The case for the case

Since it seems I'm giving insomnia another spin, I might as well get this one out too:

I've recently found myself defending Dollhouse on several fronts (friends, reputable sites, etc.). Or rather: distancing myself from it outwardly, while trying to diffuse - and hopefully invalidate - the criticisms in my own head. Finally, after seing this, obviously sympathetic, strip, and reading the accompanying commentary, I asked myself: what do I really think about the show? Do I truly sort of like it already? Or is it just a kneejerk reaction, springing from some bizarre loyalty to Joss Whedon? Maybe I'm simply unable to acknowledge this apparently obvious suckage?

The answer came fairly quickly: I will keep watching it - and not as an "expression of gratitude" for his previous works, but simply because a lot of the "other things I can do with my Goddamn television" aren't really worth doing. There's just too much stuff out there, and I'm really tired of endlessly wading through shit to find something memorable. In a world where even the most promising concepts (Psychic bumpkins? Vampires in Louisiana? HBO? Yay!) can turn into borderline hilarious soft porn when made flesh, groping blindly has lost a lot of its allure. So I'm gonna stick with Whedon until Dollhouse gets cancelled, just like I'm probably gonna stick with whatever the guys who made The Wire or Slings and Arrows do next. I just like my chances better with them.

Due diligence

I topped off my stomach flu with a dash of regular flu. Why not be thorough while you're at it?

Turns out I won't be moving out in May, which... well, it did not make me feel great. I had already started making preliminary plans, checking out public transport, etc. I think I really need a tangible proof of progress, of not being stuck in a rut. Especially since it's become apparent that I've not yet fully escaped the death-grip of November. I know it's just a matter of being distracted by some shiny object in more immediate vicinity, but Warsaw isn't exactly sparkling at this time of year. Although - funny story... Except it's not and I seriously hope history isn't repeating itself.

I reacted to the news by having a dream in which I discovered that I'd had a comb-over for the past several years, but it was getting totally ridiculous and I had to decide what to do with it. I'm sure Freud would have a field day with it.

How do I finish this one... obviously this wasn't a fun couple of days, but things aren't really that bad? Sounds about right.

My Bridget moment

Yesterday's menu: warm water. Lots of it.
Today's menu: vanilla yoghurt, two slices of bread.

I'm filled with revulsion at the mere thought of a warm meal, but woke up craving French Toast. I think my stomach is still trying to discover what it is after this ordeal.

Save the mammals

Today in "people I hope will never fall off the face of the Earth" - Sharon Stone. I've no real reason to, but I totally dig her. Prompted by this little gem.

Day of the Devil

The universe obviously had some issues with me today. Woke up. Noticed the computer's off (ergo: power shortage). Turned it on. No internet. An hour of fiddling with the router later I was back online, but feeling like a stressed-out zombie.

Went to the train station, picked up some package, and delivered it to a nearby office, despite the absurd security protocols (someone had to authorize my trip to the 5th floor). Then it turned out my favorite pizza provider would only deliver food in an hour or so. Then they ran out of take-out containers at the Turkish place. Came back home, ate something, fell asleep for 4 hours. In the meanwhile mother started puking her guts out. Food poisoning.

It's 1:30am. Work done today: writing 4 emails. The exertion nearly pushed me into another coma. Let tomorrow be better.

Edit: It's 6:15am. Just got up to barf.

Oh, I almost forgot

Voracious!

As I was looking for this image (told ya!) I happened upon something nearly as delightful. Click here (possibly a bit NSFW) for a stunning example of image/caption cohesion. Frankly, I don't know why they even bothered with text - the photo conveys the message so perfectly.

