Sore throat's just an excuse to watch good TV
I like the cold, clean air, but fuck this chilly wind! I think mum did me huge favour by getting me that ugly coat. At least it's warm. I think I'll thank her again, just to be sure.
My throat feels like it's been sand-papered, but that might also be because I went to a protest yesterday and shouted my voice hoarse in the wind. Not that any shouting or tottering about in front of the townhall did any good, TPTB decided that they won't put the underground parking lot question to general vote. Lots of bullshit reasons, like how the matter was on the table in the last elections and people had the chance then to vote for pro or anti candidates. Do they actually believe that our memories are that short? And what the hell can you do when the Social Democrats are either windmills or just plain old turncoat bastards? Bleh. We'll see who'll end up footing the bill for this fool's errand.
I nursed my throat today by drinking hot liquids and watching Millennium's first season. I've always kind of overlooked it in favour of the second season, but I'm really starting to see how enjoyable it is on its own. My earlier problem with it has been that it had so little of the meta plot and the occultism/christian mythology of second season and that it lacked my favourite character, Lara Means, a Millenium Group consultant with similar abilities to Frank Black's. The first season is mainly content to deliver finely crafted one-shot episodes of murderers, serial killers and psychopaths with deliciously twisted motives and M.O.'s, peppered with only small hints of the religious tones that took over the show on the second season. Something really clicked on the first season, because they tried to go back to that on the third one and it resulted in cancellation. I loved Millennium, loved it even more than The X-Files, but even I wasn't sorry to see it go, they fucked it up that bad.
By the way, looking at the winners of the 2008 World Press Photo of the Year contest, there's interesting similarity in two of the pictures depicting eviction. I probably had the typical first worlder reaction, I was surprised to see that an American police officer would be evicting somebody out of their foreclosed home with a drawn handgun. Were things really so dire, so inhumane, I wondered. Um. Yeah. The second eviction picture brought me right back to nice, stark reality. Or maybe I'm just easily surprised.
My throat feels like it's been sand-papered, but that might also be because I went to a protest yesterday and shouted my voice hoarse in the wind. Not that any shouting or tottering about in front of the townhall did any good, TPTB decided that they won't put the underground parking lot question to general vote. Lots of bullshit reasons, like how the matter was on the table in the last elections and people had the chance then to vote for pro or anti candidates. Do they actually believe that our memories are that short? And what the hell can you do when the Social Democrats are either windmills or just plain old turncoat bastards? Bleh. We'll see who'll end up footing the bill for this fool's errand.
I nursed my throat today by drinking hot liquids and watching Millennium's first season. I've always kind of overlooked it in favour of the second season, but I'm really starting to see how enjoyable it is on its own. My earlier problem with it has been that it had so little of the meta plot and the occultism/christian mythology of second season and that it lacked my favourite character, Lara Means, a Millenium Group consultant with similar abilities to Frank Black's. The first season is mainly content to deliver finely crafted one-shot episodes of murderers, serial killers and psychopaths with deliciously twisted motives and M.O.'s, peppered with only small hints of the religious tones that took over the show on the second season. Something really clicked on the first season, because they tried to go back to that on the third one and it resulted in cancellation. I loved Millennium, loved it even more than The X-Files, but even I wasn't sorry to see it go, they fucked it up that bad.
By the way, looking at the winners of the 2008 World Press Photo of the Year contest, there's interesting similarity in two of the pictures depicting eviction. I probably had the typical first worlder reaction, I was surprised to see that an American police officer would be evicting somebody out of their foreclosed home with a drawn handgun. Were things really so dire, so inhumane, I wondered. Um. Yeah. The second eviction picture brought me right back to nice, stark reality. Or maybe I'm just easily surprised.