I love analyzing things. I'm into DVD Commentaries and Wikipedia pages and interviews and IMDb Trivia and everything else, but there are times that I just wish all authors of everything were not even allowed to comment on anything. I dislike knowing that one of the best Indy moments in Raiders of the Lost Ark was because Harrison Ford felt sick that day and didn't want to shoot a whole fight scene, or that Ridley Scott says Deckard was a replicant (ugh, shut up, Ridley Scott) or any reason George Lucas did anything. There are some times I wish the author was too dead to tell me these things, hence, Death of the Author, which is basically the idea that when the author's done with their project, they're dead, and therefore no audience's theory or interpretation can be proven or disproven. David Lynch, for example, dodges a lot of shit by just saying he doesn't know why he did certain things (he's usually lying, and bless him for it - ten points, Lynch, well played). I think things are just more fun that way.
I bring this up because I recently gave The Walking Dead another shot, after giving up on its aimless and slow first season. I was told (by my brother, thanks, Eric!) that Season 2 really picks up, and it does (around the end of episode 7, definitely episode 8 - I know that's pretty late in the game for a TV show to get good, but I'm just happy it got there). I'll avoid spoilers, but there's a combination of moments in the second season's tenth episode, "18 Miles Out," that I really adored as thoughtful, dimensional additions to character. I was also totally fucking wrong and reading far more into them than the showrunners intended.