State of the Series

The Dollhouse premiere actually exceeded my expectations. I was very cautiously optimistic, and consciously trying to contain my enthusiasm ever since reports came out about Fox pushing to lighten the noir tone, simplify the setting, and move towards stand-alone, "action-packed" episodes. It turned out the tone was by no means light, and there were a lot of hints at future plot arcs. Also: it actually kind of kicked ass. Nothing stellar, but as far as pilot episodes go - I thought it was a really good one. I already like the cast. Eliza managed pretty ok, and I'm curious how she'll handle the concept (and secretly hoping she'll knock my socks off). The striking main boss lady is pretty awesome. As for Tahmoh*... I thought the sequence with his twin, interwoven confrontations was the best part of the whole thing. Then I remembered I was actually really annoyed by a pretty similar bit in the season premiere of Damages. I'm still not entirely sure if the source of this discrepancy lies in Whedon's superior use of narrative, or his superior use of a half-naked, sweaty Helo.

Damages has lost its magic for me. I'm annoyed by William Hurt (whom I usually like), I roll my eyes at the overwrought construction I used to admire so much, I suddenly start seeing hints of Al Pacino's school of overacting in Glenn Close's performance, and worst of all it turns out I actually don't like Timothy Olyphant when he's not playing the dealer in Go. Marcia Gay Harden's cool, I'll give them that. And I'll keep watching, but I am awestruck no more.

Battlestar Galactica has managed to be engaging and thrilling for three episodes in a row now, which is something to behold. I'm once again really curious as to what's going to happen next. And the Spoiler-Free Gender Neutral Blond Person really impressed me with their acting. My only complaint is the absurd Cylon resin plot point in the last ep. Why was it even an issue? A week ago the old guy was ready to forcibly replace the fleet's FTL drives with Cylon technology, but now he's all freaked out by resin?! Also: shortest crisis ever. If they really just needed something to fill the last 3 minutes with, why not just invent a reason for Helo to get naked? Have you seen that Dollhouse scene?

The Office had a streak of 2 or 3 laugh-out-loud funny episodes, but has now returned to the land of the lukewarm giggle. I'll still be watching it, but it's no longer my Bedtime Comfort Series. Not by a long shot.

That title was somehow usurped by Ugly Betty. I've stopped trying to understand my relationship with the series - I don't love it, I don't feel like I need to keep watching it, but doing so before going to sleep somehow always sends me to a happy place. And it still has some killer lines every once in a while.

Speaking of killer lines - 30 Rock. Some episodes are better, some are worse, but I learned that no matter how flat some of the stuff falls, there's always this one line,that makes it all worth it (in the last episode it was "How dare you say that in front of the statue of Saint Lucia - the patron saint of judgmental statues!" which, believe it or not, is infinitely more funny when delivered by Salma Hayek). I've reconciled myself with the fact that some people just don't get 30 Rock, and that it does not necessarily make them retarded. It's very wit-oriented, and sacrifices a lot (plausibility, character depth, emotion, you name it) for the opportunity to show off its writers' one-liners. But that sort of cerebral, good-on-paper humor is right up my alley, so it remains my favorite comedy currently on tv.

Speaking of which, the 3rd episode of United States of Tara was absolutely hilarious. If they keep this up, I'm totally falling in love with this show. The slightly risque tone reminds me of the first season of Weeds (as opposed to the "shock" overkill of the second season, or any given episode of... *gag* Californication).

Finally, Mad Men. Ohhh Mad Men, how I... yeah, I got nothing. One episode it's like someone just took some white-out to an hour of my life, and then something like 2x11 (The Jet Set) comes along and I'm slack-jawed with adoration. If that's even a thing. Seriously, the Californian part of that episode was like a Flemish masterpiece. I never wanted it to end. So yeah, once again I'm mesmerized. I wonder how long it'll last this time.

And I think that's that. I still have a backlog of Big Love to get through, but apart from that - I'm all up to date.

* You better believe I'm gonna link this photo every chance I get

Closing time

This could be an interesting year. Things are getting bigger, but in a natural, evolutionary rather than revolutionary way. That is, if everything actually clicks.

Dream global, think local, and who knows - the middle just might turn out to be golden.

I think I'm getting pretty zen about the Big Stuff. And I enjoy the silence more and more.

In Gdansk, there is a barber shop called Blue Sun. Just thought you should know.

Language fail

Cytaty z opisow facebookowych eventow/grup. Cieszy mnie zwlaszcza porazka tego drugiego, bo nienawidze pseudoartystycznego belkotu:

"Organizacja mojego brata regularnie jezdzi do nepalu i pomaga tam dzieciom chodzic do szkoly."

