Home Is Where The Hatred Is
Prizes galore - okay, pint for when I see you - to whoever guesses (no, there will be no searching on google) whose song is the title of this post. And...has anyone noticed the musical references to some of the other posts' titles on Reidski's blog?
Come on, tnr, I know you know.
Anyway, the title tonight refers to my deep domestic depression, which is only ebbed by visits to work, to play badminton and to the gym.
Things between Reidski and the boy are not going well, although they did perk up a bit when I took him to see the mighty Celtic put on an entertaining show at Fulham on Sunday - but 90 minutes of fun in an otherwise shitty few days is not good enough.
Two bright spots on the cultural front at the moment.
One, still making my way through the entire works of George P Pelecanos at the moment, having, in the last week, finished both Shame The Devil and Shoedog. While the latter is certainly not anywhere near his best, the former is a classic. The thing about Pelecanos is not just the great noir crime writer that he is, but also the street smart and progressive outlook in his books - to say nothing of the excellent musical references. I'll revisit this post soon and link it to his website...this man is definitely on the side of the angels.
The second cultural wonder of the past week is the fact that 'er indoors and Reidski are currently working our way through the second series of Six Feet Under on DVD. Totally missed the first series, passing us by as the classic TV that it is.
But, after buying a friend the first series on video (remember them?) we thought: "Must watch the rest."
This has meant a long wait for second series to come out on DVD, with, meanwhile, third series having been broadcoast, which we had taped from TV.
With fourth series about to hit our screens any day now (is this all sounding rather confusing?), it has meant rapid watching of DVD - 10 episodes in the last week alone - with third series to follow in rapid fashion.
Everything about this programme is excellent - acting, directing, writing and the rest.
If anyone posts a comment that includes what happens next, in the words of the Pixies: "You fuckin die!"
Come on, cheer me up you motherf******!
posted by Reidski @ 11:42 pm
7 Comments:
Missed it completely, never saw n episode. You reckon its good then?
Re song reference I have no idea, I'd make a silly stab at PJ Harvey or someat like that. But there you go I now look up Google and discover its either Gil Scott Heron or Esther Phillips. My guess is you went for the GSH version. Saw bit of programme on BBC2 on Friday Night Saturday/Morning but fell asleep.
Re the song titles I would have gone with that too, but Occupied Country pretty much has that as his trade mark.
You must tell us what's up between you and the boy. Don't like the sound of TNR. Times New Roman is my worst typeface. "The wife"? Perlease tell me it's post modern irony.
Gil Scott Heron, indeed. Classic songwriter - and his dad played for Celtic in the '50s, believe it or not!
Six Feet Under is the best thing on tele since, well...let's go for Our Friends in the North.
Anonymous, there is indeed post-modern irony at work there, but, nonetheless, when people get married, one is thewife and the other is thehusband! Don't mock young love. And certainly don't mock one of my oldest and best friends!
And, before I forget, times new roman is the ONLY typeface that I ever use in letters, so you can flip right off, anonymous!
Times New Roman, classic font, although I personally never use it. TNR as a title is clearly far more pretentious than the font, as it tips its hat towards an almost Trashcan Sinatra-like wordplay. thewife, lower case, single word, classic example of your post-post-modern irony there, that and the stunning use of bright coloured background, a squeal of bastard dutch if you like, muted with the dull banality of gray. Is there an award I could recommend TNR for?
Bored Aesthete.
What's all this post modern shite Reidski.?
I knew that one.
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