Three hours of Stargate last night. Once this would have had me rolling in pleasure but I'm just not that into the show any more (more the fault of the fandom that the show itself). First up we had the ol' the evil aliens are really the good aliens plot, so far so boring.
Next up was the I Dream of Daniel one, which is one of my favourites. It has thought, it has heart, it's quite clever, there's good use of Daniel and CJ acts his little heart out, bless (in a genuine this is my star turn and I'm going to give it all I've got way). For a format breaking episode it was surprisingly low on cheese.
Over on TV1 we had Urgo so we were back into the saturated fats, big time. Still, cute Jack/Daniel moments, and one takes what one gets.
The other SF I watched was Doctor Who, still with the Daleks, and it's amazing how DW swings from left wing to right wing depending on the producer. So does Stargate, though nobody ever comments on it. One week they'll be pissing on the Ruskies big time, the next week they'll be staging a worker's revolution against the ruling classes, and they'll never see the hyprocrisy of this.
The same with Doctor Who, and we wonder over the comparison of the Daleks to Nazis while the Thals are held up as Aryan perfection and the Daleks are referred to as subhuman. Mixed messages au go go.
This is why fans probably get so rabid over these shows, because the schizoid texts allow multiple, valid, interpretations. Even Trek manages to preach fascism and individual rebellion in the same episode and be totally po faced about it.
Speaking of fans, apparently one has to be either a Jack fan or a Daniel fan these days. Those who profess to be both are regarded with suspicion, like bi-sexuals. It's partly the fault of the show, having seasons that are either Daniel-Lite or Jack-Lite, but still, some of those fans, sheesh. Like those Jack fans who brutally flamed me for not watching the show in the correct and proper fashion according to their rules.
As if there is a right way to watch (as much as people try to legislate and enforce such things). Groupthink. These people are obviously housebound and spend far too much on the net belittling others. Get lives, you dickweeds.
Sorry, a little sore on that spot still, obviously. I was actually quite chipper this morning, which is just asking for a smacking, and it was a surprise as I'd had such a terrible afternoon.
I'd wanted to knock off early, and I had every right to with the four hours of unpaid overtime I'd done the day before, and work on my fic (because I'm enjoying it and getting feedback and it's all lovely) but my evil boss made me stay back, fixing his mistakes, belittling me and harrassing me and leaning over me and messing with my PC for several hours of more unpaid overtime and hours of my life I'll never get back until I finally snapped - another report. Sigh. I'm only human, I had a three panadol headache and he harrassed me until my voice rose and I told him to Please Leave My Computer Alone. Damn.
I'd rather go back to not talking at all, please. If he leans over me again I'll slap a harrassment charge on him. There's nothing sexual in it at all, of course, the exact opposite, as it's all menance as he doesn't like me, but people take charges of sexual harrassment seriously at least and it'd give me a much needed no fly zone and the man is harrassing me. It's just malice, is what it is. I've never been so miserable.
I mean, I spent two years down in a shed in the basement carpark sorting ancient files and I loved it because I could wear what I wanted, play my music loud and work on my uni essays in the afternoon without fear of interuption.
Now I have a lovely desk by a window, a chair, a place to put my cup, a living wage and I'm in hell.
Still, I played with my currawongs this morning, tossing them slightly fermented-in-the-heat grapes. We make a game of it and tell each other where to throw the grapes and the currawongs go out and field them. If I can communicate effectively across species I suspect it's not my communication skills that are at fault. All I need are people to listen, just really listen. At least my currawongs listen, but then, they do get grapes.
So I skipped off to work on this fine Spring morning. I chatted with the neighbours, the Salvation Army guy, the newsagent lady, I was Little Miss Sunshine. I finished two bits of fic in my quiet time in the morning. It was all good.
Now the Ugly Sisters are in and I'm just, like, arrrrgh. I hate them, and it ruins my day. I know I should be more zen and move above this, but it's hard, especially when they keep dragging me down, like nightmare beasts in a cheap horror flick.
I'm missing my near daily correspondence with varina8 but I understand that she's busy with real life stuff. Still, I think of C. (and thanks again for the bag-o-fun) everytime I go past the claw machine at the station, especially when there's a cool toy on top. Not that I need any more crap but I remain amazed and in deep admiration and envy at his preternatural skill in fishing stuff out of claw machines and I understand guys like being admired for arcane skills, and you don't get any more arcane than that - grin.
Heh, they're talking movie nerds on triplej and film Daniel just got namechecked as "that nerdy guy from Stargate". Ah, bless. Speaking of Stargate, a friend I'm trying to pimp the series to wants to know the slashiest episodes. Answers via email please.
Ooooh, they just played Angel by Massive Attack, which features heavily in Best Laid Plans, and I'm swimming in warm, syrupy Sandro feelings. Mmmm, Alessandro...
I might have to slip some Sandro into my planned Sam festival.