Today was not sucky day by any means but I still came home and indulged in comfort viewing for various reasons.
I think it was this: I went shopping today, and everywhere was playing Christmassy music. In Woolworths I heard an APPALLING version of "Fairytale of New York" which substituted all of Shane McGowan's shambling slurring and Kirsty McColl's bitterlemon charm for some nondescript tootley fake-shamrock Celtic bollocks and they bowdlerised the lyric. Bastards.
[this isn't actually the point of the story but I thought I'd share a little outrage *g*]
Anyway, I'm wandering round Woolworths (looking for one of those "you'll put someone's eye out with that" evil gas-powered stapleguns, as it happens) listening to bloody Slade singing bloody Merry Christmas Everybody for about the squillionth bloody time ALREADY and I started thinking God, I only have to buy three presents this year. Only three.
Oh, it got ugly inside my brain for a time there, but I went to the pub and presently all was in equilibrium again.
Could be worse I suppose. I could be my mum or my dad. Has to be worse for them. But I'm not good at making friends, I really do have hardly any family left and I'm the comparatively late, only child of late children. Sometimes, I don't like the look of the future much.
So, I indulged in comfort viewing, viz:
(1) The first of the 10 season 2 tapes of Farscape. Liked the opener because it had twistiness. And Lord it looked great. Tomorrow we have The Way We Weren't.
Also, C is right: Ben Browder is king of the snarky delivery. Some people just have that glorious whiplash delivery and he's one of them.
(2) Blood of the Vikings on BBC2. Because I are one. *g*
This is supposedly some blend of archaeology and genetics and history (with a snatch of historiography and the presenter talking down to us about those naughty naughty men with metal detectors *rolls eyes*)
Some of the findings they present as mind-blowing are banal. For example, the revelation that the modern day ascendants of the inhabitants of the Danelaw have Scandinavian genetic markers. Hmmm. Not something I wouldn't have guessed. *g*
One thing they said last week was cool though. There's a condition called Dupuytren's Contracture in which the tendons of the hand are genetically predisposed to shortening, increasingly so with age. It's a marker of far northern European/Scandinavian ancestry. My mother has it, and I do too -- can't straighten my little finger on both hands -- but my dad doesn't, which would indicate that the Scandinavian ancestry is on her side too.
(which of course it is anyway, she's the great-great-granddaughter of Solomina Codd-Hagen, formerly of Bergen, as well as coming from near York, (formerly Jorvik and an area that was part of the Danelaw.)
(3) Mucho Star Trek of various kinds. Wasn't really paying much attention, since it was Voyager and early TNG, not the glorious DS9.
(I sometimes wonder if I like DS9 more than the others because it's the only one with enough murkiness. In the others, there's little possibility that the crew could be wrong because they're Starfleet and the representatives of All That Is Good About Civilisation, whereas DS9, they're peacekeepers with good intentions but their agenda is not always the right one.
I like the scripts and acting in DS9 although Avery Brooks' delivery got very mannered later on with his. Strange. Habit. Of Stopping. Sentencesandthen. suddenlyrunningitall. Together.
Voyager had an element of it at the start with the whole Maquis thing but I think that maybe by the time they got to ST:Voy, writers were Trekked out)
Oh aye, and the trouble with tonight's TNG was that it was first season when we were supposed to think that the Ferengi were fearsome opponents. Which is rather like being scared of the Belgians.
"Oh no, the Belgians are coming!"
See. Doesn't work, does it. *g*
Finally we have the grand numero cuatro...
(4) XF: Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose.
I can never watch this often enough. Superb script, wonderful acting, genius moments of absurdity, beautiful end.
Go on about XF being shite now if you really, really must, but I'd stick the Five Perfect Seasons of XF against Five Perfect Seasons of any TV show on earth*
[*this only works with the Five Perfect Seasons theory. Which should also be applied to Buffy to get rid of all the episodes in which they didn't know what the bloody hell to do with Riley. Some serious losing of way going on in parts of those]
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Apparently in the US you can now buy a Michel Foucault action figure (œ15, at all good philosophy stores!)
Apparently it doesn't have many action features, it's not poseable and doesn't have an Action Man-style eagle eye, but if you pull a string in the back it will put the question of 'does what' in a privileged and primary place *snerk*
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Oh, and the office quiz? We sucked. Fourth. However, the team that won included the wife of the man who was reading the questions. He was given the questions the night before. Hmmm.
Please construct your own conspiracy theory. Marks will be given for byzantine oddness *g*