....which in my case, unaided by a pair of glasses I can from about 20 yards away, and as it's been over two years since I last had my eyes tested, I thought it was about time to have my rheumy peepers checked out. If you're apt to follow popular (mis)conceptions then opticians, along with dentists, are two professions where it is allegedly common to have work done where none is needed, thus generating more income for your white coated practitioner.
Well today Boots Opticians restored a little bit of faith in one of those two professions at least. I was told that my ocular prescription has remained almost unchanged since late 2008, and although I could be asked to get new glasses, the difference I would notice would be so minimal as to make it not worth my while. Marvellous!
..............................................................................................
My right ring finger will remain in a cast for this week and possibly for next week too, depending on how much straighter it is by Friday. So far there has been a 10 degree improvement - woohoo! The obvious question folk ask when seeing it is "How did you do that?" Tiring of saying I have Dupuytren's Contracture followed by an explanation of the condition, here are a few differing reasons, some of which I've used...
1. I broke it skiing down our road during the December snow storms.
2. It broke during a frenzied desk top calculator session on 31st January in order to get a client's accounts finished in time. No, really.
3. I broke it after I got my arm stuck behind a radiator while attempting to retrieve a plectrum. I also have burn marks on my arm - do you want to see them?
4. My finger got caught in the cat's collar, and she jumped off the arm of the chair - crack - ouch!
5. Punching a garden gnome.
6. Slapping a Tory MP.
7. I broke it playing Water Polo.
8. It broke while vigorously kneading dough.
Which do you think I've used?
.............................................................................................
While writing this I've been listening to current flavour of the month The Boxer Rebellion. Meh.....ok in parts, a bit formless...they can't write a tune...
.............................................................................................
Anybody watched BBC1's sci-fi thriller The Outcasts last night? I thought it was quite good and shows some promise. Perhaps the Brits can make serious modern sci fi drama for adults after all? Battlestar Galactica's Jamie Bamber (I keep wanting to call him Jeremy!) was in it as a barking mad military type with the suitably macho name of Mitchell Hoban who leads an expeditionary force to explore the hinterland, and wants to set up a splinter survivalist group away from the prying eyes of President Tate (Liam Cunningham). I say Bamber "was" in it because he's been offed IN THE FIRST EPISODE! Unless there's flashbacks coming, or he plays his son sometime in the future, that's your lot.
Set in 2040, mankind has developed interstellar travel, and the inhabitants of colony planet Carpathia have been there for 10 years, implying that faster than light travel has been around at least since 2030, a mere 19 years away. The fact that technology has advanced to such an extent in such a short space of time is so far the only Dr Who-like techno bollocks leap of faith in the show. OK, we've also got a device called Deep Brain Visualisation that can project your thoughts and memories on screen, but somehow this is more believable than the faster than light bit.
Living in a city of piled Portacabins and dressed in semi-dirty sundry shades of army surplus, our heroes are eking out a fairly joyless existence, and had they washed out the colour a bit more you could indeed have been watching Battlestar Galactica, given the projected level of grimness. The colonists soon hear that the final rescue ship is about to arrive from a nuclear war benighted Earth, and on board is the daughter of head of security Dr Stella Isen (the wonderfully fierce Hermione Norris). Earlier ships have burned up in the atmosphere, and so does this one, cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth. But....there appear to be survivors as we see an escape pod parachuting to ground at the end.
A decent enough start, I'll stick with it.
..............................................................................................
I probably won't stick with Sky Living's Bedlam though. At last starting to use some of their obscene profits to make new drama, Sky have come up with this load of supernatural hosreshit. Set in a luxury block of apartments converted from, you've guessed it. an old mental asylum, or "loony bin" as it would have been known, this unpromising piece of real estate is of course haunted by the ghosts of former inmates.
The main characters are a bunch of unlikeable self-obsessed twenty somethings, one of whom (Ryan) is played straight by former warbler Will Young - he must be a thirty something by now surely? The central character Jed (Theo James - nope, me neither) is sent charging around rescuing damsels and guys in distress from ghosties and ghoulies. He is alerted to imminent danger by being sent text messages from the ether, which say things like SAVE KATE SAVE KATE ad infinitum. In the past he's been "in the bin" himself as his ability to see spooks was naturally enough misinterpreted as certifiable madness. He also forgets to wear a shirt most of the time. In a similar state of permanent semi nude is said Kate (Charlotte Salt - ?), Jed's cousin, who even almost shags Will Young at one point.
I digress. If this week's horror movie clichés are anything to go by - malevolent spirits attempting to drown our Katie in the bath, green slime pouring down the walls - it's a clunker! Obviously aimed at the Being Human market it misses by a good few rattles of the chains I can tell you.
..............................................................................................
No comments:
Post a Comment