This is getting out of hand, as we suspected it might. We refer to the furious 12th century calendar debate inspired by the first episode of Robin Hood on the ABC a week ago. "Under terms of the Market and Wakes Charter, Henry II (1154-1189) granted Nottingham its market day as Saturday - actually, sunset on Friday to sunset on Saturday," insists John Stanton. "So unless he arrived in the dark, Robin would have gone to Nottingham on a Saturday, not a Tuesday." Part of us wants to knock this subject on the head, but it's like a train wreck; you can't look away.
Heh heh heh. Actually, now that I know it's not going to get any better I'm actually enjoying it far more this time around and wallowing in the bits that don't suck. Guy was drool worthy as always and Robin slighly less of a prat than I remember, but this is the last episode where he's actually nice to Much. The poor wee unloved by his beloved baby.
Speaking of little Much, the look he gave Marian when he told her Robin had called out her name. Oh my. What a look. One of the few times even the stupid hat couldn't dampen the lad's intensity. Poor Much. He loves Robin so badly, and it just ain't reciprocated. And I wonder in which circumstances Robin was crying out the wrong name, because Much looked really cut.
Mind you, Much can be such a needy bastard. But he loves Robin dearly and deserves not to have his love, nor his scars that never felt a wound, so cruelly mocked.
Even Marian failed to be thoroughly annoying as this time I caught her on the verge of tears as she confronts a Robin more willing to through his life away for war, glory and peasants than be her man, and I can see how that would be very upsetting to a gal.
Actually, I take it back, Robin is a prat. He claims he's doing to right thing, and he is, as far as lofty priciples go (he's exactly like an annoying student radical who you just know is going to be driving a 4WD in his thirties), but he's so callous re the hurt feelings of those who love him. Trouble is, he's such a charming prat. With pretty eyes.
Keef was keeping it down to eleven (though I do hope someone emails the Herald with a comment about the "tick-tock" comment, predating clocks by a few years - heh) and being very clever and making Robin look rather like an idiot, which was different, and hello to the homoerotic vibe.
So yeah, loved it to bits. Followed up with Inspector Lynley.
Meanwhile, doing the work of three people at work and three people at home has left me completely frazzled (tried to post parcels early Sat morn without having addressed them first) and I'm rather fed up so Saturday night was spent in my room sulking, well, sulking over some choice tv, anyhoo.
Watched the Shakespeare episode of Doctor Who, which won me over just because it had Dean Lennox Kelly in it (who has somewhat bowled me over of late, but only because I've just seen about five years worth of work finally screened here since Xmas, especially his Puck). He certainly made for a lively and entertaining Shakespeare (and again with the whole Britpop thing). Loved him, so the cheap line stealing, the witches plot that made the Leprechaun episode of Charmed look like art (well, not quite but close) and the rest of it could all be forgiven. It's amazing what a couple of good leads can do with a bit of fluff if left to it. And I did cackle over it quite a bit so I think I'm being curmudgeounly and untrue to say I didn't enjoy it. I did, very much so, but modern Who is a lot like a modern popcorn film, gee whiz when you watch it, but afterwards, well, one starts to notice the frayed plot threads etc and one feels as though one as been thoroughly Barnumed.
Much the same with Primeval, though since I adore the leads again and have such a good time watching it I'll forgive it nearly everything. Except the running down of the beastie in Eppy 1. I've seen what roos can do to a 4WD with bull bars, so to park the car in the beastie with nary a scratch - I don't think so.
The second episode was great fun, only ruined by spiders that didn't move in a properly spiderly fashion (trust me, I know, and if those girls in the SAS think those spiders were of unsual size, they should try watering down the bottom of my garden). I liked the red back colouring on the centipede, but again, I ask, if it burrows, why did it ignore a perfectly good drain and why did it neatly stack up the boxes behind its hidey hole? But I was willing to forgive that for the gorgeous Stephen fondling that ensued. Ah, Primeval, everyone wants the one they can't have. It's like a circle jerk of sexual frustration. Except for Cutter who seems to get everyone throwing themselves at him.
Yeah, I can so see the (namechecked) Buffy influence. Right down to the unconvincing monsters. Uh, guys, you might want to take a leaf from early X Files which successfully adhered to the premise that if you can't afford it, don't light it. Just fyi.
