him into a corner, he lashes out.
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  17. His conversation with his dad after he got locked up basically lays it all out there for Frank and the viewer. Frank never paid him any attention, and his attempts to get that attention got crazier and crazier until he was in way over his head. So if you ever meet a little kid that reminds you a bit of Ziggy, tell his dad to give the little ****er a hug. It may save his life.
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  19. JIMMY
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  21. I decided to start with our favorite drunken manchild, Jimmy. He's ostensibly the main character of the show, since his mouthing off to Phelan in the courthouse sets the overarching plot of the first 3 seasons in motion. Jimmy simultaneously serves as David Simon's loving tribute to the unique psychoses of a good detective and a brutal deconstruction of the loose-canon hard-drinking cop cliche that is at the center of most cop dramas. Jimmy is a man utterly consumed by his ego and with the exception of his reformed period in Season 4, its his ego that motivates everything he does. When I was watching Season 1 with my housemates, they all initially thought Jimmy was the one cop who cared about the West Baltimore projects and I had to stifle a laugh. Jimmy doesn't care about any of the people the Barksdales or Marlo have killed. Its perfectly articulated in Season 1 Episode 12, when after Wallaces death Daniels feels pity for the kid who tried to do the right thing. Jimmy's response, "With Wallace gone, thats Stringer out of pocket." The only thing he cares about catching his target so he can have one transcendent moment of self-satisfaction. What I find especially depressing about Jimmy is that he never gets that moment, not once in the whole run of the show. Season 1 ends with Stringer still free, The Greek and Vondas get away in Season 2, Stringer dies before McNulty can put the cuffs on in Season 3, and Marlo walks free in Season 5 BECAUSE of Jimmy and his insanity. When you look at everything Jimmy has sacrificed for the sake of chasing targets he never QUITE catches (like his relationship with his two sons, who can't stand him by Season 5) you have to feel sorry for the ****er. But at the same time, he's a DAMN good detective specifically because he's willing to sacrifice everything for his case and it becomes clear in Season 2 (which is really all about how your identity is tied up with your job) that his identity as a good detective is more important to him than his identity as a father or husband. Despite the obvious joy he finds in police work, its the worst possible thing for him, not unlike Bubs addiction to heroin. When he's forced out of the job at the end of the show, even HE knows its for the best.
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  23. One thing I always loved about Jimmy is the way his relationships with his co-workers, specifically Kima, Bunk and Freamon shine a light on to his character. Bunk always serves as the voice of reason to McNulty's self-destructive tendencies, and utters the prophetic line about how he's 'bad for people.' There's no clearer case of it than Kima, who becomes his apprentice during Season 3. Its ironic in that Wire way that even as McNulty slowly starts to realize near the end of Season 3 that there's something wrong with the way he's living his life, Kima's following faithfully in his footsteps. However there's only so far she will go, and its ultimately her who brings McNulty's scheme to light, but more on that in Kima's write-up. Bunk and Freamon both initially seem like McNulty's better angels, with Freamon handing down warnings to 'Junior' specifically because Jimmy is exactly who Lester was before 13 years (and 4 months) in Pawnshop mellowed him out. Maybe McNulty would take the warnings seriously is Lester wasn't so goddamn awesome. When Lester Freamon is telling you that he is your future, the natural response has gotta be, "Really? SWEET!" When Freamon joins McNutty's serial killer scheme, its one of his more unlikeable moments specifically because he knows better. He intends it to be his last case before retirement, but Jimmy's got much longer to go and Freamon seemingly doesn't care about the path he's allowed his protege to take. Looking at Lester can tell you a lot about McNulty, specifically how they are willing to use and discard people for their cases, and thats exactly what Lester did to Jimnmy, whether he knew it or not. While the Bunk wants nothing to do with it, he probably doesn't even realize how much he's enabled McNulty's worst tendencies over the years. Bunk's absolute worst moment is when he desperately tries to convince Season 4's Good McNulty's that deep down he'll always be the same self-destructive ****-up. Part of it is him missing his best friend, and part of it is Bunk loving to have the moral high ground over people and wanting ****-up Jimmy next to him to compare himself to. Once Jimmy does go back to being a ****-up, Bunk washes his hands of him, taking no responsibility for the part he played. Its subtly articulated in a nice little scene where McNulty is editing case files for his serial killer plan, swigging a flask of Jameson, which Bunk takes away as he berates him. But before he leaves, he gives the flask back. That is their relationship in perfect microcosom.
