Politics, debate and scandal. Oh my! It was indeed a mighty interesting fortnight’s viewing in the McDermott household. With the Sochi Winter Olympics up and skiing, and the debate surrounding homophobia raging here, Channel 4’s Hunted constituted must-see TV. It was even referenced in the Dáil by TD Clare Daly.

The wide-ranging documentary examined homophobia in Russia, and gave a disturbing insight into hate groups such as Occupy Paedophilia, a large vigilante organisation dedicated to “hunting down” gays. The documentary exposed the organisation, which does Putin proud by using “homosexuality” and “paedophilia” interchangeably. Devastating viewing, Hunted also provided insightful cultural context, examining Putin’s sudden focus on anti-LGBT propaganda.

“Right now," pro-LGBT activist Katya Bogatch said, "it suits the State and the regime to organise this witch-hunt because our economic situation, our pensions, our salaries, our healthcare and our education are all getting worse. Understandably people need someone to blame. To stop people from focusing their anger at the authorities, the regime is igniting and maintaining this conflict and hatred. They are making people fight amongst themselves.”

Given the political situation in Russia, the decision to take in the opening ceremony for the Winter Olympics in Sochi became an ethical dilemma: would watching constitute complicity in Russia’s homophobic policies? Online, people pointed out the ludicrous hypocrisy of having TATU perform. At one point, five huge, brightly lit snowflakes emerged over the stadium, slowly opening into the five Olympic rings – no, wait, four. A technical glitch left one snowflake closed. Russia’s televised coverage swiftly concealed the mistake by cutting to footage from the rehearsal. That’s some terrifying Orwellian editing, right there.

From Russian politics to American. Season two of Netflix’s award-winning original series House Of Cards debuted on Friday, and is ready and waiting for your bingeing pleasure. While I wouldn’t dream of providing spoilers – mainly because I wouldn’t be surprised if Netflix PR reps have snipers enforcing their strict embargos – fans of the show will not be disappointed. Kevin Spacey’s deliciously corrupt congressman Francis Underwood has wheedled his way up the political ladder, so that the Presidency is mere inches away.

While later episodes of Season 1 started moving away from the fourth wall-breaking soliloquies that were so loved in the original BBC series, Season 2’s first few dispatches see these personal insights return. Spacey’s manipulative monologues not only provide storyline reminders for viewers, but ensure that the increasingly obsessive ambitions of this modern day Macbeth are clear. And his Lady Macbeth wife Claire (Robin Wright) is getting her own dramatic arc too, elevating her role beyond mere wife and pawn.

The show has cast some real DC journalists, further blurring the divide between fiction and dramatisation. It also exudes its own form of political manipulation: featured outlets may be more inclined to give the show coverage. Oh, Underwood would be proud.