Meanwhile, I'm waiting for the "if you hate it so much, why are you watching" emails. None so far. I am disappointed. Love Sam, I do, and it's a testament to John's skills as an angsty thesp that he can make a character so unlikeable on paper so damn loveable on screen. I really do like Sam very much and I think he has many fine qualities. I just find the darkness that ripples beneath the surface intriguing. Sam is a messed up guy, whichever way you slice it, and that makes him fascinating. I suspect Gene agrees re the fascination.
Two interesting points raised elsewhere: that Gene was possibly more aware of what was going on in #8 than I give him credit for, and that policing is Sam's drug of choice.
To the first I say most definitely. I firmly believe that Annie went running to Gene and Gene listened and decided to play it his way. Gene likes to stand back and watch what Sam is going to do, it's been his MO for the entire season. Often times he'll have to step in, but he does like to hang back and wait and watch first. So I think it's entirely possible that he watched the Sam/Vic thing, and decided the best thing was to hose Sam down at the pub. Possibly. Part of me still thinks if Gene had caught up with them he wouldn't have let Vic walk away, unless he understood, really understood why Sam let him go. Which of course raises even more interesting possibilities. Like how much does Gene know, thinks he knows and how much of Sam's rambling does he believe?
The second is about policing as Sam's drug of choice. As pointed out to me, with all the possibilities open to Sam, he still turns up at the police station everyday. It is his life and his purpose, it's what he wants to do and what he derives the most satisfaction from. And Sam sacrifices a great many things to it, including, apparently, a personal life, and possibly his own life. Policing is all Sam knows how to do and all he wants to do. The only people he socialises with are colleagues. If ever there was a boy who needed a hobby...
Meanwhile I'm still fascinated with a Sam who went from ordering diet cokes to heavy binge drinking. Yes, he's traumatised, but still. I've thought about the good things the 70s could do to him in getting him to loosen up, but what about the bad things, especially as long boozy lunches and turning up to work hungover weren't as frowned upon then as now. Again, the rules that bound Sam are no longer there. Not that I expect Sam to crawl into a bottle, I'm just trying to illustrate what I see as the seductive lure of what was, in many ways, a more permissive society.
Never mind the seductive little devil on his shoulder that his Gene Hunt, always inviting Sam into the vices of the pub, gambling and bent money (not that these bother me in the slightest, I don't need my people straight), whispering to Sam that he really loves it there, deep down. Dear Gene, all ID, at least, in one interpretation. I personally think that Gene, thanks to Phil's fine work, is far more than that, oh man of many moods and layers.
Actually, it's interesting, that Gene one minute is telling Sam to accept that he is where he wants to be, but in another moment, encourages Sam to keep fighting.
And meanwhile, the meta is messing with me because whether I'm looking up Titus or Granny Smith, I keep coming up Field of Mars.
Oh, and thankyou to the friends who pitted the Rome dvds together in a "cage match". I prefer buying R2/R4 over R1 dvds because although all my stuff is NTSC able, there's always a small degree of not-rightness about it. The colour, sound and ratio are always that little bit off (much, much less so on my latest tv, but still there), but the R1 always has the most/coolest extras and, for a show I seriously dig enough to be ordering overseas for, that's a mighty big carrot.
I suppose I should say something about Titus, but sadly my thoughts are mainly refined to "I want to hold him, and pet him, and hug him, and squeeze him, and call him George". However last night I was still pissing vinegar over the lack of Titus, loud enough to startle a cat that was lurking outside. Being a destructo cat of course, he knocked over a chair and a pot plant in his flight.
The only thing that could cheer me up was the arrival of a much anticipated dvd. Oh yes, finally, my very own copies of The Bullshitters and Detectives on the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown. Oh, happy day. But, quandry: do I watch them, or keep enjoying the Profs for its innocent cheesy charms? I mean, once I watch them, well, that's the Profs done, really. I mean just last week when Ray was walking around sans shirt, oh, I very nearly went to the Bullshitters place. Heh. Will stroke and fondle dvd box though :)
And still on dvds, I braved the local shop to buy SG1 S9. Now I've only being buying posh stuff like Deadwood so as to not embarress myself, but no, this time I had to have it (still pissy over missing SG1 last week) and, well, geeks ahoy. So we chatted over SG, LOM and the like. Made my day.
Can't remember if I bought or rather re-bought SGA S1, though. I ordered it, and it was supposed to arrive while I was on hols, but it never did. And I can't remember if I went and bought it again. Dreadful, I know, but I've been BBC binging this year and if I bought it, it'll be shoved up the back, unwatched and unloved. Lately, I've just started watching the Gates again. Dunno, maybe because it's always shown over Summer I just associate it with Summer now, and start craving it like prawn salads and iced tea.
Btw, while I was out walking, a near faux paus. I nearly wore my pretty blue and bold skirt as it was going to be hot today (30C), but couldn't find a top to match in my mad morning scrabbling, and as I trotted up to the shops I walked past a woman wearing my skirt. Tsk. Once upon a time, nobody wore what I wore, but I think my
Last night there was a lot on telly to tempt me. There was Jericho, weirdly screening close to the US screening here, I suppose in a bid to beat the downloaders (thought you have to be keen with our "bandwidth"). But I watched my Sharpe, Revenge this time, which meant Alexis was in it, too. And do you know how long it took me to realise, as I flipped between Sharpe and Bones in the ad break, how disturbingly long it took me to realise I was watching Wes, then Angel, then Wes, then Angel...seems I'm getting a bit nostalgic for that show, too. Anyways, Sharpe was all pretty and heroic (but so dumb when it comes to women) and Rossendale was pretty but slimy and weedy (and so dumb when it comes to women). I just love the shot where Sharpe leans out of the window with nowt but a smile. And what a swinger, starting the episode with one woman and ending with another. Sexy Sharpie, indeed.
Btw, I was home in time for tea for the first time in a week (I've been living on ship's rations: two dry biscuits and a glass of water) and it were grand: a waldorfy salad consisting of chicken, apple, rocket, walnuts and blue vein cheese. And no, I tell a lie, it's not been all dry crackers. On Tuesday, when I didn't get home until really late, I found a tape of Time Team and a lunchbox containing a sandwich and a tiny custard tart. It's lovely to find things like that in a dark kitchen.
And speaking of food, a cheese toastie, which I presume is Britspeak for a toasted cheese sandwich, featured as a minor macguffin in a D&P book I was reading, and, maybe because I was on public transport, I was instantly reminded of the loud and unable not to be overheard discussion from the young chaps in the next seats on a train from Nottingham to London about the hitherto unknown (by me at least) uses of a cheese toastie as a sexual aid. Oy.
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