mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

What do we want? When do we want it? (rant warning)


Saturday: the Farscape rally. Or rather, tea for two. I did my civic duty and took the three hour bus journey out to Maroubra (they'd have gotten a much better turnout if they'd chosen Parra, but Easties, what can you do?) for the Save Farscape gathering. About 50 people turned up (including Mario who didn't thank me for posting the pic of him YMCA-ing on the Net) which was rather sad but at least Australia managed to field slightly more Farscape fans than Afghanistan, which apparently managed 21 at their anti-cancellation rally. I met new people, and people I'd met in passing before, and discovered we're all taping Water Rats for a certain someone J, got sunburnt and windswept. At least I got to spend a day within view of a beach, though we were so far back we might as well have picnicked at Parra park. There was the funny bit where we got onto Stargate, the enemy now - I mean I'm a fan, but a season 7 without Jack or Daniel? Purlease. Anyway, somehow we started talking about what if Apophis had whipped off that skull cap to reveal an afro of impressive dimensions. "Jaffa! Kree!" (Sounds of sniggering Jaffas being fried for the insolence). Hey, it was very funny at the time. Guess you had to be there.

You know you're writing too much or too little slash when the bus rolls past a bathroom accessories store and you start mentally measuring the mighty tub on display in the front window for acquatic acrobatic ability.

The best part of my day were the two hours I spent in my favourite little haven, discussing all manner of things: life, death and Krypto the superdog. Oh, fuck, how I've missed that. I needed it. It makes me feel like me again.

X Files: Ah, shame about Reyes and Doggett. They have the most sizzling screen chemistry I've seen in a good long while. If I was one of the actor's partners, I'd be worried, so steamy is it. I'm enjoying the X Files. Maybe because people have so rubbished it while talking up other shows that I thought were complete cat's piss ::cough:once more with feeling:cough:: Maybe it's because bad X Files is still better than 90% of the tv out there.

Sunday: I spend the day not doing what I'm supposed to. Not that I spend it doing what I want to do, but at least I'm not doing anything other people want me to do. Instead I end up watching Toy Story 2 on the Disney channel, after the noisey neighbours several houses down have scared me indoors again, and loving every minute of it. I don't think I've laughed like that in years, abosulte years. Well except when I managed to get of the spag hanging off the clothsline when I meant to throw it out to the birds. That was hysterical for the few seconds before my arse was grass.

Me and Mrs Jones: After several years of living Robson free there's a sudden glut. Of course I know Robson has been doing the business on his side of the pond, but none of it has reached these blighted shores, until now. This wasn't bad, and there was a brief moment of Dave Tucker which amused. File under light weight comedy roles. Interesting cast. Isn't that Phillip Quast, and there's Peter Firth, whom I last saw suffering a fatal dose of lead poisoning in Magnificent Seven, of all things. Phillip's native accent slipped out, I noticed, when he was playing at being drunk. It amused me, and I suddenly wondered if the character was meant to be Australian, or can PQ, like so many Oz actors, only play drunk with an Australian accent. What does this say about my fellow countrymen? J

Now I'm watching a show on hinduism. They're visiting Ghurkas right now. Reminds me of that old WWII joke: how do you know the Ghurkas have been past? Try nodding your head. Dad used to have a big ol ghurka knife, fuck knows where it is now. Gone, most probably. Mother disposed unceremoniously of all Dad's cool stuff (except the Tunisian hooka, I salvaged that). She's just one of those people who never attach any sacred meaning to objects. Nor a monetary value, apparently. I'm still boiling over the $500 flexi disc she destroyed many years ago, and then there's the Han Solo figure in its original box. She chucked that, too. Coulda bought mself a week in Rome on that. Mutter, mumble, gripe, whine, whimper.

Monday: I have to tape more Magnificent Seven for a mate oveseas. Oh, the pain, the pain...

The Trial: Nathan episode, blah blah. Ezra B Plot. Yay. Once again Ezra sufers the machinations of his sociopathic mother. Poor lil Ezra. Nathan gets in a few good kicks at Ezra too, my poor baby.

Chinatown: Ezra episode. Happiness. This is the one where a friend, criminally unversed in Clint Eastwood, accused Chris of wearing his blankie out and about in public (did she not get it when Xander dressed up as Clint either?). Poor Michael Biehn, doing his very best Man With No Name, and all he gets is mockery. MB is being so Clint it'd be giggleworthy if it wasn't really working for me. A guy tries to sell Ezra a girl. Oh boy, have you got the wrong member of the Seven. Ezra is his usual indifferent self. Meanwhile there's a guy wandering about doing his best Rooster Coburn impersonation. Yes, they're law abiding Western makers and it's fun to check off the clichés. Sadly, M7 was the first western I didn't watch with my Daddy. Josiah is propositioning guys in Chinese and JD is flirting with Buck. Oh dear. At least we now know the water hole is the local spot. Heh, everytime Chris goes for his guns it means only one thing: crotch shot! Heh, I am so pathetic, but, ooh, lookit, he just went for his guns again. Tee hee.

