mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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poison arrow

Oh boy, do I have a severe caes of Monday. Though I suppose it's what I get for staying up late watching the late repeat of Spooks. What can I say, one dose of Rupert is never enough - he was playing a stiff upper lipped Nazi sympathiser on Poirot on Friday night. ("Is it because I is blonde?" Why yes, Rupert dear, I think it just might be). He was very, very blonde in Poirot. To the point of looking unnatural.

Poirot also featured Paul McGann, who is just popping up all over the place of late, including Kidnapped on Sunday but alas I missed the bulk of that.

So when I last left you I was about to get stuck into some actual work, ignoring the screaming cries of my muse to put pen to paper.

Well, I didn't quite get to the mess on the floor as intended as I'd entirely forgotten I was meant to be going to a baby shower that afternoon. In fact, I would have forgotten utterly had I not received a shopping list for on my way back. Way back from what? Oh, that.

I mean, the hell am I doing at a baby shower? Me, the world's most embittered spinster? Never been to one before (I'm usually shed at the engagement stage) and probably won't be again. It was, well, weird. Still, at least I'd remembered to pick up the gift during my Xmas shopping runs. And there I was, thinking that having offended everyone out of orbit last year that at least I wouldn't have to be running around buying presents all the time. Not a chance. Worse, going into the shop wearing a huge wooden plaque hung around my neck that said SPINSTER in large gothic type was fairly humiliating, ditto my choice of gift (not what she wanted at all but what I know about babies you could print on a tea leaf). But at least I tried. And no matter what came out of my gob, surely it couldn't have been worse than AP, there also as a long time friend of the family, who loudly announced our arrival by congratulating herself on having survived being driven there by an Asian taxi driver (her emphasis).

One of those moments where you just beg the earth to swallow you whole, but it never does. I know everyone thinks I'm rude, obnoxious and uncouth but let's put it in conxtext and look at what my baseline is. Please, please tell me that what I've always suspected is true, that I'm really a changling. There is no way in hell I could have sprung from that family, aside from my hideous outward appearance.

Mind you, I did toss in a conversational grenade myself. They were all talking stretch marks and I was bored out of my skull so I told them where I worked. I usually never, ever do this because it's instant angry mob weilding pitchforks and flaming torches but this time I was glad of the diversion.

I'm afraid that is a vice I share with my beloved Fitz: I can't stand being bored and I will be outrageous just to kick the games along, as it were. Wicked, but well, they were talking stretch marks. Talk about your circles of hell.

Anyway, games, conversations and present wrapping endure it was back to tackle the book fall.
Turns out I'd not destroyed all my previous notes after all as my room was awash in a veritable sea of Robinalia from ancient ballads to the lastest teen mag, and, as I grumped about stating emphatically that I was not going to waste any more time writing fic about that little prick, my wee Lego outlaws attacked from above. Is somebody trying to tell me something? (mind you, looking up Apophenia on Wiki took me right back to Life on Mars).

Sure I have a fic in my head, but I really don't like Robin, around whom it must necessarily revolve (unless I made him a minor charcter like I end up doing with Sam, only because Sam scares me so). My main objection is that Robin is a sulker, and I can't stand sulkers. Given a choice between a sulker and a beater, I'd rather take my lumps now than endure the silent treatment for days or even weeks. Nothing worse than a sulker.

Ignoring the moody bugger, I turned to sillier fare, being Damian Lewis in Much Ado About Nothing (btw, apparently ginger nuts are a dying breed). I'd been told that Damian, in the first non angsty role that's been screened out here, was somewhat excruciating, but being a farce, being ridiculous was required to some degree, and he had have me laughing out loud on several occassions (though it was the big green ball in the cupboard that nearly inexplicably killed me).

I really liked this version, too, and how they stuck very closely to the script, actually retaining some dialogue and translating the rest into modern idiom. I mean, one of Beatrice's entire speeches really could be just summed up with "Are you on crack?".

The only real noticeable diversion from the story was that our 21st century Hero was just too much of a modern girl to take back Claude after such a cruel and public humiliation, and while I had been curious to see how they'd manage it, I kind of approved, because he was a jerk and he did need to be taught that his behaviour was not okay.

The new setting on the tv station worked quite well, though it was really incidental as the main action took place in various parties, and it was amusing to see that all those rites had changed very little and required very little in the way of updating. Perhaps it was almost a little too easy, and B & B's romance a little too stilted at times, but it was cute and funny and that was the point. Much like P&P, once they'd got past their egos and wounded pride, they found that they really did quite fancy one another, after all. Though what happens next, especially if they discover their relationship based on a ruse, is left to the imagination (though I think that one is supposed to hope, that, unlike the younger lovers, they have finally put such games behind them). I dunno, this one I did not study, I only know it from the fillum, you know, the one with Emma and Wilson from House and Keanu in it.

So, not as great as Macbeth, but lots of fun, and it was lovely to see Damian being not stoic, evil or heroic for a change (saw him last week in Colditz while I was up all night being ill, and bless his little cotton socks for keeping me company).

Oh yeah, I put up my wee 70s lights and they look extraordinarily twee, but provide the required low wattage of minimal illumination I was after, so that's okay. Also, my magpies took me at my word and after bawling them out for not bothering to sing any more, serenading me briefly upon every appearance yesterday. I was just so cross that it had devolved into a one sided relationship where I handed out table scraps and they just gave me filthy looks. At least somebody listens. To borrow from Prof Henry Higgins, why can't people be more like them.

But I shall not think upon unhappy one-sided relationships, even if I can't turn on the telly without running into one of the bastards (like the Dickens spawn in the woeful MIT the other day, and wtf went wrong with that lineage).