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  25. I've already gone on far too long, but lemme just say this. People act like McNulty's scheme in Season 5 was completely out of character but it really wasn't. You just have to realize how many things have conspired to push him to brink of insanity. He returned to detective work with the promise it would be a new day, and probably knew in the back of his head it would mean the end of him and Beadie. Every person has a limit to the **** they will take, and having a year of surveillance work he didn't get paid for go to waste AFTER he's already pissed away his chance at happiness...let's just say I wasn't as completely surprised like some other people were.
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  27. AVON
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  29. The true definition of a gangsta, Avon's characterization was one of the first indicators I had that I was going to love this show. From all the buildup McNulty gives him in Phelan's courtroom, the viewer is led to expect some bloodthirsty terror (something closer to Marlo, now that I think about it.) Avon certainly has that in him, but he doesn't let it dominate his personality. When its time for business, he's disciplined and ruthless. When its time to throw a barbecue for the projects, he'll throw on a ****ing apron. The writing and the performance both find the perfect balance so the character doesn't feel schizophrenic, they're just contrasting parts of a complete individual. In Season 1 at least, Avon doesn't let what he does for a 'living' consume him, and keeps it from tainting the affable, somewhat loving person at his core. At the same time, he has no illusions about who he is in the larger scheme of things. In that way, he's a happier, more well-adjusted person than McNulty or Stringer. McNulty destroys himself by letting his professional life steamroll over his personal happiness, while Avon tries his best to balance both. Stringer fights futilely against his true nature and origin, while Avon proudly accepts that he is what West Baltimore made him.
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  31. Thinking about what he was like in Season 1, its clear that prison changes him for the worse. Its a really traumatic experience when you think about it (despite the KFC and video games.) He watches D'Angelo move away from him and deeper into drugs, and tries to help him in the only way he really knows how, a clever and cold-blooded criminal scheme. I mean, the guys not a drug counselor. When D ultimately dies, he blames himself for it and this happens while his criminal empire slowly slips out of his grasp, culminating in the the towers he based his hard-earned rep on being split with his cross-town rival. As a king who was so used to being in control of his kingdom, that long year of complete powerlessness was enough to drive him slightly insane. That's why he's so hellbent on making war when he returns to the streets in Season 3.
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  33. This brings him into conflict with Stringer and the difference that was hinted at in Season 1, and articulated in Season 2 becomes a fissure between the two that tears apart everything they built. Both are equally at fault for falling victim to completely opposite flaws. Avon may be happy because he accepts who he is, but he carries it to the point of shortsightedness when he decides to go to war with Marlo. He's more than happy to bet his life on the whims of The Game, he's ecstatic to do it when he has no real reason to. Stringer's destroyed by the opposite problem, an overabundance of ambition. In the end, Avon's loyalty ran deeper though. I was initially shocked that Avon lied to Brianna to cover up Stringer's murder of D'Angelo, but it drives home how truly close the two are, closer as brothers than most ACTUAL brothers. Whereas Stringer came to the point of betraying Avon on his own (under pressure from Prop Joe, but still of his own accord), Avon was essentially forced into betrayal by Brother Mouzone. He was actually willing to pay for Stringer's mistake himself, which I doubt Stringer would do in the same position. Once Stringer actually is dead, the same war Avon found such joy in means nothing to him. He can barely pick up a gun, the purest symbol of his power he could ask for. Its the kind of thing he could only realize when it was too late, and thats why he looks relieved when McNulty comes for him for the last time.
