"I don't care what they say about you, Veronica Mars. You rock."
"Yes I do. I also take cash."
To reduce her to words is to do her an injustice.
Eloquent men and women are reduced to quivering puddles of hero-worship when confronted with her. (Actually, that's probably just us.) Torrents of adjectives pour from their mouths: "fierce," "strong," "vulnerable," "brilliant," "sarcastic," "mercilessly, scandalously hot," and evaporate into insignificance when applied to her.
So here's what we will say: girlfriend uses an awesome conditioner, and we'd love to get our hands on it.
Oh, all right.
Veronica Mars led a charmed enough life before the murder of her best friend Lilly Kane. Her friends liked her, her boyfriend loved her, and her mother made her breakfast in the mornings. One day, her erstwhile dear Duncan Kane dumped her without explanation. (Seriously, dude hardly bothered to tell her in so many words.) Before she'd finished reeling from that slap, Lilly's murder smashed her across the face and her mother's escape knocked her breathless to the ground. Then her own date rape came by, kicked her a few times in the stomach, and left her sobbing in the gutter.
A lesser mortal might have been content to remain in the gutter and let life do what it would with her. Veronica Mars chose to pick herself up, cut her hair, renew her soul, and emerge as the ass-kicking private detective action figure we see today. A protector of the weak, an ally of the strong, a ruthless dealmaker, a troubled crusader in a corrupt world. And as thoroughly, painfully human as she's ever been, and will continue to be as life thrashes fiercely in her grip.
Kristen Bell plays Veronica Mars.
Email me your comments, suggestions at nirjhar.jain+mars@gmail.com