On Sunday, Game of Thrones will wrap up its second season of fantastical, filthy-soldier-bifurcating action. In less than two weeks, there will be no more opportunities for Mad Men to expose how unhealthily invested we are in its characters' ongoing spiritual prostitution. Veep and Girls both are perched at the edge of the precipice of hiatus. The mighty, if creaky, Idol machine has ground to a halt, giving way to the tired, nonsensical celebriwarbling of Duets. Summer is coming.