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  36. OMAR
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  38. Where do I even begin? He's everyone's favorite character, even Obama's and it's really easy to see why. He's got more layers than an onion and is played with insane charisma by Michael K. Williams. Part of what makes Omar stand out so much from all the other characters is that he is the only one who is more or less free. Every other character struggles against institutions bigger than them, and ultimately is forced to compromise who they are (even Bubbles has to struggle against an addiction that is usually stronger than he is.) Omar belongs to no institution and owes loyalty to know man, which is precisely why he's so feared in the streets. He can emerge from any shadowy alley, or he can walk straight at you in a broad daylight with a parade of children heralding his arrival. The only thing that restrains Omar is his own code, which comes through piece by piece. He never puts his gun on a civilian, curses or breaks his word and thinks there must be a limit to the brutality inherent in the game. His code is also shot through with a strong sense of revenge, and literally half of the show has him pursuing the Barksdales for violating his sense of honor time and again. That's because, despite his violent exterior, Omar loves and feels deeper than most of the characters on the show, and his emotions control him just as much as his code. One of my favorite moments is when he first ambushes Mouzone, who he thinks tortured Brandon. Obviously, Omar was prepared for someone to kill his boyfriend, but as he says, "That boy was beautiful." If Brandon had simply been shot, Omar would have accepted it. It shows that while others in the game are out for profit or to satisfy their egos, Omar acts (and kills) out of a love that overwhelms his reason.
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  40. However, that's not all that motivates him. It doesn't really become clear until Season 3 and 4 that Omar is having the time of his life robbing drug dealers. He even goes as far as playing little games seemingly for his own amusement, like when he him and Renaldo rob Old Face Andre, and he asks for change. There's something ****ed up about the pleasure he takes in having drug dealers helpless under his gun, and his compulsion to only take from people who can provide him with a challenge isn't unlike McNulty's constant thirst for a worthy target. He hides it underneath piles of charm, but the predator is always there. The only person who can really see past all the theatricality and nobility of Omar is the Bunk, which is why all of their scenes together are absolute gold. At first it seems like they have a lot in common, men who stick to a personal code of honor in an dishonorable world. But the ****ed up world of inverted morality that is Baltimore is partly one of Omar's creation. I think its beautiful in a ****ed up way that Omar plants the seeds of his own destruction when his Season 3 shootout leads little Kenard to declare "I wanna be Omar!" You can tell its something that has never crossed his mind until Bunk lays it out for him in that perfect scene at the bench. Bunk stands as the last outraged moral man in a world gone mad, and Omar is the personification of that chaos, a predator who thrives in a jungle that used to be a community. Is it Omar's fault he didn't have the safe upbringing Bunk did, no. But he does chose to keep ripping and running years after he's made enough money to stop.
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  42. What's most interesting to me about Omar is how he comes to his end. When the Bunk forces him to give his word to stop killing, he actually sticks to it for the rest of Season 4, instead of going after Marlo's head like he normally would. Its when Butchie dies that his belief in keeping his word clashes with his deep desire for revenge. Its not a debate he has for very long, because I think deep down, Omar wanted an excuse to go back to what he knew. The fact that they killed Butchie just made him mad. Its when Omar starts breaking his code that things begin to go downhill for him. Rather than fight against the downward slope, he decides to embrace it, like a tragic hero from Greek myth. Once he breaks his leg, he seems to accept that this is going to be his last hunt. He can't possibly expect to outfight Marlo, Partlow and Snoop on one good leg, but it doesn't stop him from calling Marlo out as a bitch every time he can. If he's going to die, why bother keeping his word or following his code? At that point, it may be less about Butchie and more about going out in a blaze of glory, dying at the hands of someone up to the task. But no one in The Wire gets to go out the way they want (except Bodie.) The moment when Kenard kills Omar is one of the most important in the show, in the grand scheme of things. The Baltimore we see moves in large, grand cycles, one generation replacing the next without even realizing thats what they are doing. Kenard killing Omar is the beginning of the end of the cycle we've been watching, and the start of the next. In the next episode, we see the older characters each moving towards the end of their careers/journeys (McNulty, Marlo, Bubbles, Daniels) while the younger characters like Michael and Dukie are positioned to replace them, not of their own free will, but as playthings of fate. Omar does get one little bit of posthumous victory over Marlo though. After his exile from the game, the streets simply forget Marlo's name, while the legend of Omar grows with every telling. His death wasn't mentioned by the Sun, and his nametag was changed around in the morgue because Omar meant nothing to that world. In the streets however, he's a myth of epic proportions, the kind that will inevitably inspire some other little sociopath to pick up a gun and walk down the street whistling a tune. Indeed.
