December 29th, 2006


greetings from the sofa

Well, so much for the Buzz Aldren opera -- he landed on the moon! and all we end up doing is wittering on about communion and affairs and vague unfulfilledness in endless swathes of conversational soprano. Bah! I got bored and started paying the Judge Dredd Megazine christmas special* rather more attention and almost missed him landing on the moon (not helped by a needlessly convoluted time structure) -- not that they made a really big thing about it, instead chosing to concentrate on his endless wittering 1950s homelife. Dull! Now, an opera based on the life of Yuri Gagarin, that would be more ... well. Operatic.

Tivo had also scavenged me the Horror Channel repeating the climactic season finale, part 2, of Urban Gothic, second series, which I never caught the first time round. Who's that blond man? Why is he kissing the Demon Headmaster? And why is that taxi driver eating a dog? Oh, the Horror Channel. If only I had time to watch it all. I'd enjoy it a lot more than Torchwood, that's for sure. Here's my version of the secene where the improbably buff welsh yuppie ostentatiously changes his shirt:

Creepy Owen: So, basically ... like Fight Club, then. Except with aliens! Oh, did I say aliens? (guffaws while attempting unconvincingly to act like a human being)
Improbably Buff Welsh Yuppie: (pouts) Yes, alright, like Fight Club, then.
CO: Except really, luv -- nice pecs and all, but you're no Brad Pitt.
IBWY: And you're no Edward Norton, but the boss says you're hot, so you're getting a blowjob.
CO: What, again? (mugs hilariously at the tied-up weevil)
IBWY: (shrugs) It's what The Viewing Public demands.
The Viewing Public (off): Dear God No Put It Away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Doctor Who Christmas Special was alright, though, so I forgive Russel T. For now. Bit mawkish at the end, but hey -- it's christmas. Some comment about how he clearly likes them dumb led to the speculation that for the Doctor, telling smart and dumb humans apart is a bit like us trying to differentiate between stupid and clever dogs. It really plays second fiddle to them having a good nature. And anyway, apparently when I'm grumbling about all this emotion nonsense cluttering up my Sci Fi I sound like somebody's dad, so I'll shut up now.

Except Hogfather. Dear God, it was ponderously shot. Come on, people! Farce! Death's not really going to stand out when everyone's talking like a slowed down acting lesson, is he? Gorgeous looking, though. And a quantity of the jokes made it through. The decision to make Mr Teatime "like Michael Jackson" struck me as being in poor taste, though. I'd imagined him somehow as more ... like himself.

On Christmas Day itself, I watched The Wizard of Oz. When you've got cable, you can always find it playing somewhere. It was the singalong version but I'd been to midnight mass the night before so (with the exception of "can you even dye my eyes to match my gown? UH-huh!") I managed to resist. God, it's creepy. You forget.

I missed the interesting looking new animation of Peter and the Wolf, though, because it was on Channel 4 and therefore only shown ONCE because they needed to put on endless bloody repeats of the bloody Snowman instead. Anyone catch it? Was it any good?

In other news, my Hollyhocks are still flowering. I wonder if they'll make it all the way to 2006?

* Top Judge Dredd story. Really captured the Christmas spirit.
  • Current Mood