"Artyści ze środowiska zielonogórskiego przedstawiają różnorodne prace odnoszące się do energii codzienności: zdarzeń, ludzkich relacji oraz apotykanych przedmiotów i obrazów. Ich symboliczna kreatywnosc opiera się..."

No, to z powrotem do pracy.

Mutant update

Res - They Say Vision

Some terrible, terrible remix instead of the studio version.

Words escape me

Went to dinner with a couple of friends I hadn't seen in a long time. Heard the following sentence:

We met my mother's new girlfriend. She has a beard. But she's kind of boring, so it was a bit awkward.

Felt like the English language could as well be retired at that point.

25 things

(pasted in from Facebook, for good measure)

1. I'm not big on casual physical contact - I reseve hugs for people I'm extremely happy to see/haven't seen in months, which means I mostly hug emigrants - and can get extremely annoyed when people paint it as a flaw.
2. I like to allocate my admiration to niches and tend to develop a vague dislike for anything that's grown too universally beloved before I get to it. Sujfan Stevens never had a chance.
3. I love the Moon. I could stare at it for hours.
4. I think Stephen Colbert might very well be the most charismatic person in the entertainment industry.
5. I was something of a child prodigy, but then quickly ended up a B- to C-grade student. The same happened with almost every new thing I tried (unless I sucked at it from the get-go). My life has beginner's luck written all over it.
6. I hate group sports, verbal exams, and simultaneous interpretation. Instant feedback terrifies me.
7. I really like the Polish 1997 Eurovision entry and that's as open about it as I'm willing to get.
8. I can't swim because as I was traumatized by the scary instructor lady during our mandatory swimming lessons in elementary school, and only went to two. I attempted to teach myself to swim in highschool, in a river at a friend's summer house, and managed to get the floating bit right just in time to get carried off by the current and almost drown - I had to be rescued. Haven't tried since.
9. I find translating from Polish to English much easier than doing it the other way around.
10. I wish I could dance and sing well. I only dance when drunk, but sing (or rather: warble) all the time. Go figure.
11. I never get tired of meeting cool new people, even though maintaining contact with them all became unfeasable a long time ago
12. As far as narrative is concerned, I'm usually not touched by personal, slice-of-life stories, but get really choked up about politics - especially international relations. The shot from "Elizabeth" with the Spanish ambassador with blood trickling from his slit throat haunts me to this day (in a good way).
13. I think I'm a born freelancer, because I seem to be pretty decent not spending too much and getting stuff done despite a lack of oversight.
14. I absolutely adore food. There are times when I actually get a mood boost when I remember I haven't eaten yet. Therefore, I actually can't remember what it's like to be slim.
15. I don't like group-watching movies I haven't already seen. The combined trauma of a bad movie experience shorts out my empathy circuits (unless it's a so-bad-it's good situation). That's why I usually show people films I already know to be good and get very frustrated when they lose focus just as a good scene is coming up.
16. I used to like cats, but then realized they too are attention-whores, and trigger some sort of latent retardation in their owners. Dude, I'm leaving in a few hours, this thing's here 24/7. I'm sure its awesome how it just moved from one place to another, but pay attention, a good scene is coming up.
17. For years and years I had this thing where at bedtime I had to close my eyes before the lights went out, as to not witness the transition from light to dark. Actually, I think I still do that.
18. In the morning, I brush my teeth in the shower, even though it's terribly unecological.
19. If everyone has a "thing" that they occasionally do when wasted - C.J. Cregg, for instance, does "The Jackal" (google it) - then mine is probably doing the background vocals on En Vogue's "Never Gonna Get It"
20. I used to hate travelling, but now find I really like it. However, my last four international trips consisted more or less of hanging out with the same bunch of people in different locations, so I fear I might still not like travelling itself - just the people involved.
21. I find Chris Evans to be unreasonably hot.
22. As a kid, I was desperate to have superpowers. In RPG video games, I always play spellcasters. I think it even seeped into my brief academic life - I wrote my thesis on the personal influence of certain individuals on a great historic event.
23. Also, sometimes I wish I could kill complete strangers with a thought.
24. My flat buzzer is the first one on our building's intercom thing, and for years the flat above ours was a notorious drunkard den, so all the local boozehounds would ring us to get into the building. Eventually, we just stopped answering, and only automatically buzzed in people who knew our secret signal. I've gotten so used to it that I now get confused and awkward when someone actually answers the intercom thing.
25. When I'm rich and famous I'll totally have a gigantic bathtub.

