My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

Ah, Friday. Last night was the last of Sharpe, alas. And I damn nearly missed it, too, because I was so tired that even though I was thinking about Sharpe, the thought that I was supposed to be actually watching him on telly took a while to intersect. I'd even forgotten Paul Bettany was in it, and how on earth could I forget that, when I even spent an afternoon capping him in it? [shakes head]. Poor old noggin: well past its useby date.
( more: there's no badge down there, Sammy-boy )

It's a minor Philip Glenister fest. There he was in Silent Witness on Wednesday, and last night, well, it were Sharpe's Justice. There was our lad, being all golden haired and shouty and angry (big stretch there - grin) and, good grief, Sharpe's long lost half brother. Not that Sharpe seemed much bothered, one way or the other.

It's kind of hard to bash out a mini essay, because unlike LOM, I feel like I've already said everything I've had to say about this episode before. There's the industrial unrest and the references to Peterloo, the Austen ripoffs homages with Wickham, the brief return of Lady Anne and the continuing saga of Jane and Rossendale.
( more: up the workers! )

Okay, I'm going to rehash bits of private correspondence because, alas, I don't really have the time or brain cells today for more than one thought.

The conversation started, as so many things to, with the Gene Genie. Still on the mythology thread, this time various pages leading us towards Mars. Neither planet, nor song, nor perky blonde teen detective, but the old god of war. But not just war. Mars has protective and even peace keeping aspects, albeit peace keeping with a capital PK.

Amusingly enough, in Britain, Mars was often found in combination with or sharing the guise of local Celtic gods, including our old friend Cernunnos, the god of the hunt. I have officially lost count of the number of times any of our crackpot theories, and not just the mythological ones, but the film and literary themes as well, lead back to old hornhead. So there, again, is the Huntsman reference, this time associated with Mars. Mars = Hunt.

Everything comes back to the Hunt. I'm starting to no longer care how the writers came up with the name now. They invoked him and now they've got him. Spooky how it always keeps twisting back to the Hunter, though. I can definitely see Gene as Mars. There's also the whole play on Mars thing too (Life on Mars? Field of Mars?). Is it a planet, a person, an aspect or a state of being? Gene = Mars?
( more: the green man )

I was watching Wire in The Blood on UKTV the other day and I was thinking upon how, in the 90s, you weren't a cop show unless you had a profiler on board. Then it became all about forensics. I was hoping that Life on Mars might bring it back to being all about fast cars slamming into carboard boxes, sliding across bonnets and slamming suspects into walls.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because, according to The Independent, they're bringing back The Professionals. Yay? I mean, as much as I try to forget, that putrid remake still lurks around the edges of my consciousness, like a mould that won't shift from the corner of the bathroom. Still, if it was a little more Life on Mars and a little less New Avengers, this time around, we might be lucky.

And before you start lecturing me about how right wing the Profs were, I never knew it at the time. When I were lass, it was all cut up on the local station and all we ever saw were car chases, sliding across bonnets and slamming suspects into walls. A proper cop show, in other words. As to the plot? Plot, what plot? I only saw the plots when I bought the dvd sets back from Britain a couple of years ago. And I was stunned, I can tell you. It was another show. Not the one I remembered at all.
( more: angry young men, grumpy old farts and men behaving badly )