“Jerry! Jerry!”
I watched the pre-screening controversy about the showing of Jerry Springer - The Opera on Saturday night with a combination of amusement and rage.
On the one hand, watching the sanctimonious buffoons standing outside the BBC on Friday burning their TV Licences and hoping they get prosecuted for watching Songs Of Praise was pleasantly diverting.
On the other, seeing people get so exercised over something so pointless, and attempting to enforce their view of what's acceptable on the rest of us made me want to call the BBC to say I think they definitely should screen it.
In the end, we watched it, but after about ten minutes I went and got a book to read, because I found it pretty much unwatchable purely from the point of view of its entertainment value.
From Kittens To Hounds
I've been meaning to mention this since David told me about it over the Christmas break:
There's a new Kate Bush album coming out!
I know - how bonkers is that? Not sure when yet, but I can't wait.
I gave up being excited about music years ago, but I can safely say that it's the first album in a long time that I'll be making a point of getting on the day it's released. I mean, come on - it's Kate Bush!!!!!
And on a related note, Him Indoors picked up The Futureheads album yesterday, which contains their cover of Hounds Of Love. I suspect it'll take a few listens for me to really like it, but it's very different from the Bush version, which I think it would have to be to work at all.
TV Round Up
On Tuesday evening we saw a Channel 4 docu called Wacko About Jacko, which explored the lives (and I use the term in its loosest possible sense) of some Michael Jackson 'SuperFans'. These people travelled from the UK to California to lurk outside the courthouse when Jackson was due to be making an appearance (having diverted across to Las Vegas because there was a rumour he might show up at an awards show), and are so deluded in their certainty that they have a special relationship with The Freak that they managed to interpret a random wave out of the car window as an instruction to follow him back to Neverland. The sheer excitement they displayed at the end, when they'd been invited into a security hut days later so that Jackson (or one of his minions more like) could talk to them on the phone was ridiculous. "He talks through a microphone to a hundred thousand people in a stadium, but he was talking through just a phone only to me."
Okay, so I'm not prone to being starstruck under any cirumstances, but the almost religious reverence which people apply to him makes absolutely no sense at all.
In a totally different direction, though on the same channel, last night was the first episode of Desperate Housewives, which apart from the rubbish title promises to be quite interesting, and at the very least entertaining. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the last thing was something which looks as though it's going to have quite a strong element of mystery to it. Teri Hatcher, as far as i know, hasn't been regularly employed on anything except Radio Shack commercials since Lois and Clark, which is a pity, because she's not a bad actor, and she does comedy very well. The rest of the cast, with the exception of the Hispanic husband, are also very good, and the scene in which one guy tells his perfect wife why he wants a divorce is brilliant; "And I hate the bizarre way your hair never moves".
We'll be watching it regularly unless the rest of the series drops off in quality pretty steeply.
Three Minutes
There's much debate in the papers today about the three minute silence observed across Europe at lunchtime today in memory of the victims of the Tsunami, and whether it's necessary or appropriate.
My own feeling is that 'periods of silence' seem to be entirely too frequent these days, and it's not just Liverpool that seems to be getting hooked on grief.
Also, this 'sliding scale of tragedy' which determines how many minutes of silence any particular event gets seems to be getting more pronounced. Does a huge tragedy warrent more than a major terrorist action? Does a schoolkid murder get longer than a tragic accident? And who decides these things anyway?
In the event, at midday I was coming back from a meeting with Dave, and we had to pull in for petrol. Such was the determination of the staff that no one should pump a drop of fuel until we were safely out of the zone of silence that at one BP station on the A3, an extremely respectful five minutes of silence was observed.
Wow
There's the most fantastic sunrise visible from the office window right now. I wish I had my camera with me.
Odd Timing
My brother and future sister-in-law are on their way for a visit just in time to for me to go back to work tomorrow. The hazards of their work schedule I guess. Anyway, it'll be nice finally to meet her, and also to have a chance to spend some time with the little brother for the first time in ages, even if it is just a couple of evenings.
It's felt like the break has been a bit wasted, though that's partly the fault of this damn bug having brought us both down so much. I haven't done half as much with the time as I would have liked. Oh well, it can't be helped now I suppose.
Last Marple
We actually made it all the way through the final Agatha Christie: Marple last night without being distracted by bad plastic surgery, and it was every bit as mad as expected. They'd been mercifully sparing with the plot changes, not doing much more than cutting out a couple of extraneous characters and adding an irrelevant romance.
Catherine Tate as the Russian (or possibly Polish) housemaid Mitzi was a truly bonkers bit of casting, which lends weight to the sense I mentioned after the first one that the whole enterprose is seen as just a jolly romp of a get together for a load of Brit character actors - what do you mean, there are NO Russian (or possibly Polish) actors?
Kitten
The love of my life has recently embarked upon a new path - one which involves him wanting to get a kitten. In truth, I don't know exactly where this came from, as ever since we met he's made it clear he's a dog person, and refers to Dillon as 'The Evil One'. Yet it seems that somehow the '"Aw, look at the kittens" switch has been thrown, and we're looking at a serious plan.
I confess that at first I wasn't sure if I should be taking this seriously, but it seems that I should.
Start As You Mean….
First day of the year, and we set off for a drive into Kent; quick wander round Tonbridge Castle and then round the town, then back - we've both been hit by a bug since around Cristmas (David since a few days before), so we're being a bit rubbish and bundling up at home with comfort food and doing nothing this evening.
New Year's Resolution? I think I should try to Be A Better Blogger.