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That is just...it does my head in, so it does. I think it's my favourite free form poem, ever.
And is it just so the stuff I had to read at school. And you wonder why I'm so poetry adverse these days. Negative reinforcement, I say. Trundle: peach. OMG, insert overintellectual flailing wankfest of presumed meaning of both text and subtext here.
The sun is still shining. I be so happy on account of my wee magazine arriving. Very silly, but there it is. Besides, Simm is teh sex.
Mind you, he claims he's dressing like a grown up now, but I think he's dressing like Doctor Who:
One of these guys travels time in a police box, the other thinks he's a time travelling policeman, but which is which?
Lazy weekend, I must report (aside from the late night PC session for which I currently suffer so, but you did like those piccies, did you not?). Had Friday off sick, as everyone else had gone down with my dreaded lurgy and I became slightly more convinced that the awfulness was not all in my head (later to be all over the loo - ewww).
Friday involved, tea and telly, Daniel Craig in Archangel to be precise. Not exactly a Bond audition as he plays a self absorbed academic in way over his head, but he'll do. He'll do. I actually enjoyed it lots. Pretty Daniel, running about in the snow. The plot was preposterous (and right of of Saturday's Saint), but the scenery was very pretty, the production values cinematic.
Saturday was more tea and telly, this time Doctor Who. Have you heard the Barrowman commentaries yet? Oh, you must. Hysterical, and very, very gay. Funniest commentaries I've ever heard, actually. I was damn nearly snorting tea, and I certainly can't watch those episodes again. At least not with a, ahem, straight face.
Saturday also meant time for an indulgence in Special Branch. Real 1973 tv coppers. It's really quite good, and aside from evil hippies, stands the test of time remarkably well. I mean, it's not as if plots about terrorism or extortion and corruption are ever going to fall from fashion, are they? Some of the policing and attitudes are quaint, it must be said, but overall, these are decent cops doing the best they can.
It's well written (one of the plots reminded me so strongly of State of Play I had to get it out and watch it again), with high production values (for the time) and decently acted. In fact it's a never ending game of "that guy". And if that doesn't rock your world, you can always point and laugh at the curtains and wallpaper.
TV cops, circa 1973
With obligatory gold car (that's not a satellite dish behind them, surely - snerk)
Tv cop shop interior, 1973
Tits on a wall
I had to include those last two because the entire episode was actually blocked for boobies. You might think that there's just a fleeting glimpse of the page three lasses, but you'd be wrong. At several points during the episode Inspector Exposition and his mate Constable Plot-Dump stand in front of the work (ink on paper, artist unknown, 1973) and deliver wads and wads of plot, which just meant the peanut gallery was sitting there errupting with "Boobies!" over and over like Chris on Family Guy. Okay, so you had to be there, but trust me, on dvd on a widescreen tv we're talking full frontal wall art here. And it was fine in 1973.
How times change. They can't show clips from shows I watched as a small child these days, on account of the casual nudity.
Anyway, the show is also scarily old school slashy, which makes me cover my eyes at times.
And speaking of old school slash: Dalziel and Pascoe. There was a long article on D&P in one of the Sunday papers (sadly not online so no link) where they mentioned how often cop shows are supposed to be about the young modern sensitive new age copper being forced to work with an unreconstructed dinosaur, and how the old copper always takes over the show and gets the best lines (but they never mention The Sweeney, Streets of San Francisco or, indeed, Life on Mars).
They've been repeating D&P on UKTV, which I've been enjoying as it's episodes I'd missed half of, being on holidays when they'd screened here, and now some new episodes are coming onto the ABC. How actually new I couldn't say, as episodes I caught last year in the UK have not yet screened here, but in any case, the first episode has poor Peter in a coma after a car crash, and, I'm so sorry, but I just can't help but not wonder which decade poor Peter has ended up in. Anyway, the episode is supposed to feature much hand wringing from the Fat Controller. Hence the old school slash. I try, I try so hard not to see D&P slash, but then they had that season where the lads actually shacked up together, good grief. Heh. Imagine if the missus chucked Gene out and he had to shack up with Sam? Season two, si vous plais.
Anyway, thoroughly enjoying my D&P, homo-erotic bonding in Yorkshire pubs or no. Ended up with three hours of Warren Clarke, which surely tested my limits, as he turned up in The Sweeney as well. The Saint had some bloke from Skippy (but not Ed this time) and The New Avengers managed cast from New Tricks and Blakes Seven, as well as some guest actor whom I spotted in The Sweeney and Special Branch as well.
And there was State of Play watching. Another John and Phil show, and how much fun is it? Throw in James McAvoy (fawning over the faun), David Morrisey, Marc Warren and Bill Nighy and I'm in heaven. Cracking plot too, (even if it does remind me of that Special Branch episode), John being uppity and snippy, and naked, on occasion, and Phil being a good copper in over his head. I love it when those two go head to head. It's classic. It's proto Sam and Gene. It's marvellous.
Oh yeah, at least tiredness has given me two more Life on Mars fics to write. One is quite nasty. Heh. I'm pretty sure I'm channnelling one of the many, many cop shows I've watched in the last month, but even so, I'm going to write it anyway. Time willing. I hate that. So many ideas, so little time. I'm going to cool it on the capping anyway. Let someone else take the wheel.
Speaking of Brit Cops, UKTV is playing a mega murder marathon over the Easter break, and if I'm not working I'll be planted in front of the tv. Here's hoping some cool gust stars pop up :)
Watched Supernatural on Monday. Nice touch about giving the scarecrow Norse connections, but I'm afraid I got there a good twenty minutes ahead of the boys. Took me a while to realise the familiar sherriff was last seen in the wonderfuly tacky Lost World.
Work is insane. It's a re-election circus so it's like West Wing meets MASH. I've been called snippy and snotty (Moi? Well, you try cramming screencapping into my schedule) but I did just spend $25 on a box of cakes. Surely there are some creds there.
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