Oct 29, 2006 · 1 minute read
One of the good things about living in Britain is that we always get to smile a little condescendingly whenever Congress decides that it’s time to try and outlaw flag-burning. We chuckle at the silly Americans, knowing that our politicians would never do something as stupid as that.
Obviously, we have an unreported flag-burning epidemic in Britain.
In other, more website-y news, the photolog is moving over to Flickr. Exciting, I know.
Oct 29, 2006 · 1 minute read
I love these books. They remind me of being little, even if they weren’t in our house then (Sunday afternoons at granny’s house, that’s the memory).
(from Flickr stream)
Oct 26, 2006 · 1 minute read
Because I'm still off work and getting annoyed with myself for being so. Hopefully, Mr. Doctor will help tomorrow.
But! Three entertainment pieces ingested today. And three mini-reviews!
- Planetary #26
- Seven Soldiers #1
Simply stunning to look at; definitely one of the most beautifully designed comics I've ever read. However, it has to be said that Grant's attempt to create the comic equivalent of a Rubik's Cube means that it's not as straight-forward and entertaining as it could have been.
- The Wire: Season 4 Episode 13
There are few words. And indeed there must only be few, for I risk being battered to death if I reveal the ending of this series. Quite possibly the greatest American TV drama ever made. And if anything, I'm underselling it.
Oct 24, 2006 · 2 minute read
So, Torchwood. I’ll be watching it next Sunday, but I can’t quite shake off the feeling that if it wasn’t so intimately connected with Who, there’s no way I’d be back. And woe betide the series if John Barrowman leaves, as so far, it’s difficult to discern a whole character out of the supporting cast.
It might also be me, but RTD and the writer of the second episode seemed to get a little carried away, thinking more of “We can have swears and the sex! Hurrah!” without really resorting to thinking too deeply about things; the episodes came off more as juvenile rather than adult (and while I am willing to wait to see how things develop over the series, I won’t be happy if Owen gets away with the double-rape he commits in the first episode). Plot-holes, painful attempts to reconcile Gwen’s non-belief (yes, I’m sure that drugs in the water is a a perfectly good way of covering up having Cybermen in every home and a sizeable proportion of Earth’s population at the brink of suicide. Oh, and the destruction of Number 10 and Big Ben. Mmm, fluoride).
It was also quite unfortunate that the scenes involving the sex-crazed girl brought to mind Mitchell and Webb’s Sir Digby Chicken Caesar rather than desperation, but I can’t really blame them for that.
The subplots for the series appears to be twofold so far: why are the Weevils getting more jumpy than usual, and more interestingly, Who Is Captain Jack? We know why he’s immortal, we know how he was in 1940s Britain, but even so, we don’t know how he back from Space Station 5, or who he really is (and also the missing years he mentioned to Rose and The Doctor).
Not a patch on current American fare, but still better than most things you’ll find on Sunday night.
(But! Is it just me, or have the set designers nicked the door from Star Trek: DS9’s shuttle bays? And am I the geekiest person alive for even thinking it?)
Oct 23, 2006 · 1 minute read
More later when I can type without serious pain…
Oct 21, 2006 · 2 minute read
I’ve been watching some of The Prisoner in the last couple of days, after getting the series very cheap from Play. I’ve never actually seen it before, and while I still think the premise is fantastic, the series itself is a little lacking sometimes.
Part of the problem is that the order of the episodes makes no sense. In some stories, Six appears to have been in The Village for months, knowing his way around, but at others, deep into the series, it’s like he only arrived yesterday, meaning it’s difficult to get any idea of progress. This is partly because the original broadcast order of The Prisoner
is not the intended order of the series, but at the same time, there doesn’t appear to be any canonical order which solves the problem. Which is a pity, as with a prison breakout show like this, some degree of continuity would be nice (especially with the revolving Number 2s. one of whom makes his second appearance before he makes his first!).
Putting all that aside, it is mostly enjoyable; sometimes it strays too far into the realm of indulgence, but again, Six himself is woefully inconsistent. At times, he seems to have almost superhuman intellect, whereas at other times, he’s as thick as two short planks. Take the episode Many Happy Returns
, for example. Six wakes up to find The Village abandoned and derelict. Knowing a good thing when he sees it, he finds a cat and builds a boat, sailing off into the sunset. After decking a couple of German gunrunners and depending on the kindness of knock-off Romany gypsies, Six finds himself in London. Now considering that he used to be a spy, that after resigning from his job he was kidnapped and placed in The Village, you would think that he’d know that London isn’t safe for him. But no. Firstly, he goes back to his old house, where we discover that while he can resist all sorts of torture, Six is vulnerable to fruit cake and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Then, in a fit of stupidity, he goes back to his old workplace to try and track down The Village’s location. One guess as to what happens when they find it. After that, you do lose sympathy with him somewhat.
So far, then: deeply flawed, but I think it’s probably worth following it through to the very end, although I’m told that the final episode is almost complete gibberish.
Oct 17, 2006 · 1 minute read
Your instruction for today: head over to Sweeping The Nation to get hold of an impressive compilation themed around the Be My Baby drumbeat.
It’s my own fault for having my similar playlist sitting in iTunes for over a year but not doing anything with it. I even had an idea for a cover! Not that I can remember it now, mind you.
Oct 16, 2006 · 1 minute read
Normally, the bus ride to and from work is a rather uneventful affair. A sleepy climb up the stairs in the morning before finding an empty seat to sleep in; while on the way home, a scramble to find an available seat and a chance to catch up on reading. All is quiet.
Today, though, was slightly different. Our driver, ahead of schedule, and annoyed at several different traffic infractions by cyclists, decided to pull over in the Kidlington layby and hold court. For about ten minutes. We learnt that bus drivers really don’t like being told they’re late by people fiddling with their change, nor people having conversations while they’re trying to find their tickets. This was greeted with somewhat nervous laughter by the bottom floor of the bus, on the grounds that he’s the one driving a rather large double-decker bus, and if he wants to flip out and go all Michael-Douglas-in-Falling-Down
on us, then we’re not long for this world. Especially with the bridge we still had to cross.
A rather nervous ride back, then. Taken at some speed. Mind you, I had forgotten to bring a new book with me today, so I would have been bored otherwise…