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alexsarllSome further thoughts on Doctor Who:
On Sunday, the top of the up escalator at Bermondsey station was doing the Sound of Drums...diggerdydum, diggerdydum, diggerdydum...
Never mind getting Widdecombe to endorse Saxon - they should do a whole episode with Lembit Opik as himself, teaming up with the Doctor to avert some asteroid-related threat. I'm sure he'd be up for it.
The design of the Citadel confirmed me in my suspicion that Arthur C. Clarke's The City and the Stars was a significant influence on the portrayal of Gallifrey.
I really hope they at least leave enough unsaid about the Paradox machine that unreconstructed geeks such as myself can tie it in to the marvellous Faction Paradox lunacy of the books.
It was bad enough having Johnson from Peep Show in Hyde, but now Super Hans is working for him! It's a grand week for TV, though, isn't it? This and Who, two episodes of Rome, and on Friday, the return of The Shield, the one other cop show which, if not The Wire's equal (what is?), can at least look it in the eye. Oh, and last night BBC4 decided, for some opaque and unguessable reason, to show the delightful Yes, Minister special in which Jim Hacker ascends, unopposed, to Prime Ministership, following it with a documentary about ex-PMs. The most remarkable detail of this was how much enhanced John Major looks nowadays; he's more charismatic, happier, the voice less nasal, even the upper lip less offputting. The voiceover concluded that every PM, secretly, would love to return to running the show, but in everything Major said, every twinkle in his eye, you could tell that he really wouldn't. He's been there, done that, and concluded that he really does much prefer the cricket.
I am otherwise musing on the peculiar obscurity of Weird Al Yankovic's UHF (which really should be considered in the mainstream of eighties American teen comedies, rather than as a cult oddity), the sheer manliness of Glengarry Glen Ross (arguably even more male than Conan the Barbarian, the otherwise unchallenged champion), and the utter Englishness of W.Somerset Maugham selling his soul to Aleister Crowley for worldly success, and then grudging him £50 once Crowley was on his uppers.
On Sunday, the top of the up escalator at Bermondsey station was doing the Sound of Drums...diggerdydum, diggerdydum, diggerdydum...
Never mind getting Widdecombe to endorse Saxon - they should do a whole episode with Lembit Opik as himself, teaming up with the Doctor to avert some asteroid-related threat. I'm sure he'd be up for it.
The design of the Citadel confirmed me in my suspicion that Arthur C. Clarke's The City and the Stars was a significant influence on the portrayal of Gallifrey.
I really hope they at least leave enough unsaid about the Paradox machine that unreconstructed geeks such as myself can tie it in to the marvellous Faction Paradox lunacy of the books.
It was bad enough having Johnson from Peep Show in Hyde, but now Super Hans is working for him! It's a grand week for TV, though, isn't it? This and Who, two episodes of Rome, and on Friday, the return of The Shield, the one other cop show which, if not The Wire's equal (what is?), can at least look it in the eye. Oh, and last night BBC4 decided, for some opaque and unguessable reason, to show the delightful Yes, Minister special in which Jim Hacker ascends, unopposed, to Prime Ministership, following it with a documentary about ex-PMs. The most remarkable detail of this was how much enhanced John Major looks nowadays; he's more charismatic, happier, the voice less nasal, even the upper lip less offputting. The voiceover concluded that every PM, secretly, would love to return to running the show, but in everything Major said, every twinkle in his eye, you could tell that he really wouldn't. He's been there, done that, and concluded that he really does much prefer the cricket.
I am otherwise musing on the peculiar obscurity of Weird Al Yankovic's UHF (which really should be considered in the mainstream of eighties American teen comedies, rather than as a cult oddity), the sheer manliness of Glengarry Glen Ross (arguably even more male than Conan the Barbarian, the otherwise unchallenged champion), and the utter Englishness of W.Somerset Maugham selling his soul to Aleister Crowley for worldly success, and then grudging him £50 once Crowley was on his uppers.
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Date: 2007-06-26 08:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 06:25 pm (UTC)