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Aha! My German penpal threw me a curveball by sending me an email in German. My vocabulary is exceedingly limited, so I've only translated the first two paragraphs thusfar. He's explaining a holiday similar to Thanksgiving of which I have never heard. So far, he's proven quite prolix and seems a bit besotted of Americans if not our culture. He seems to think we're friendlier than Germans, and more open; it's funny because he thinks that Americans are more genuine than Germans in their friendships, whereas I find that Germans are more reserved but more genuine in their friendships. Perhaps we have idealized each other's culture.
I'm still debating whether to watch CSI:NY or Supernatural tomorrow. Supernatural has proven more consistent in its quality than CSI:NY, but it also has a new showrunner this year, and judging by the spoilers coming down the pipeline like a fart through a sewer pipe, it runs a very high risk of turning into a fragrant, chewy patty of piping hot bullshit. Miss Gamble seems to be intent on wiping her ass with canon and the established rules of engagement(I don't care what bullshit she pulls, Samuel Winchester, Sr. was gutted like a fish and died at the end of "In the Beginning". Demons don't heal their meatsuits, and even healthy possessed people don't survive, as the dozens of hapless vessels Sam and Dean have failed to save can attest. If he did survive, why did he never contact Mary or reach out to her grandsons when she died? Obviously he didn't, because Dean had no knowledge of his paternal grandparents prior to Castiel's time-warp Tardis trip. And Mary was an only child, fuck you.), and I'm not looking forward to yet another season of Dean being asked to bend over and take it for Sam's sake and Sam simpering and whining about how hard it was for him, you don't understaaaaaaand, Dean, I was an asshole for your own good, and vacillating between emo guilt and petulant self-righteousness.
On the other hand, CSI:NY is a lock to be a muddled, incoherent, sloppy pile of WTF written by ADD-addled laboratory monkeys, with heave-inducing dollops of Lindsay angst, whiny, dickless Danny, uber-righteous Mactimony, a Flack who's taken grooming tips from slovenly Messer, and an Adam trotted out to be the bumbling comic relief. I am bound to develop a rage-induced facial tic and pound the keys of this laptop like a chimpanzee who got a dose of PCP up the pooper as I enumerate the show's endless litany of failure. And yet, the show is my pile of incomprehensible shit, and I feel a battered, stubborn sense of loyalty to it. It's like the slobbering, two-legged German Shepherd that no one wants to pet or play fetch with. It's flawed and pitiful, but bless it, it struggles gamely on, tail thumping hopefully as I pass.
I suppose I could wait to see what the buzz on the S6 premiere of SPN is before I commit to one or the other...
I'm still debating whether to watch CSI:NY or Supernatural tomorrow. Supernatural has proven more consistent in its quality than CSI:NY, but it also has a new showrunner this year, and judging by the spoilers coming down the pipeline like a fart through a sewer pipe, it runs a very high risk of turning into a fragrant, chewy patty of piping hot bullshit. Miss Gamble seems to be intent on wiping her ass with canon and the established rules of engagement(I don't care what bullshit she pulls, Samuel Winchester, Sr. was gutted like a fish and died at the end of "In the Beginning". Demons don't heal their meatsuits, and even healthy possessed people don't survive, as the dozens of hapless vessels Sam and Dean have failed to save can attest. If he did survive, why did he never contact Mary or reach out to her grandsons when she died? Obviously he didn't, because Dean had no knowledge of his paternal grandparents prior to Castiel's time-warp Tardis trip. And Mary was an only child, fuck you.), and I'm not looking forward to yet another season of Dean being asked to bend over and take it for Sam's sake and Sam simpering and whining about how hard it was for him, you don't understaaaaaaand, Dean, I was an asshole for your own good, and vacillating between emo guilt and petulant self-righteousness.
On the other hand, CSI:NY is a lock to be a muddled, incoherent, sloppy pile of WTF written by ADD-addled laboratory monkeys, with heave-inducing dollops of Lindsay angst, whiny, dickless Danny, uber-righteous Mactimony, a Flack who's taken grooming tips from slovenly Messer, and an Adam trotted out to be the bumbling comic relief. I am bound to develop a rage-induced facial tic and pound the keys of this laptop like a chimpanzee who got a dose of PCP up the pooper as I enumerate the show's endless litany of failure. And yet, the show is my pile of incomprehensible shit, and I feel a battered, stubborn sense of loyalty to it. It's like the slobbering, two-legged German Shepherd that no one wants to pet or play fetch with. It's flawed and pitiful, but bless it, it struggles gamely on, tail thumping hopefully as I pass.
I suppose I could wait to see what the buzz on the S6 premiere of SPN is before I commit to one or the other...
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