2013 — 30 April: Tuesday
It's another bright new day, with the sun well up for a change. I shall make my third1 attempt to close that pesky Santander current a/c this morning, but won't be repeating last week's mistake of attempting this well-nigh impossible task on an unbreakfasted tum. Mrs Hubbard's cupboard has developed a bit of an echo, too, that needs attention. But no rush. One should never hurry one's initial cuppa.
It might be trite...
... to say I understand, empathise and sympathise, but impossible to deny that I do. (Link.)
60?
I found this list delightful. Tiny snippet:
49. I abhor violence. It solves nothing. 50. Why, then, do I keep thinking that if I had two weeks left to live and just one decent throw of the arm left in me, oh man, I would really want to punch Iain Duncan Smith in the face.
I tried "Mad Men"...
... but didn't take to it. Perhaps this is why?
"Worst of all — in a drama with aspirations to treating social and historical 'issues' — the show is melodramatic rather than dramatic. By this I mean that it proceeds, for the most part,
like a soap opera, serially (and often unbelievably) generating, and then resolving, successive personal crises (adulteries, abortions, premarital pregnancies, interracial affairs, alcoholism and drug
addiction, etc.), rather than exploring, by means of believable conflicts between personality and situation, the contemporary social and cultural phenomena it regards with such fascination: sexism,
misogyny, social hypocrisy, racism, the counterculture, and so forth."
This is a critic at the top of his game, a few deft strokes forcing you to reassess your own judgment — and not in a purely "like" or "dislike" sense — of a show, one that comes bedecked with
awards and other tokens of critics' adoration.
Vanderbilt goes on to contrast that criticism with the review deemed (on Netflix) "most helpful" by 393 out of 394 viewers at the time. I won't bother to quote from it :-)
Having (finally) severed...
... all remaining ties with the Spanish bank, and refilled portions of the foodie cupboard, I'm now free to turn my unused cheques into paper airplanes. Or enjoy some 'lemonses'. I pick the latter.
Are you mad?
It's bright sunshine out there. Yes, and your point is...? My point is... why are you stuck inside slaving over a hot scanner? Why not?