Or not

Last night I had a totally spur of the moment (20 minutes from ao's phonecall to my arrival) outing, attending some awards ceremony. Or rather: a revue of virtually all the people I'm on nod/smile* terms with disguised as an awards ceremony. There were some friends around as well though, and free booze, so it all worked out fine.

Having learned that one of the awards went to a friend, and one to a smile/nod acquaintance, I relocated (ok, was relocated by yssy) to Chlodna, which was a very good idea, as pauli was there, as well as more booze, music, and - surprisingly enough - an urge to do the dancefloor thing in a damp and sweaty basement. Four hours later I stumbled back home barely stopping myself from triumphantly roaring along to The Loneliness of a Tower Crane Driver (the second part that is) and feeling very thankful that I'm finally getting that haircut on Wednesday.

First snapshot: making an off-handed remark about leeching on Ao's friend's (not even a nod/smile acquaintance) booze, which he had offered at one point, but not to me personally. Ao deciding that the best course of action is to go and ask said friend on my behalf. Standing there with weird, mounting sensation and hearing pauli - who was barely even listening, just scanning the room with her eyes - capture it perfectly by absently offering "Well, this is gonna suck..."

Second snapshot: Feeling a surge of popecstacy** when someone put on on Be My Lover by La Bouche (the ultimate eurotrash song, absolutely craptastic). Setting my delighted gaze on yssy: packet refused. Turning to pauli: packet refused. Turning to g5: uplink established. Feeling pretty sure that if I turned to look at the dancefloor, I'd be able to see all the gay guys, glimmering in this musical blacklight.

* that's when you're allowed to say hi and stand in awkward silence if you happen to be stuck next to each other waiting on line

** a term I wish I had coined myself

Salute

Almost as scenic

Every time I see one of the city buses headed to New Italy I feel a bit post-colonial.

Caspar Hauser

Ok, the time has come for the story of the Baden dynasty and Caspar Hauser. As told through a few choice snippets.

[Margrave Charles Frederick] was already an elderly man (...) when he felt the desire to have a companion during his declining years. This old man's whim was potentially dangerous, and Princess Amelia, the wife of the hereditary prince, was worried. Since the death of her mother-in-law, she had occupied first place at court and had no intention of yielding it to a newcomer who, during the old sovereign's lifetime, would take precedence over her. Only someone who has not been a hereditary princess can fail to realise how painful such a humiliation can be!

Indeed. I have, once, so I know exactly.

Princess Amelia went in search of a ncie girl, someone beautiful but unobtrusive, who would know how to charm the margrave's old age, but discreetly. She thought she had found the very person in one of her maids of honour, Luisa Geyer von Geyersberg [I am not making this shit up]. In the absence of great beauty the girl had spirit - especially a spirit of intrigue - and she revealed it by rapidly captivating the heart of Charles Frederic (...) It was decided that the children born of this marriage should have no other righrs beyond bearing their mother's name (...) [and] would only be called to succeed if the Baden line became extinct. In fact, there was little chance tht this would happen (...) Two years passed which apparently justified this assumption, and then, in August 1790, the [countess von Hochberg - formerly von Geyersberg] gave birth to a son, Leopold von Hochberg. From that moment there was no holding her: a second son, William, was born in 1792, a third, Alexander, in 1794, and in 1795 came a daughter (...)

