mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

burn baby burn

This morning as I was doing the old gallows trudge to the office (in the building I hated so much the last time I worked here I quit, but here I am, back again, and still hating it - people keep telling me to quit but all I can think of is been there, done that, and here I am back again like poor old crazed Number Six) and I apparently looked so miserable a complete stranger felt compelled to console me. Think positive, they urged.

I was trying to. I was honestly trying to come up with a list of pros for my current situation - hence the expression of grim desperation, no doubt.

Well, I'm closer to the shops, but that's a con, really, as soon as I get paid. Oh yeah, we're changing over pay systems so I've not been paid in over a month. Didn't need that on my hols and am still surving on what I had in my pockets, which wasn't much to start with and we're now into fishing into coat pockets, bags and behind the cushions for spare change. One more week to go. At least the student diet of tinned fish and instant noodles/pasta is nostalgic. I wished I'd had warning re the blocking of supply, but where would be the fun in that, teased Peanut Gallery, knowing how these places work: maliciously and malevolently.

Anyways, I am now in possession of a locked cabinet for my valuables after last week's klepto capers. What, they asked, could I possibly have worth locking up? Oh, the usual: software, manuals, hardware, passwords... et viola, one locked cabinet (now also hosting my tea and teaspoons and sugar).

I mean, it's not as if people didn't occassionally pilfer my pantry and stationery at the old place, but this complete denuding the desk of everything not nailed down was something new entirely. So no favourite cup, no toys on the PC, no postcards pinned to the wall, no nuffink. Sigh.

At least it means I get home early (ie on time) now. I'm no longer requested and required to work for six other depts, and I can't bear to be here one second longer than I have to be. And it's nice to get home to a cuppa with the good tea in my fave cup. (And I know I bitched and whined about the long days and they were long and hard but on some nights, avoiding domesic disputes, snuggled up by myself with my uggies on my feet, a hot water bottle at my back, my fave tea in my fave cup and listening to a BBC play on the web, some nights it wasn't too bad, almost cosy). But now it's good to get home. Not that I'm up to slogging straight inrto the housework, but a cuppa, lately accompanied by some Easter treat Himself has brought home, is quite the thing.

Didn't get much done online last night though. I am struggling, really struggling with the backlog (Ashes to Ashes, Robin Hood, Torchwood, Primeval, Lewis, Baftas, etc, oh my) and poor lil pc keeps overheating. Last night he only went an hour and a bit before getting too grumpy to carry on, but I was kind of in the same place so when he started to get all cranky and about to crash I called it a night.

Besides, it was time for Lewis (yes, also loving the whole getting online before tv, not after, though it's much slower, natch). I love Lewis, I really love it at the moment. I would go so far as to call it my show du jour. I don't know why it or why now, I just caught it at the right moment I suppose and last night was a "new" episode as tv has, to my shame, overtaken my dvd viewing. It's not so much the plots, which are pretty much Brit cop show standard, and there's nothing the slightest bit wrong in that, but it's Lewis and Hathaway themselves which make the show for me. Lewis, always outshone by Morse, is finally given room to grow in this, and he has, becoming a far more interesting, complex and contradictory creature. There's a shrewd copper lurking beneath that crumpled exterior and it's sweet the way Hathaway has latched onto Lewis as a mentor. Poor Lewis, though. Nobody respects him and therey're always quite blatant about wishing him gone instead of Morse. I think Lewis' stubborn shrugging off of slights and sticking with it is part of his charms.

Hathaway is an elusive enigmatic creature and I'm with Laurence in resisting and regretting anything that damages the mystery. He's fascinating to watch (both actor and character) and I admire Hathaway's loyalty to Lewis. And, what can I say, I was greatly amused last night when the boys were mistaken for, ahem, "antique collectors". Yes, they played it for laughs, but Hathaway playing along until Lewis twigged was just really, well, playful. Po faced Hathaway has a deep mischevious streak that he just can't help giving into where Lewis is concerned. It's one of my favourite quirks. That and the oh so dry wit (when being accused to looking smug by a shrieking superior he patiently explains that it's just the shape of his face that makes him seem so - trust me, his delivery sold it).

Yes, me likey very much. Ashes may mildly disappoint, but at least I have Lewis and Hathaway to provide my much needed dynamic duo fix.

