"I have no choice but to resume the lopping of heads and the drinking of blood," sighed Mama-Ji, a waitress at the Motel America with the understandable weariness of someone steeling themselves for the martial fuss of a franchise's second season. "That is, if I can swap my weekend shift." ... The problem with this opener was that there was too little blood-drinking and head-lopping and too much plotsplaining. There were even Feuerbachian meditations on whether gods are human projections of our needs. But if so, what do we need this shower for? "I mean, who ever needed a leprechaun," asked Laura at one point. Good question. But here's a bigger one. Does anyone really need American Gods to redeem us from the Sodom and Gomorrah that is 2019?