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  45. BODIE
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  47. This is how you do character development. The only other characters who change as drastically as Bodie (besides the kids) are Prezbo and Carver, but Bodies development feels altogether different. Unlike those two, Bodie's development doesn't happen in big moments, like Colvin's speech to Carver or Prez's accidental shooting of another cop. Bodie changes from the violent, abrasive ******* he was in Season 1 to a calm, mature, likable guy in Season 4 without anything really drastic happening to him to effect that change. That's because the writers simply took the time to show that Bodie was organically growing from a teenager into a man right before our eyes. He's one of the few characters from the Barksdale crew that gets an origin story in Season 1, as told by his grandmother to Herc. He spent the first four years of his life being toted around the projects by his dope fiend mother until she eventually died. In the most critical years of his development, he was surrounded by two kinds of people: drug addicts and drug dealers. So of course he decided he would rather be the later than the former, the only people he could see who had control over their own lives and power over others. His ****ty treatment of every customer he has in Season 1 and his over-eagerness to beat the **** out of them clearly stems from his anger towards his mother. He's just one of those teens who's so angry at the world and everyone around him that he doesn't know what to do with all the aggression, so he does stupid **** like hit a cop while surrounded by a ****load of other cops. He does find a way to channel his rage into ambition, and is clearly eager to be the king one day. But he doesn't realize the cost of his ambition until he's pressured into killing Wallace. He's all gangsta bravado in front of Stringer and Poot, and the scene where he takes Wallace out for a last meal is just really uncomfortable. Bodie seems to think killing Wallace will make him a man, but when it comes time to do it he can't pull the trigger. He yells at Wallace about being a man, but he's really yelling at himself for hesitating. Once he does shoot, he looks downright shocked that he actually did it, to the point of paralysis. One thing I never really thought about was why Bodie had Poot do it with him, but I think even he knew that he wouldn't be able to do it alone. He needed someone to shoulder the guilt along with him, and it really says something about how close their bond is.
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  49. From the moment Stringer orders him to kill Wallace, he takes Bodie under his wing, and as ****ed up as it may sound, is a really good influence on him throughout Seasons 2 and 3. He's basically the father figure he never had whose approval he constantly seeks. Just look at the smug smile on his face when Stringer compliments him during the 'Death Grip' meeting in Season 2. The only person young Bodie ever really listens to is Stringer, and you can see it in all those brief scenes when String takes him aside to give him a little lesson about the importance of intelligence or flexibility. The growth in Bodie is evident in little moments, like in Season 2 when him and Poot are disappointed in the younger dealers for beating the **** out of fiends for no reason, or he develops a business rivalry with Cheese that doesn't end in with baseball bats. Then in Season 3, he's become relaxed enough that he can run into Carver and Herc at the theater and joke around with them instead of starting some ****. However it isn't until Stringer dies and the Barksdale empire collapses that he is forced to become self-sufficient and he grows into his own man.
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  51. Bodie's arc in Season 4 has got to be one of the series' greatest accomplishments. He's gone from wanting to be king of his own little empire to just wanting to live with a little dignity and be treated with some respect. At this point, he becomes downright friendly with Carver and McNulty, while every seen he has with Marlo, Chris or Snoop is brimming with barely contained hostility. At this point, Bodie has mastered his anger, and has even grown enough that he can confront the guilt he's been holding on to from Wallace's death. Bodie can't wrap his head around why Little Kevin had to die, even though its no different from Wallace's murder. Poot knows this, but Bodie still can't quite admit it, still has to believe there was a reason he killed his friend, even if he doesn't really sound convinced anymore. What I didn't realize until just last night was that Wallace and Little Kevin were killed in very similar ways: led into an empty rowhouse and left there. When he sees Kevin's body being taken out, he finally snaps and realizes not only how little his life means to people like Marlo, but how deeply inhuman what he did to Wallace was. So when he finally talks to McNulty, he's trying to make amends and asserting his dignity, even half-quoting Zapata when he says, "Don't ask me to live on my ****ing knees." The chess lesson from D'Angelo that was lost on him completely in Season 1 now makes perfect sense to him You can tell McNulty can relate to everything Bodie says about being mistreated by your employers when all you've done is do your job to the best of your ability. McNulty knows enough about Bodie and his identity to remind him that he's still a soldier, which is really an act of wonderful kindness, because when it comes down to it, that's who Bodie has always been and wanted to be. And when Chris and Snoop approach him in the dark, he can choose between living on his knees as a snitch, or dying on his feet as a soldier. Bodie gets the unfortunate honor of being the only character on The Wire to chose his death, and accept fate with dignity. So wear half of your jacket, throw on an untied doo-rag, and spit through your teeth for West Baltimore's truest soldier.