Achilles: Ezra looses his shirt and everything else. Heh. Vin writes really dire poetry, really , really dire and that, according to the credits, was written by Dale. Stick to yer day job, ale. Yeesh. Lotsa Buck/JD but lets no go there, shall we. And an ad for Now and Again. M7 is only halfway through season two on these tapes and they're already showing ads for EC's next project. This would have boded no good had I been the fan taping these eps off CBS at the time. Though this fan needs to learn the proper use of the tracking button. What is it with Yanks and their complete and utter inability to use the tracking button? They want to rule the world but they can't master the tracking button? Oh boy, we, the rest of the world, are in deep trouble: we've been conquered by dumbfucks. There's a joke going around that to get rid of the Yanks, all we have to do is start removing all the warning labels off things. Heh heh heh. I miss Bill. Everyone misses Bill. Certainly Tony misses Bill. As Peter Ustinov says, if the American people are happy with Bush, then Clinton was a president of uncalled for excellence.

Ladykillers: Much Vin/Ezra cuteness. So much so that this was the episode that launced my M7 spoap, which I am desperately trying to type up at present.

Penance: The serial killer episode. Lots of cute Buck/Ezra. Yes, it pushed that plot along. Cute to note that Ezra was the only one to spot the tranny. Takes one to know one, I guess. At least the tranny wasn't the serial killer this time. No, they went with Cliché B, the investigating nutjob detective.

Homicide: Life on The Streets: whee - I actually get to watch it this time, live as it's broadcasted, and what an episode. Timmy!!!! I'm thinking Timmy ain't getting out of the well. I've never seen these episodes so even though they're at least 5 years old - don't spoil me!

Speaking of Homicide, Bro and I both note that the DC sniper is straight out of an episode of Homicide. Has anyone else noticed yet? And why are the French so upset over their ship getting sunk? Don't they realise that imitation is the sincerest flattery? (qv Rainbow Warrior).

Roswell: It's funny. EvilCh9 went on rcord several times over stating how they would never never ever ever hold my breath til my face turns blue ever ever buy or play the third season of Roswell. But after Roswell started up on Fox8, and presumably rated, guess what's on 9 next week? Actually, a lot of shows 9 and 7 have previously trashed, axed or moved to the exciting new time of 2 am but were resurrected on Foxtel are having their subesquent seasons screened in prime time and even, ye gods, promoted in the tv guides. Good grief. At least I've got a chance of seeing "So I Married An Alien" because I really, really, really wanted to see that one. Weirdly, I have Buddha Boy dreams for the few hours I'm asleep.

Band of Brothers: The credits only take half as long to go through now that we're seven episodes in, and this episode decimates the ranks even further. Good thing I avoided watching Blackadder Goes Forth - because there are too many war movie clichés not to giggle at times, seeing as how they're such law abiding war film makers. But this episode really sucked me in and I was starting to get as shell shocked as the guys. It really helps you already have PTSD before you start watching J One of my Great Uncles died of shell shock in the Great War. It becomes less and less giggleworthy as I watch and get caught up in these character's lives. Less Damian, but Colin Hanks next week, I note.


  • Windows to the Universe Art Archive

  • Classical Period

  • Hellenistic Greek Sculpture
  • Satyrs
  • Research limps along

  • Australian museum
  • This Nobel's a bit of fluff

  • It's lost a little hoist, but you can still take a Hills for a spin

  • Don't rebuff the boys in the buff
  • Temple where kung fu began will fight to protect trademark
  • Nothing can leg it around Mars like a cockroach

  • Captain Cook's new mate

  • Empire, with all its shades, strikes back

  • Mystery of 13 sabotaged parachutes rattles marines

  • Oil has always been top of Bush's foreign-policy agenda

  • No hiding place when the bombing begins
  • McDermott accuses Bush of plotting to be emperor

  • Chicago companies must reveal past ties to slave trade or risk losing business

  • Jude Law daughter in ecstasy scare

  • Cow comes in from the cold

  • Concern at 'secret' GM crops disposal

  • It's the Forsytes, Reduxing Again
  • We're having a heatwave, a tropical heatwave...ie no air conditioning again today. I'm in a big glass box on a scorching hot day (scorchio!) out in the plains and there's no air conditioning. I demand two large glistening Nubian dudes to waft palm fronds over my person, pronto.


     

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