But at least it explains all those delays on the Tube. If it ain't Cybermen and Yeti, it's those giant spiders and centipedes.
Also watched Spooks, Murphy's Law, North & South and Top Gear. In fact we laughed so hard over the launching of the Reliant that a neighbour yelled at us to shut up. Whoops.
I notice that were up to the Fassbender episodes of Murphy's Law, Primeval starts this Sat and State of Play is on UKTV. Okay, can we not have everything I was going to watch this year on while I'm away? Thank goodness for friends and amazon, or I'd really be pouting (peanut gallery has been left with a two page excel chart, in any case).
Oh yeah, watch one and bit episodes of the Tudors (meant to watch Gently too, but I had to serve my masters) and you were right about the boobapalooza. Not a hell of a lot in the way of plot, just a lot of JRM sneering, striding about sneering and having the sex while sneering. Not that there's anything wrong with that but at some point I hope US tv will get past the BOOBIES!!!! sniggering infatuation that we had to work through in 1972 (see Number 96) and actually shoehorn some historical drama in with all the raunch. And I can't believe I just said that.
In fact, I should watch more Tudors - it makes Robin Hood look layered, textured and carefully thought out with an actual point to it. Good grief (but actually it does if one can get past the anvils and outfits and the OTT sneering - I'm still waiting for somone to start throwing the minties when Keef lets loose).
Meanwhile it's rained so hard here it's set off the building alarms twice. Would that it were bucketing furiously like this over my garden but no. It wasn't even wet when I left, which is why I decided to break in my new semi-posh shoes. I needed some nice shoes to wear and I can't walk in posh shoes and sadly my good shoes, I noticed over Xmas, were getting past it, so new shoes it was. Poor shoes...not merely drenched but drowneded in flash flooding this morning as it was coming down as an actual white waterfall when I stepped off the bus, water swirling over the gutter and up over my ankles. Sigh.
Ah well, they're broke now, and at least I can walk in them, mainly because they're very like my old fave pair. Why not? It's like trying to decide between the nice dress I bought at Xmas and the nice dress I bought a fortnight ago and then deciding to go with my old favourite anyway. Why not? It looks best and I know it travels very well. And frankly, I'm too frazzled to try anything new right now. I just want to curl up under my doona and not come out till Xmas. Perfect 'tude for travel - not.
I'm having terrible trouble with the packing, though, the new weight restrictions, etc, have really cramped my style, and it's hard to remember that while people keep telling me I'm going in spring this time (I actually so much prefer Feb, and would have gone then, had I been allowed, because it's much, much cheaper, so much less crowded and there are no trees to ruin my shots - I like gnarled branches scratching at ancient stone against a leaden sky, I like my photos all Bronte), I gotta remember it's not Spring as I know it. So my first pack was for 28C, then I realised whoa nelly, the paper says 12C, and that's being optimistic (I remember last time the paper's 10C was -17C on the ground). Even in Winter we're looking at 18C here, so yeah...mind fuck, and then picking four shirts and throwing three back cause of the new restrictions. Argh. And if that wasn't bad enough I can't find a little cheap Yardley roll on to freshen up an obviously limited and rarely washed wardrobe. Gah. (Well, I could festoon the train carriage with my smalls but I suspect I'd get thrown off, so I won't).
At least when I was looking for a bit of cheap bling to take ($2 shop shit only, nothing to tempt Thiefrow) I stumbled across a sekrit stash of about £60 I'd squirrelled away. Waste not want not, eh? So that was something that went right, at least.
Oh, gotta go. It's late, wet, oooh, thundering as of this instant, and I've got miles to go before I sleep. I'd like to sleep. I hear it's nice (was up all last night playing musical jumpers). So many things to do, so many things forgotten and I always feel like the Eatern German judges are going to mark me really hard again on whatever I've forgotten to pack, forgotten to do, etc. I can never do it right. Whimper. Grizzle.
The Shakespeare Code
Eric Bana walks away from rally crash
NBC Still Refusing to Order More Law
Damon Albarn: 'no more Gorillaz albums'
Kylie set for Dr Who
On TV: Don't turn off the tube -- hold out for 'Heroes'
Worst Big Brother ratings ever (RH ref)
Read all about it on the website, so why buy the paper?