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  54. D'ANGELO
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  56. We first meet D'Angelo while he's on trial for murder, the kind of character introduction you would normally give to a cold-blooded killer. The writers want us to think that's who D is, just so they can spend every scene after the courtroom intro tearing that image down. Turns out the murder was a stupid mistake, and when some guy tries to beat his ass, he simply panicked. Its our first real indication that he's simply not the same type as Wee-Bey, Stinkum or the other Barksdale lieutenants. He's there because he's family and everyone knows it. This comes into sharper focus once he's down in the Pit and is constantly challenged by the aggressive Bodie. D'Angelo swings back and forth between trying to prove to the kids under his employ that he's much harder than he is, and trying to impart some of his nascent morals to them. He tries to hold on to his basic decency while taking part in a brutal, amoral business, and he grapples with that contradiction with varying degrees of success. I don't even think its something he's really aware of until he sees Wallace struggle with the same problem, which puts it into focus for him. He encourages him to go back to school in one of my favorite Season 1 scenes because he wants Wallace to escape from a life he already feels trapped in. Even as McNulty ends up tearing apart his world piece by piece, the two have quite a bit in common. They're both great at their jobs (D runs the Pit much better than expected), but refuse to follow all of the rules of their institution. In the end, they'e both punished, D for his loyalty and McNulty for his insolence. When D finally does decide to snitch, its Wallace death that tips the scales. He obviously saw a younger version of himself in the kid, and when he looked at the picture of his body, it had to feel like he was looking at his future. And he really was, the tragedy is that he saw it and failed to avoid it. Like Wallace, he comes to the edge of the cliff and pulls back at the last minute to return to the only life he knows. Watching his mom convince him to take the weight for Avon is difficult just because she's right to a certain extent. I actually read in an interview with David Simon that the majority of people who go into Witness Protection end up going right back to the place they came from, because they find it next to impossible to just start a new life from scratch, with no family and no friends. D'Angelo is so convinced of this that he chooses 20 years in prison over a life with no foundation.
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  58. His growth in Season 2 to me, is like a big unanswered question. He slips into drug addiction just to dull his senses, but Avon's hot shot scheme shakes some life back into him. When he's reminded of who and what his uncle is, it reminds him of who he is and where he stands. He finally decides he wants no part of Avon's business, but he doesn't immediately run to the cops to start snitching. At first I was really confused by that, why would he take 20 years for a man he now hates? Then I realized that his loyalty went beyond Avon. He has aunts and cousins who are referenced that would be out on the street if the empire collapsed, a mother who would likely be put behind bars, and a young son who's mother has no income. Whether he would have snitched after a few more years of ****ty prison food, we'll never know, but now his decision to stay in prison seems selfless, a kind of martyrdom that becomes literal. Shortly before his death, D gives one of the most important monologues in the entire show, one that explains many of the other characters as well. He's realized that no matter where he is or what he does, he is a Barksdale and his life is The Game. No one can escape their past, because your past makes you who you are, and you can't run from yourself. He came to a similar realization in Season 1, when he took Donnette out to a fancy dinner. Its essentially a more self-aware version of the Ruths Chris scene from Season 4. D realized that even though they had money, the fact that he was born the projects marked him as separate from that world forever. When he was pouring his soul out to McNulty and Pearlman, D said he just wanted a chance to breath like regular folk, so its fitting that he's strangled to death, constricted by the life he was born into. Cuz the pawns man, they be out the game early.
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