reading:
John Bowe (ed): Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs
Gail Simone: Birds of Prey
Sarah Vowell: Take the Cannoli
Howard Zinn: People's History of the U.S.
Believe me, it's true. I'm so behind. By 9 PM tonight I'll have:
Half of this week's Heroes
Studio 60
Two hours of Jericho
Veronica Mars
Torchwood
And the various bits of TiNo'ed flotsam and jetsum that pile up. (Oh, Standoff, even dating one of your PAs doesn't make you compelling.)
All of this is television I can pretty much live without, but keep up with out of academic interest. Like Jericho, the little apocalypse show that really, really couldn't. As soon as The Only Black Man in Kansas reveals all his secrets, Jericho and I will have to reevaluate, but of course this just means that TOBMIK will keep on with his infuriating innuendo ways. Damn him and his mysteries! Damn him!
A Herculean effort on Sunday brought me up to date with BSG, which is just so solid a show, I can't even handle it. And I'm excited about The Office, like any right-minded person. But these are the only shows that are really satisfying right now; as I said last week, everything else is watched with reservations. I've posited the notion that Heroes and Studio 60 are the perfect team-up, because one of them has an extremely engaging and complex plot, but terrible writing, and the other has great writing, but nothing interesting going on upstairs. Not that I think that Sorkin writing Heroes is the solution to the problem. It's just rare to see such an elegant example of ying and yang in network scheduling.
I am looking forward to watching Mars tonight, but this season has been so uneven that I have some concerns. I don't know if I've heard whether it's gotten picked up for the full season, though I recall the ratings being pretty solid. Anyone know?
Wow, hey, rambling about television! It's like I'm a real blogger again! Well, baby steps.
Donny: Hey man, you see a box of rubber gloves around here? Mirror Man: Gloves? Man, you don't need no gloves! Stick out that big claw you call a hand. [He spreads adhesive onto Donny's fingertip] Mirror Man: It ain't donut jelly, so don't eat it. [He applies the false fingerprint] Mirror Man: All new fingerprints. Elvis is back. Donny: Damn... Mirror Man: Boy got skills, right? Donny: You're like a little ghetto Smurf!
Did Stoppard do a draft on this movie? I bet it was Stoppard.
I mean, it's fascinating. Separated from performance, you get a chance to appreciate the words for their own merits. Savor the flow of discourse. It takes your understanding of the dialogue to a whole new level.
Memphis: The ladies are dirty. Walk away. The ladies are dirty.
(I may have to delete my Eccleston Tivo wishlist.)
There is nothing like employment, active indispensable employment, for relieving sorrow, according to Jane Austen, and after three weeks back on the temping train, I can see her point. This new job is fairly monotonous, with lots of little projects that I've been learning to do with some amount of success. Most of them involve playing with tape, scissors, highlighters, paperclips, and a manual typewriter; there is something deeply satisfying about the whole exercise.
There is also something deeply satisfying about taking an hour for lunch with my laptop, sitting outside and writing, and then going home at 6 on the button. I'll do this until I go crazy and/or I've built up some savings; it's not a bad life necessarily. It also gets me out of the house and makes me feel useful and productive. These were qualities lacking in September and October. But, hey, better now. Getting on track with things, working on stuff, and still making time for the good stuff. Like people! I remember them. People are nice.
There are, I'm certain, some interesting things I could talk about. I could talk about television [wherein every single show I'm currently watching is deeply disappointing in a fundamental way, (except for The Office)], or how my running milage is improving, or how I'm looking forward to a weekend of books, haircuts, boys, knitting, British TV, and playwriting.