![]() Too clever for their own good, the two parlayed lucrative screenwriting careers and the confidence of the suits at HBO into a demanding new life spent poring over dense books filled with another man’s fantastical writing and rearranging the chairs in someone else’s council room. Most often, though, Benioff and Weiss remind me of Tyrion. Martin, the revered lord whose army they’ve inherited, isn’t conveniently dead, like Robb’s dad, but rather is very much alive, standing over their shoulders, judgmentally stroking his beard. Adding to their challenge is the fact that George R.R. ![]() (Benioff attended Dartmouth, known primarily for producing many wealthy Masters of Coin Weiss graduated from Wesleyan, where the banners are made of hemp, and the bannermen are full of it, as well.) Yet like Robb Stark, they also know the pain and burden of undue expectations: There’s a teeming mass of aggrieved nerds and Northerners following their every move, alternating between loyalty and skepticism. The showrunning duo, like Jaime Lannister, know plenty of fancy words and are the product of some of the finest universities on the continent. Settle down, angry book-brandishing knights, and consider, if you will, the strange circumstance of Maesters Benioff and Weiss. ![]()
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