Oh dear. Today's the sort of sleep deprived day where I could wiffle on at length about utter nonsense, but I'm just a little too, too sleep deprived for that. I could try and dissect why I just can't really get into Sam's skin in my fic, as much as I try. There are two reasons. The first is the whole is he mad/in a coma/back in time/something else/all of the above conumdrum that still has TRA thrashing about and thinking about it too deeply makes my head hurt. Also, I find myself oddly reticent to commit to one theory, so by playing them all (essentially playing it safe) there's a polite distance which cannot be bridged.

Sam is also a bit of a cold fish, and highly unlikeable at times, for instance his constant insistence that Gene trust him to do what he thinks is right without ever offering the same trust to Gene (ditto Annie). Sam is prickly and standoffish and just really hard to write for. He's also extrordinarily self absorbed (to the extent of possibly being sucked up into his mind, ala Ziggy) so that everything that happens is filtered through Sam's fishbowl lens of perception. Gene meanwhile tends to be a little more all seeing and all knowing and is a lot easier and more fun to write. And I haven't even bothered to write anything where Gene really is all seeing and all knowing, and now I won't get the chance (if Gene is real, he can't be possessed of supernatural knowledge).

Weirdly, watching Jane Eyre was actually a bit of a revelation into the curiously contradictory relationship between Sam and Gene, you know, one minute they are the same mind (the leaping over the desk being a cute if cheesy example), at other times, a complete mystery to each other. It reminds me of how Jane describes Rochester as her soul mate, her other half, yet he still managed to spring the suprise mad wife locked up in the tower on her.

That's how I think it is for Gene. He thinks he knows Sam inside out, and usually he's right (the way he played Sam in 7 is evidence of that) but Sam has darker secrets that Gene just can't imagine (and here we have the way Gene looses control of Sam in 8, second guessing him enough to show up for the finale, but nevertheless surprised Sam's complete breakdown in reasoning and control).

Not that Gene is about trying to control Sam, well, actually, he is. Heh. I think he finds it exciting when Sam stands up to him (think Taming of The Shrew), but I think he'd appreciate a bit more obedience and loyalty in his right hand man (or perhaps he's too used to Ray, whose one moment of striking out alone ended in disaster). I think Gene would very much like Sam to agree that the sun is the moon, but I'm not sure if he'd be happy if he did get that degree of submission. Gene seems to prefer folks who give him a run for his money, like Sam, and Jackie Queen. Gene really sparks up when he's being challenged. Lovely, the way he does.

I could also ponder upon the nature of friendship and while Sam and Gene's relationship does exhibit a lot of cruelty towards each other, I feel there's a far deeper friendship at work. I know some folks think they are only on the first steps to friendship, but as far as I'm concerned, that bridge is thoroughly crossed and conquered by the end of episode two.

Sadly most of the evidence is non verbal, or it's in the way they say it, but just those smouldering looks across a crowded pub - they don't have to run towards each other like Cathy and Heathcliffe for me to believe it. It's there in the way Sam imitates Gene's threats then casually slaps the sandwich on his chest. It's there in the way Sam calls for Gene, and the way Gene saves him (on many occassions), and the happy smiles that ensue. It's there in those brilliant moments where they are of the same mind and same action. It's there in the gentle way Gene hustles Sam out of the curry house, or the way Gene handles Sam when they've fished the tart out of the canal. It's there when they both fear for the other in epoisode six. It's there in all those little secrets they share (everything from backhanders to Roger Whittaker). It's there in the teasing, the pet names, and even in the way they get angry with each other (usually for failing to live up to the other's expectation). And did I mention those looks? Those shared smiles? All the manhandling?

Oh yes, I do think they've found their other selves, their missing part, as the legend goes, but yeah, there's still dark secrets between them, the old crazy wife in the locked tower. Sam's mental stability, for starters. Not to mention the whys and wherefores of Sam's predicament, for the biggest threat to their eternal happiness (will he die, be whipped back to 2006, parted from Gene forever?).

You know, I don't think I could bear if if they were torn apart forever. Not the most OTP ever. That'd be too bleak, even for me.

And now, back to pointless drudge, but before I do that:

Today's pic:

Ewan and Hugh and their duelling parkas. Is this like an Inuit standoff?

PS. Argh. I just hate it when I get up to a section of fic I know I've written, but can't find anywhere for the life of me. Somehow, this version I'm working on must not be the latest one, because I'm missing chunks, and I can't find 'em. Rehashing is not fun.

PPS. I killed Bambi.
Dyeing breed
Here's one we made much, much earlier - and now it's time to move
The method and the madness of Martin Sheen
Poison Arrow - ABC
Race on to make Litvinenko film,22049,21047996-5006014,00.html
Little Mosque on the Prairie,22049,21037981-5006014,00.html
Supernatural is first online
From ghost of a chance to a horror hit,22606,21054000-5006343,00.html
Brothers in arms
Oh, brothers, where are thou?,21985,21027632-5006022,00.html
Miller says tatts all folks
Behind bars, truth may not set you free,,14934-2539795,00.html
Caught in the spotlight
Is this the best car show ever?
Bombers Strike, and America Is in Turmoil. It’s Just Another Day for Jack Bauer.
Kiefer Sutherland on 24’s explosive new season,,3-2543514,00.html
A supersize 'solution' to a giant problem
First home of modern man in Europe was Russia
23 (numerology) [Life on Mars ref]
Confirmation bias
Clustering illusion
Manfred von Richthofen
Woman dies after radio contest

Tags: ewan mcgregor, gene hunt, hugh jackman, jane eyre, life on mars, robin hood, sam tyler, william shakespeare

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