And besides, have been quietly collecting young Mr Fox's back catalogue for a coulple of years now: Island at War, Miss Marple, Elizabeth II, Becoming Jane, Foyle's War, Colditz, Ultimate Force, Gosford Park, etc, though it was the theatre that really sold him. Sigh. Wish that I could see more London theatre - because it is not the same as seeing them on film or telly, so not. It's just sooo much better. Really, really (she says, happily remembering another actor in another quite stunning play).

Tonight though it's Life on Mars and Unit One. On at the same time so poor old Unit One is going to be IQ'd and watched on Saturday. Hopefully this time sans interruption (last week it was a phone call and the week before the laundry cycle and it's not a show I can follow easily away from the screen) but it was funny when Peanut Gallery cracked up and my friend asked if there were some particularly hilarious blood splatter patterns on the old Unit One, but I understand it was just Fischer's wife having a tanty over Fischer using homicide HQ as a creche.
Poor old Fischer and his domestic disasters (all the wives in this are, by tradition, shrill harpies, and I'm so glad IP ditched the hag and is gettin' some fine lovin' in whatever town he fetches up in). Anyway last week it was yet another murder in a Danish beach house. What is it with Danish beach houses and murder? Now even the Germans are dumping bodies at Danish beach houses (meanwhile in Yorkshire, Dalziel and Pascoe must be getting fed up with all the corpses washing ashore from all these Danish beach house murders). I swear, if someone invited me to a Danish beach house I'd start screaming, I'd be like a cat refusing to go into a cat box, I'd be all hell no, I won't go.

And what is the attraction of a grim Danish beach house anyway? This one had snow as well as sand (ie not my idea of a beach holiday). "You can build a snowman and a sandcastle," enthused Peanut Gallery. "It's two holidays in one!".

Perhaps so, but the high mortality stats are a worry.

The other show I've been watching and enjoying as a guilty pleasure is Burn Notice. To the best of my knowledge (having been unable to check back more than a week in the old f-list) nobody else is digging this, but I am. It's cheesy, but I like it. It's got Bruce Campbell in it (but oh, the years have not been kind, this is Bruce, the Vegas years, alas) and I couldn't remember where I'd seen the guy before until I went a-googling and saw he was in the (much derided by me) US version of Touching Evil (I was a hardcore fan of the UK vers). Anyway, I kinda love Burn Notice. It isn't anything more than it says it is: a cheesy ex-spy/PI show, and I loved the way it had it's own style and swagger right out of the gate, unlike other shows who drift and steal and borrow but struggle even into S2 or S3 to find their voice). Not Burn Notice. Nope, it was ready to plug and play, right out of the box. I love the snarky asides and the Road Runner styled subtitles.

Subtle this show is not, but it's set in Miami so it's meant to be loud and silly. Best spy show since, well, it's hard to compare, but certainly Our Hero seems far more competent and skilled than any of the angst mavens in Spooks, which I still love, but they ain't so cool as to manage some of the tricks with just a drill, can of petrol and a lighter. Hee, it's like MacGyver, with attitude.

Spooks tends to use too much CCTV, is too soapy and stiff upper lippy, but it is British, the same way Burn Notice is too much about the guns and money and snappy lines, but it is American. It's a lot more hands on than Spooks, that's for sure (like Harry, I deplore the lack of old school spycraft vs an over reliance on technology). Burn Notice is far more old skool dirty tricks, and more engaging for it, I feel. In a review of Last Enemy they said there was only so much dramatic tension to be had from someone typing at a keyboard, and while Spooks is the master of this, there are limits, and IT is never going to be more exciting than explosions - Spooks often intercuts the two (and don't think I'd not noticed).

But that's beside the point. Burn Notice is all cheeky charm and fun to watch and I like it, even though I know I should be watching brussell sprout telly instead.
Laurence Fox: when I met Billie Piper, it was just ‘wow'
BBC costumes arm in limbo
The secret life of Emily Mortimer: The actress talks frankly about her complex world
New DVD Release for MST3K: The last!
Culp & Cosby
Supernatural Burning Questions Answered!
New Indiana Jones trailer a hit online
Puppy-toss video makes Marine figure of hate
Brideshead revitalised
Star turn: astrologer who became SOE's secret weapon against Hitler
What makes a gay classic?
British TV should give writers room
They're making a hash of The Breakfast Club
The West Wing: salutary or sinister?
Literary sex is such a turn-off
Mystery of Leonardo's lost work 'almost solved'
The battle of Bear Creek: New threat in America's backyard
Woman jailed for teapot worship
Tags: bruce campbell, burn notice, laurence fox, lewis, rejseholdet, spooks

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