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thisbluespiritI've finally finished watching Public Eye S6, so hopefully I can start to talk to people about things that aren't it soon. I did get rather tired because of rl stuff. (For some reason, I always suffer from stress when I have to visit the doctor, which is annoying, because then I can't even tell her things properly. It's mainly to do with the fact that i can't prove I'm ill in any way, so if she decided to stop believing me, I'd be stuffed, I think. So I was glad to have something to watch when I came back.)
Anyway, the wretched thing also had me waking up repeatedly for two nights in the past week trying to understand what was going on in the episode, and being terrified of one of them. I should have known last night to wait before watching the final episode, it being by Roger Marshall, but I did, and then, aargh, it slapped me in the face with stuff I did not want right at the last minute. I get impressed by it, I get amused, baffled, informed (I had no idea there were ever milk vending machines in the 1970s) and then I get madly angry and shocked with it for being... made in the 1960s/70s and letting itself down. I don't know how it does that to me. Or how-why-what is TV that doesn't have Alfred Burke in?
Also... the episode "The Man Who Said Sorry" - I feel as if I've seen the ending of it before, but I can't think how. I can imagine it being the sort of thing that would have turned up one way or another on those endless Channel 4 nostalgia/Top 100 things they used to do, but I don't understand why I would have had the same feeling of mystification about the suitcase. Maybe it was only because that was the one I dreamt about all night until my brain had worked out the suitcase in the morning. But still... Strange. Maybe something else used a similar device accidentally or in direct homage? (It is a very clever, weird and twisted up episode of TV - an isolated two-hander between Paul Rogers and Alfred Burke - who are both excellent in it - that takes place almost entirely in Marker's office. And kudos to the director, Jonathan Alwyn, because there's such a palpable sense of threat throughout, yet it's never exactly justified by what's happening.)
So, hopefully now, I can catch up a bit and do other things again. (I can't have the next series till after Christmas, and that's the end of it. I suspect now they burninated the 60s episodes for my protection, which is a bit mean on everyone else, but probably fair enough. Maybe.)
I shall now try and turn my attention fully to Yuletide fic and the talking meme and being capable of talking about things that aren't obscure British TV. Well, ish. I always talk about some obscure British TV...
ETA: Also I didn't get hit by a tidal wave, though that was probably self-evident from the rest of the post. I hope nobody else did, either. (The sea came in over the defences, which is very unusual here, especially since they've just been building them up, but no worse.)
Anyway, the wretched thing also had me waking up repeatedly for two nights in the past week trying to understand what was going on in the episode, and being terrified of one of them. I should have known last night to wait before watching the final episode, it being by Roger Marshall, but I did, and then, aargh, it slapped me in the face with stuff I did not want right at the last minute. I get impressed by it, I get amused, baffled, informed (I had no idea there were ever milk vending machines in the 1970s) and then I get madly angry and shocked with it for being... made in the 1960s/70s and letting itself down. I don't know how it does that to me. Or how-why-what is TV that doesn't have Alfred Burke in?
Also... the episode "The Man Who Said Sorry" - I feel as if I've seen the ending of it before, but I can't think how. I can imagine it being the sort of thing that would have turned up one way or another on those endless Channel 4 nostalgia/Top 100 things they used to do, but I don't understand why I would have had the same feeling of mystification about the suitcase. Maybe it was only because that was the one I dreamt about all night until my brain had worked out the suitcase in the morning. But still... Strange. Maybe something else used a similar device accidentally or in direct homage? (It is a very clever, weird and twisted up episode of TV - an isolated two-hander between Paul Rogers and Alfred Burke - who are both excellent in it - that takes place almost entirely in Marker's office. And kudos to the director, Jonathan Alwyn, because there's such a palpable sense of threat throughout, yet it's never exactly justified by what's happening.)
So, hopefully now, I can catch up a bit and do other things again. (I can't have the next series till after Christmas, and that's the end of it. I suspect now they burninated the 60s episodes for my protection, which is a bit mean on everyone else, but probably fair enough. Maybe.)
I shall now try and turn my attention fully to Yuletide fic and the talking meme and being capable of talking about things that aren't obscure British TV. Well, ish. I always talk about some obscure British TV...
ETA: Also I didn't get hit by a tidal wave, though that was probably self-evident from the rest of the post. I hope nobody else did, either. (The sea came in over the defences, which is very unusual here, especially since they've just been building them up, but no worse.)
no subject
Date: 8 Dec 2013 05:10 pm (UTC)(Ironically, though, I am fine when I have to go and see the nurse and have blood tests - that's okay! Well, I'm squeamish so I ask to lie and down and I look the other way, but it doesn't stress me out at all, like talking about ME and being afraid people won't understand or believe me and worrying about whether I am just some messed up hypochondriac... I wish someone would find a cure! It's a stupid illness to have, though not the worst, of course.)
\o/
no subject
Date: 9 Dec 2013 03:36 pm (UTC)My old practice nurse used to shove the needle right into my arm and if she didn't find the vein she'd have to do it again, argh!