But that's just me, and perhaps I have too much Bad Sam in the ol' dvd collection.
There should be a special circle in Hell devoted to those who folks who never change bog rolls, just leaving an empty tube of cardboard there, all failed promise and no use. Ditto those who return the milk to the fridge with 3ml or less rolling about the bottom, and those who leave just one tissue in the box, and it's always when you've got a 16 tissue calamity.
That said, it's a Monday. Take that as you will.
No scans today as I had another violent slapping over on the Life on Mars pages. I hadn't even been posting, so I was blindsided by a severe slapping over an old post. Why and how a show like LoM can attract such rude and agressive and completely thundering egotistical and most importantly of all: completely humourless byotches is beyond me, but there it is. It was the same in Due South, I do recall bitterly, the scars still itch in cold weather. It's probably the very same twats, though the way she started out calling me stupid and wrong and childish from the get go made me think it was a very, very ex-friend under a pseud. If so, get a life and get off my cloud.
I mean, really, it's just a show, and a particularly daft one at that.
So, I wasn't in the mood to slave over a hot scanner all Sunday afternoon for the largely ungrateful masses. It was too hot anyway, and far too sticky - I run a risk of ending up transferring the ink to myself and ruining the hard copy if I handle it with hot and sweaty hands (and I'm talking climate, not subject matter here).
So it was a box set of The Sweeney and an expresso machine instead. And Special Branch, too, which I'm really enjoying this time around. Especially the second episode watched where a cranky GF walks in on an unattentive Craven to find him down on the carpet with Tom. "Look love," says Craven. "You knew the score, you're just the obligatory GF in a cop buddy show, to make me look het, so if you get a line, you're lucky, and if I spend all my time with Tom, well, tough. And we were down on the floor trying to find terroists using a tube map, not a quick game of nude twister, no matter what it looks like and never mind the wine glasses. Now get lost, you whining cow and don't let the door hit your arse on the way out."
Exunt, one handbag. Tom and Craven, having warmed remarkably since their first episode (and Tom broke up Craven's first marriage!) gaze at each other across a very 1973 flat...
Okay, I know I absolutely shouldn't but the scene was so very amusing and tres slashy. More alarming were The New Avengers, where the lads drop off Purdey, and then Steed invites Gambit for a nightcap and before I can scream "Noooooo!", there's Gambit handing Steed a pair of PJs for his sleepover, and if that isn't horrifying enough, there's Gambit's flat. Lime green. Lime green! LIME GREEN!!!
The rest of the episode was an amusing bit of typical Brian frippery, with the whole of London being put to sleep on a Sunday morning (for the purposes of larceny). Nobody would notice, from my own experience, so I was bemused. The most fun was trying to figure out where they were on the map from the locations and street signs, often fake. Another road map plot.
Mind you, I should mention that Special Branch contained a very rational explantions of the terrorists and their motives, grievances and desired outcomes, and it was very much the sort of carefully reasoned discussion you just never hear on tv these days. Sadly, tv was a lot more adult and educated in the 70s than it is today. It was very much your standard Profs plot, ie diplomat's daughter gets kidnapped, but a lot less silly, and I did like the bit where Craven is told not to bother trying to racially profile because the extremists will have gone to ground in the community and they will have tried to blend in. I just found it interesting that Special Branch had a much more intelligent take on the topic than later shows. Bonus cameo by Liz Sladen (aka SJS) as a WPC. It also revolved around a Ford Cortina. Yay.
They also had a bigger budget than Life on Mars. Not a satellite dish or anarchonistic car or rego plate to be seen :)
The Sweeney. My god, it was very, very Life on Mars, and I know I shouldn't think like that, but when the episode starts with the old gold Granada chasing a Jag, smashing through cardboard boxes, roaring down lanes and spinning around in empty lots, well, it was very, very Life on Mars. The episode was Stoppo Driver, always one of my faves, and well worth a look if you've not seen it. Certainly the LOM peeps have this episode. Lots of classic scenes and bonus Beech from The Bill.
I noticed Jack was reading a newspaper with the headline "Jumping Jeremy!" and I wondered who Jeremy was. Jeremy Thorpe, as it happens, and it scares me that the peanut gallery knows these things. Apparently Jumping Jeremy was a Liberal MP who was later done for trying to hire a hit man to off his ex gay lover. Never a dull moment with British politics, eh? I never imagined that headline would lead to such an interesting sideline.
