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last dream of 2007

My car broke down on the way down a hill, and I called the repair service. The mechanic was a vigorously cheerful woman who was not in the slightest nonplussed that by the time she'd turned up I'd lost the car somehow. Not to worry, she said, producing a map, let's just find it. That looks like the place, I said, pointing at a likely hill, and we were suddenly there. But it was unmetalled, and I'd broken down on tarmac. Um I'm sure this is wrong I said. Not to worry she said, let's check anyway, carrying on up the hill to a creepy little hamlet. Oh, I know this place, I said, it's famous for its original medieval features (it had an incredible church, but maybe I was bluffing). Embarrassed, I picked somewhere else on the map only to discover I was on an almost identical rough unmetalled hill, leading up to an equally tiny village full of equally exciting original medieval features. Dear god, trapped in rural authenticity. And I still hadn't found my car. And wasn't sure I wanted to find it anyway, as I can't drive.

I woke up this morning quite (un)accountably depressed. I'm sure it's not entirely down to watching Jeremy Clarkson ride an enormous fucking truck to the North Pole last night, or the chore-like feel of catching up with this year's Dr Who Christmas special*, or the state (moderate, moving to chaotic, mitigated slightly by fairy lights) of the house. Whence the ennui? Am I not blonde enough for new year?

New year's TV scheduling seems to have gone 80s-crazy, with Point Break and Patrick (vomit) Swayze in conversation with fans. I was trying to remember the three films the boarding house had on video this morning (I was at boarding school in the 80s). Top Gun, of course. The eternally loathsome and vile Dirty Dancing. But what was the third? Gremlins? Airplane 2? Or something even worse than that? Quentin Tarantino was entirely wrong about Top Gun, which remains the film that shows that manliness and blusher can go hand in hand. Speaking of which, I caught the better half of Kill Bill the other day and christ what a pile of "oh I see what you were trying to do there" it is. Under par in every direction -- mediocre marshal arts ballet, half-arsed american sinister, weak clever-dick gangster shit ... of course, I have a rotten cold so may be judging things over-harshly.

I have that tune, "it was acceptable in the 80s" running through my head, except I keep substituting the adjective. "It was execrable in the 80s..."

*Wow, next season's teaser is for a series so resolutely not for the kids that there weren't even any actors under 25. Still, the kids have the Sarah Jane Adventures now, so that's OK.

Comments

( 8 worms — Feed the birds )
mzdt
31st Dec, 2007 13:53 (UTC)
Jeremy Clarkson ride an enormous fucking truck to the North Pole

Someone from work has just gone (by plane, naturally) on holiday to Antarctica with her daughter 'to see it before it all goes'. I just didn't know where to start explaining...
cleanskies
31st Dec, 2007 14:18 (UTC)
I'll just go cry into the lake of human stupidity now.

applez
31st Dec, 2007 21:46 (UTC)
Well, I hate to say it, but they have a point. The desperation of my goodly efforts is proportional to my perceived futility in doing it.

Alas, no amount of fair trade shade grown double-mocha (child-labour-free) latte (with BSE-free-range milk) is going to save the world. The contribution is swamped by a machine that needs to be hammered to death, so a new industry can evolve.

---

But enough of my dark thinking...that's so 2007...here's a cheerful thought: Jeremy Clarkson might fall down a melty ice crag. See, isn't that better? :-)

Happy New Year Jeremy, it's probably going to be a whole lot better than either of us think it might be.

Edited at 2007-12-31 21:47 (UTC)
cleanskies
2nd Jan, 2008 14:46 (UTC)
Meh, part of the crying is at me and my stupid inability to do these things, I'm just too well trained to be the self-sacrificing older sister who does without because there isn't enough to go round.
applez
31st Dec, 2007 21:48 (UTC)
Btw, Clarkson probably heard about this show, and thought he could prove his machismo sufficient for the job. [shakes head]
charleston
31st Dec, 2007 16:02 (UTC)
"It was execrable in the 80s..."
Love it, I'm gonna be singing that along every time now!

Is your latest dream going to come in comic strip format?
brixtonbrood
31st Dec, 2007 19:16 (UTC)
Still, the kids have the Sarah Jane Adventures now
And don't forget all-new Torchwood, the CBeebies cut!
I am getting actually quite excited by the Torchwood micro-trailers every five seconds. Is it the bronchitis sapping my brain do you think, or the effect of Strictly Come Dancing seven days a week for three months?
cleanskies
1st Jan, 2008 17:15 (UTC)
I can see it now. Torchwood invade the Night Garden.

I think the Bronchitis may have reaCHED YOUR BRAIN
( 8 worms — Feed the birds )