Wednesday 22 April 2009

A televisual zombie

Still suffering. My nose has been producing an amazing amount of gunge today. A lovely way to spend my holiday. Constant hot drinks, fruit and soup. Ka got up on sunday morning first thing and produced a giant pot of soup which was bubbling away on our electric hob when I eventually stumbled, bleery eyed, into the kitchen. No idea how she does it. She has suddenly become an expert soup maker.
So under this horrendous cloud of cold and flu like symptoms I've been sat all week meddling with invitation designs and website designs with the occasional heavy dose of television. Ashes to Ashes was back on Monday night which looks as if it could be better than last season if it continues as good as its first episode. Keeley Hawes seems thoroughly settled in the role now after spending a lot of the first half of season one trying to make her mark over John Simm's now long gone character from the previous series Life on Mars. Gene's got the Audi Quattro back in action, this season opening with a tale of corrupt police officers in the seedy Soho streets.
I've also been watching Battlestar Galactica, the new version - not the awful, cheesy seventies version. Not that I can remember much of the original. My only memory from the old series was that Face from the A-Team was in it and he was pretty much cheese personified. Maybe the old version was not as bad as I remember... I'll probably never get the chance to find out anyway. This new version is a dark, gritty drama with a lot of intelligent themes including theology, religion and lots of heavy humanitarian issues. Certainly not just another science fiction space opera.
Tonight back down to Earth though as the rather annoying Kimberly was fired in The Apprentice. Thank goodness. All mouth and very little action, very much like at least four others in the remaining contestants. It'll be interesting to see how the next few weeks pan out. That's if I do see it. My vision may go into some sort of television overload in the next few days, turing my iris' into wirey, moving circles of static. A televisual zombie with gunge dripping from the nose seeing Cylons in my soup.

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