Lost
It's time to own up. Cousin and I have been spending the past 10-odd evenings racing through episode after episode of abc's mind-numbingly cryptic desert island series, and last night we reached the end of series one.
Today, our minds reel with questions. Who are the others? Why hasn't Hurley lost weight? How come they're all so impossibly hot? What's up with the baby? And when, goddam it, will Jack and Freckles EVER GET IT ON?
Sorry, but in the twilight, with the rain lashing at our windows and beaches not dissimilar to the ones depicted on my laptop screen just around the corner, the boundaries between what's real and what's fictional blur... In fact, I swear I saw Sawyer driving a red pick-up truck past my taxi on the way in to work.
This is all just as well, however, as South African television leaves a lot to be desired. Of course, having been spoiled by the BBC et al (who, let's face it, do the best TV on Earth, largely due to the complete shitness of the weather and the general misanthrophy of the population) I am falling from a lofty height...
In fact, I think I just won't bother with getting a TV for my new flat. I've turned Cousin's on every now and then, only to see the United Colours of Benetton slugging it out in about three different languages (one of which involves clicking your tongue) in the ubiquitous soaps that litter the channels.
Then there's your usual american relity TV nonsense, and some unintelligible chat shows where a black magic priest, a lawyer and a christian preacher will battle it out over some gruesome topic like child abuse, managing to do nothing more than to illustrate the entrenched positions of the vastly different cultures that inhabit this country side by side.
I've now written a job description for the reporter that will join me, hopefully from August. It will be advertised as soon as possible, and I'll do interviews in the last two weeks of June, just after the first issue is published. It's another thing I've never done before, but how hard can it be? Interviewing, I can do.
Still haven't heard from the Today programme about my interview. Maybe the whole Blair leaving furore took precedence. That's too bad, but these things happen. "That's showbusiness" as my Guardian editor used to say.
So heaven knows what my Cousin and I will do from now on with our evenings. At least until you can spend them on the beach again, which is a good three months! Maybe we can start a knitting club, or something.
Today, our minds reel with questions. Who are the others? Why hasn't Hurley lost weight? How come they're all so impossibly hot? What's up with the baby? And when, goddam it, will Jack and Freckles EVER GET IT ON?
Sorry, but in the twilight, with the rain lashing at our windows and beaches not dissimilar to the ones depicted on my laptop screen just around the corner, the boundaries between what's real and what's fictional blur... In fact, I swear I saw Sawyer driving a red pick-up truck past my taxi on the way in to work.
This is all just as well, however, as South African television leaves a lot to be desired. Of course, having been spoiled by the BBC et al (who, let's face it, do the best TV on Earth, largely due to the complete shitness of the weather and the general misanthrophy of the population) I am falling from a lofty height...
In fact, I think I just won't bother with getting a TV for my new flat. I've turned Cousin's on every now and then, only to see the United Colours of Benetton slugging it out in about three different languages (one of which involves clicking your tongue) in the ubiquitous soaps that litter the channels.
Then there's your usual american relity TV nonsense, and some unintelligible chat shows where a black magic priest, a lawyer and a christian preacher will battle it out over some gruesome topic like child abuse, managing to do nothing more than to illustrate the entrenched positions of the vastly different cultures that inhabit this country side by side.
I've now written a job description for the reporter that will join me, hopefully from August. It will be advertised as soon as possible, and I'll do interviews in the last two weeks of June, just after the first issue is published. It's another thing I've never done before, but how hard can it be? Interviewing, I can do.
Still haven't heard from the Today programme about my interview. Maybe the whole Blair leaving furore took precedence. That's too bad, but these things happen. "That's showbusiness" as my Guardian editor used to say.
So heaven knows what my Cousin and I will do from now on with our evenings. At least until you can spend them on the beach again, which is a good three months! Maybe we can start a knitting club, or something.
posted by Linda at 10:14
3 Comments:
Ah yes, the lives of lost, I'm pretty sure that Lock came wheeling past me at the lights this morning on my way to work? Maybe the island is infecting us too? :)
Well a big hello from cousin 2, currently sitting my exams in the frightfully exciting metropole that is Norwich... wooo... just in case you're wondering weather here is **** and it seems that everyone but me has finished exams and are busy numbing their minds with sweet sweet alcohol... how i loathe them... oh well come June the 5th my two month long hibernation in the depths of the law library will be over and I to can enjoy the conforts of sitting on my arse, doing nothing and watching Lost!
Hello cousin two! Welcome to the me-space! Good luck with your exams and don't do anything I wouldn't after they're over... ;-)
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