If last week’s Downton Abbey was all about the initial power war has to upset the social order, this week’s episode was about the lingering power of institutions, whether the idea that a man headed off to war is entitled to a sweetheart; the sororicidal battles between women for position; or the ability of the servant class to conduct intense power struggles entirely beyond the notice of their employers. It’s fitting, given that theme, that it seems we’re locked into some old plots this week, as Thomas returns to cause all sorts of trouble at Downton, but with increased capacity to sow dissension now that he can play Cora and Isobel off against each other; Mr. Bates and Anna seem locked in a stalemate by his iron and the pace of English legal proceedings; and Sybil and Branson have trouble understanding each other.

It was awful to see Daisy trapped this week, forced into accepting William’s proposal by Mrs. Patmore’s theories of troop morale, forced by William into announcing their engagement prematurely, and then told by Mrs. Harris that she should stay downstairs because “No, Daisy. Not you. The war has not changed everything.” There’s no question that Daisy is safer at Downton than she might be under other circumstances, but the very things that keep her safe and provided for also keep her trapped. It never occurs to anyone that Daisy might have a mind of her own — in fact, Thomas and O’Brien’s machinations against Mr. Bates last season depended on the idea that her head could be sown with any idea no matter how ludicrous. There’s a real sadness in that belief that could morph into a ruined life if William survives, and Daisy is railroaded into marrying him against her desires.

She’s not the only woman torn between her heart and norms, enforced by both law and society, that govern the behavior of women. When Anna finds Mr. Bates, she’s relieved to find out he’s found grounds for a divorce, but disconcerted by the revelation that “for her to divorce me, she needs something beyond adultery…for a husband, adultery is enough.” But when she ventures that that seems unjust, the force of Bates’ passion barrels past her bloom of a political opinion. “I don’t care about fairness,” Mr. Bates declares. “I care about you.” And he refuses to sleep with her, even when she points out “it’s not against the law to take a mistress, Mr. Bates.” Meanwhile, back at Downton, Ethel’s willingness to be sexually available gets her on Mrs. Hughes’ watch list, but it also lands her a date with a soldier that may put paid to her saucy talk.

While women are at subtle odds in those situations, they’re at outright war when it comes to the struggle between Isobel and Cora for control over Downton in its role as convalescent home, and Rosalind is trying to make a cold war hot by prodding Mary to slander Lavinia and break her engagement to Matthew. The first debate is exacerbated by Thomas, who’s returned to Downton determined to take Carson down a peg and with new power to manipulate the people upstairs. I have mixed feelings about Thomas’s manuverings here — the pilot this season suggested some real growth, so it’s disconcerting to see both him and O’Brien fall into old patterns. I hope there are longer games here that move both of them forward, or tragedies born of their limitations. But it’s fascinating to watch Isobel and Cora go at least other in conversations that come up to the very edge of civility. And of course it’s the civility that matters: one of Cora’s complaints is that Isobel has usurped her place with her servants. Cora has more social pull than Isobel does, while Isobel has more practical skills. It’s Edith, perhaps, who represents a way forward, combining Cora’s graces with Isobel’s unflinching desire to connect, even when it means confronting wounds like the amputation that took Captain Smiley’s hand (I am, for the record, considering him George’s father). Seeing the General call her out for her good deeds gave me hope that Edith will find her own way, a typically middle-child blending of Mary’s conventionality and Sybil’s rebellions.
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-Bridesmaids is going to be the most profitable movie Judd Apatow’s ever been involved with.

-Something else we can blame Michael Bay for: giving Tyrese Gibson PTSD.

-You Don’t Mess With the Zohan is surprisingly funny, also not in violation of copyright law.

-Rob Thomas, please stop torturing me with promises of a Party Down movie.

-I’d be much more excited for the new Mission Impossible movie if it was about Jeremy Renner and Simon Pegg teaming up to take down Tom Cruise:

Mac McClelland’s account of how she’s dealing with her post-traumatic stress disorder is powerful and important and warrants a close read. For me, some of the toughest things in it to read were on the larger professional context:

I realize now that I was undone. Journalists put themselves in threatening situations all the time, but they rarely talk about the emotional impact. It’s not easy to complain about the difficulties of being around trauma when you’ve chosen to be around trauma for a living, and it certainly isn’t cool. When CBS correspondent Lara Logan went public that she was raped in Egypt five months after I returned from Haiti, most people reacted with the appropriate amount of horror. Some, though, blamed the reporter for putting herself in a risky situation, and for being reckless enough to enter one when she’s so hot. No wonder it’s a rarity for correspondents to discuss their pain, and practically unheard of when it regards sexual harassment or assault. The handbook of the Committee to Protect Journalists didn’t even mention it—until 20 days ago, when the organization published an “addendum on sexual aggression.”

…

“Why don’t I get some real problems?” I asked her. The shocking lack of sympathy I got from some industry people I talked to about my breakdown was only compounding my concerns that I didn’t deserve to be this distraught. “Editors are going to think I’m a liability now. What kind of fucking pussy cries and pukes about getting almost hurt or having to watch bad things happen to other people?”

“Dude,” she said. “Marines.”

That the CPJ could just…not think to address that sexual assault is a form of harm journalists face in conflict zones or other dangerous situations says pretty much everything about the dominant assumptions about the kind of work women can do in journalism (and an odd myopia about the fact that men can get assaulted, too).

It also puts paid to the idea of journalistic objectivity — as did Greg Marinovich when I interviewed him earlier this year about working as a combat photographer. Maybe at some level, we can ask journalists to be detached, but for the big issues, we need folks who are able to draw conclusions about right and wrong from their reporting, and it’s insane to expect that people won’t be affected by the things they cover — we really need that, in fact. Journalism is a form of bearing witness, and part of supporting journalism is supporting people in going and seeing the things we can’t and bringing back moral testimony.