Last night I chose to catch an Aero double bill — Peter Bogdanovich‘s She’s Funny That Way and Bill Teck‘s One Day Since Yesterday: Peter Bogdanovich and the Lost American Film, a sad doc about the making of They All Laughed and the marginally delated state of Bogdanovich’s career ever since. That meant not seeing “Omega Station,” the 90-minute finale of True Detective‘s second season. I still haven’t seen it. I’ll watch it sometime later today or tonight, I guess, but as I mentioned last week I don’t really care that much. I know that Vince Vaughn and Colin Farrell went down and that Rachel McAdams ended up with a child (sired with Farrell) and — this is really strange — living in Venezuela with Kelly Reilly. I don’t have to see the finale to know this was an ignominious series and that Nic Pizzolatto is definitely a damaged brand. If I was Pizzolatto I wouldn’t drive out to the desert (i.e., the usual HE remedy when something hasn’t worked out) — I would fly to Italy and drive around for at least two or three weeks, just to be safe. If anyone feels like posting reactions to “Omega Station,” feel free. And if you haven’t gotten around to seeing it or saw it and don’t feel much of anything, I understand.