Meanwhile, we couldn't place one of the actresses, but a quick check online tells us she's been in most of the stuff we watch (Avengers, Man in a Suitcase) and Upstairs Downstairs. We nod.
There was also The Saint. A very silly yet entirely fabulous and 60s Welsh set episode that led to a lot giggling and lines like "I'm the only giant ant in the vil-lage." Yep, giant ants. Roaming about the Welsh countryside, terrorising lone shepherds, the odd Aussie (Annette) and a pub full of wildly caricatured locals all insisting it must be the work of werewolves, vampires or them mad scientists in the big house up on the hill. *Love*.
I did but see her passing by. I just stepped out for errands and there were police and cordons and women of a certain age everywhere. The hell? No, just HRH. I bet she just loves stinky hot dusty little colonies like this.
I ended up in the park. Nearly finished, but I won't publish it to any list, this, because I know nobody's going to like it, but it has to work itself out before I can start on more acceptable fic. It's a bit dark, but it's mainly the angsty, self pitying and completely mad Sam I thik they'll object to. Yeah, I know, another utter nutter for me. As much as I used to bag Marti Noxon for working out her bad boyfriend issues on screen, I am just as bad (though not being paid for it, a small distinction). Alas, they say to write what you know, and I don't know any stifflingly sane people.
Folks I've known and loved have always been crazy. I know I'm not Little Miss Stable myself, but it's hard to tell what's nature and what's nuture (crazy is catching, afterall). I do know, though, through bitter experience, that as much as you love them, wrangling a headcase is exhausting and unrelenting and you can't let your concentration slip for one second, or they'll do something stupid and dangerous and you'll never forgive yourself. And that's where Gene is now, torn between his love for Sam and his need to protect Sam, and should it come to it, protect everyone else from Sam. He didn't think he had to worry, until Sam pulled the gun.
Now, if only I can manage to get that down on paper, we're laughing. It's just real hard to try and write Gene trying to seriously talk Sam down. I mean, Gene, trying to be careful about what he says? It's a bit of a departure, innit?
Meanwhile, I've decided to cool it in trying to find more Simm interviews, as much as the archivist in me wants to. Simm hates giving interviews because he doesn't want his media image to colour his characters, and, right now, I don't think I want to read any more for much the same reason. At least not after the revelation that he once poked a Spice Girl. How that slipped my consciousness I do not know, but I suppose I just repressed it the way I completely repressed that horrid New Order footie song, until brutally confronted with it the other week. Then again, I did think he was the most annoying little oik around the time of Human Traffic so maybe it just didn't register.
So very glad he grew up. So very glad he plays Sam so well. But I think I'll just leave it at that for the moment (and some of his fans are complete twats, too).
But I still love him, dammit.
'When I cry on screen, those are real tears - that's how I cry.
John Simm's top tracks
Movie superstar fronts our latest red meat marketing campaign
Another meaty role for Sam
Sam Neill red meat's secret weapon
Sam Neill fronts meat campaign
Food fight: Sam takes on Missy
Classic car sales are out of this world!
An artist for all seasons
Success: for me it stinks
A Writer's Story of Rage, Lust and Oranges (Colin)
Violence too seductive
The West Wing's final curtain call
Bono's Sydney sojourn
Blood on the red carpet
Brokeback wives find solace in cowboy tearjerker
Lee hails Ledger's performance a 'miracle'
Let's All Get ADD!
The Awful Truth
Midge, Ure in line for great big honour from university
Depp's 'Libertine' is a repulsive lesson in history
Watch Morrissey's You Have Killed Me video
Scandal minister Profumo dies at 91
The Lazarus Effect: rodent 'missing' for 11 million years is discovered in Laos
The Vendetta Behind 'V for Vendetta'
Afghanistan fast losing its treasures to looters
U2 forced to delay concerts
Policing in the United Kingdom
UK-US heterologues A-Z
War of the Worlds: Hollywood Opts Out of the 'Google Economy'
Best... Flickr... Toy... EVER!
Turn On. Tune In. Take Over. (Firefly)
Neither the Power Nor the Glory
The new Spy vs Spy
BOING BOING'S GUIDE TO DEFEATING CENSORWARE
Technical ways to get around censorship