That's pretty much it. I should have woken up properly when my recorder clicked on and started whirring away: there's a nightly Phil fest on UKTV, being a Vanity Fair and Clocking Off double. Hopefully the beast is recording it. I really should check and not trust in my thus far neglible skills in setting the programme. (I would be more concerned but I have VF and S1 CO on dvd anyways, so this is a dummy run).
Wonderful conversations re Sam and Gene, still. Lots of stuff re their relationship, Sam's multifaceted versions of reality, possible myth archetypes (Lugh was mentioned for Gene, and it fits quite wonderfully), how it could all be wee Sam's dream (Sam behaves very childishly at times, strops especially, and all of his tv etc hallucinations are childish: sock puppets, Basil Brush, his mum, his cat, santa, etc). How Ruth should recognise her son in Sam, how Vic might have. How Gene's surprising sympathy and lack of disgust for Warren might hint at a certain understanding. How Gene is the full on king/sheriff/protector of his city. Gene's relations with his superiors, how his career might have peaked, and how dangerous it was for Sam to bring himself to the attention of the sinister old Mason, Superintendent Rathbone, especially since Sam has been the one upsetting the status quo. How Gene notices Sam's trips into the ether, but says very little. How Gebe is always mentioning that Sam is where he is by choice. Sam's curious innocence and lack of experience of old style cops. Gene's many skills as a leader of men. Gene's mythic love for his city. Sam's near spiritual vocation. Sam swinging wildly between treating everything as real or a dream. Gene's honesty. Sam's 90s style ironic detachment. Petnames. Calling each other by name. Their personal relationship as well as their professional one. The clash of ideas and cultures. The way they circle around each other and challenge each other. The way Gene keeps Sam in line or protects him or tries to snap him out of it. Sam's waspishness and cheekiness. The sizzling on screen chemistry. You know, the usual.
Phew! I am full of Skippy. Just had a big barbie for NAIDOC week, hobnobbing with the mandarins. (Yesterday the Guv'nor said two words to me. I did not understand either of them). Oh boy, that roo was sizzled to perfection (by Traditional colleagues). Yes, we eat our coat of arms. They're delicious. Especially with barbeque sauce. Burp.
Still, a bbq at work is fun and different and it was nice to say hi to folks I rarely ever see these days (we get moved around so much).
Oh, the currawongs are calling again. Different dialect to my ones at home. Did I mention Tubby is back? I walked out the door on the weekend and this bird damn nearly lands on me and I thought who is this overly familiar currawong? Oh, it's my familiar, I realised, recognising him a second later. He's slimmed down in his travels (he's been gone six months), but still with the same haughty expression and in-turned foot. Yip, a pidgeon-toed currawong. Heh.
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