Another Show Hits the Heap, a Fic Pimp, and a Question for Stellaluna_

First and foremost, I must thank stroppy_prof for her belated birthday package of sweets and tea and a wicked little book. It arrived the day before yesterday, shoved haphazardly into the package locker. I've sampled the chocolates, of course. Thusfar, the Curly Wurlys are my favorites.

I'm delighted by the illustrations in the Ambrose Bierce Illustrated Devil's Dictionary, but I've not yet read the definitions. Maybe tonight, while Roomie is immersed in his online wrestling RP.

Thank you, my fairy tea mother! I'll ping you on Y!M on Saturday.~snug~


It's official; I'm done with Without a Trace. The show has declined precipitously over the past three seasons, but last night's bait and switch was the last straw. To market the entire episode on the premise that Danny shot an unarmed kid and kept it a secret(as implied by the giant, red SECRET plastered on the screen) and then cram that "bombshell revelation" into twenty seconds with Elena was cheap and stupid. I know that TV is a manipulative medium by nature, drawing us into worlds and lives that don't exist, but the bait-and-switch is of a type singularly crass. If you're going to give a character a Big, Bad, Shameful Secret, give them the secret. Don't creep up to the line and then refuse to cross it because you don't want the viewers to take down their Character A posters and rename their battery-operated boyfriend.

Speaking of stupid, whoever decided to linger on Poppy Montgomery's pregnancy-puffed, pancaked face in the closing shot was a moron. It's painfully clear that she's not "just pregnant"; in fact, she looks early second trimester at least and forty-five to boot. Thank God I won't be around to watch the baby drama.


stellaluna_ said something in her "Down the Rabbit Hole" review that made my heart drop. She mentioned the impending proliferation of...cross-platform promotion. It was inevitable, I suppose, but I can't help my chagrin. Not because I'm a Luddite, or because I'm sure it signals the death of TV as an effective creative medium, but because I won't be able to participate in the trend, which is clearly predicated on the assumption that everyone has access to the requisite technology or the means to acquire it. It assumes an upper-middle-class model.

But not everyone lives the Friends lifestyle. I have a nine-year-old computer with dialup access, an analog TV with basic cable, and no cell phone. It's what I can afford. So where do I fit in this emerging entertainment paradigm? Is it going to get to the point where I cannot watch my favorite programs because I can't afford to follow them across three platforms of interaction? Is it going to get to the point where everything-even temporary deliverance from one's misery-is for the rich?

Lastly, another pimp for Part IV of Et Tu. In this installment, Flack attends his first gala.