In 1812 [the legitimate descendant of Charles Frederick] Grand Duchess Stephanie gave birth to a son, and the rage of the countess von Hochberg, on seeing the crown recede from her sons' heads, reached its height. It was then (...) that she had the utterly fantastic idea of stealing the new-born child and using it as a pawn in the game (...) The plan was crazy: she ran every risk of being caught (...) but through a strange combination of circumstances, the first part of [it], at least, was successful. Thanks to accomplices in the palace, she succeeded in substituting for the royal child, who was only a few days old, another child born the preceding week to a poor family in Carlsruhe (...) Unfortunately for the countess, her plan did not entirely succeed. In fact, no sooner had he been placed in the grand ducal cradle than the plebeian child was seized with convulsions and began to howl. This woke the girls who were looking after him. In the uproar this sudden illness caused, nobody noticed the exchange. The doctor summoned to the child could not have realised it since it was not he who had delivered the grand duchess (...). The child died the next day and suffering had changed his little face so much that not even his father could have guessed that he was not his (...) The court went into mourning and the countess von Hochberg found this grand ducal baby highly embarassing. It was a bad moment to suggest his return in exchange for the elevation of the Hochbergs to the rank of princes of Baden.

In short, the child was given to a peasant family, under the supervision of countess von Hochberg, who later had a falling out with her sons, for whose titles she fought so bravely, and decided to divulge his identity to the legitimate Baden branch. The legitimate Baden branch reacted by incarcerating the boy in some fortress, where he lived in total isolation for a few years, before being released by his jailer - who got fed up with playing nanny - into Nurnberg. A veritable caveman, who ate with his hands and knew only a few broken words of Franconian, but nonetheless bore a letter of recommendation adressed to the captain of the guard. Needless to say he became an instant celebrity. I was very surprised to find that I'd actually heard of Caspar Hauser before reading that story. It's weird, the places pop attaches itself to culture sometimes.

Hamsters!

This is my love letter to Project Runway Canada. I've since watched the entire first season, and am now re-watching it with some friends, howling with laughter and once again feeling a mounting desire to hump the hell out of the Sasquatch* (except for that one episode where he's a total asshole). I love practically everything about it... where do I begin? Oh, right:

Iman is un-fucking-believable. At first her persona, and the theatrics, seem just so over the top, as if she were continuously blasting I-AM-IMAN-an-an-an straight into your ears. But after a few episodes... well, actually, nothing changes, except you find yourself answering "Yes you are!" From your knees. She's completely authoritative, merciless, and yet often gracious at the same time. In every episode she does something that has you on the floor in a peal of awestruck laughter - which is a truly bizarre reaction that I believe only she can ellicit. Whether she's pronouncing with righteous fury that "Goth is not trashy! It is a legitimate look!" (and hell yeah it is!), or going - completely out of the blue - ghetto on the Sasquatch, you just can't not love her.



The Canadian Elle judge Lady is very pretty, sweet, and concerned, but at the same time not beyond comments like "She says it's a girl with two personalities - well we've seen both: Boring and Tacky". The designer judge person seems like a really cool dude, and you have to admit Bubbles cleans up good. As for the mentor - there's just something so hilarious about him... I was completely wrong - he isn't Tim Gunn meets Magnum P.I. He's a just a Canadian Magnum, substituting any sort of campy suaveness for a clueless bus driver vibe. I don't know, it's as if he's so adorable in his uncoolness, it somehow actually makes him cool.

And then, of course, are the contestants. Most of which have moments of sheer brilliance. First of all there's Evan Biddell...


...aka the guy from Saskatchewan, who I wasn't entirely sure about at first, but couldn't say no to after hearing him say "She has a full-sized horseshoe stuck up her ass. Right next to a rabbit, with all four feet intact." There's also his nemesis, Lucien the Transylvanian pup, who did the most preplexing bit of passive-aggressive flirting with Uncle Nick from American PR. There's Marie-Genevieve, the French-Canadian girl, who annoyed the hell out of me throughout her stay on the show, and then completely redeemed herself in one of her last interviews. There's the lovely, classy, patient Kendra (*sigh, eyeroll* "Boys..."), Carlie, the little-engine-that-could from Vancouver, and Darryl Hannah (well, not really, but almost). And of course, the ultra-funny, creepily androgynous Stephen, author of:

Stephen, talking about Sasquatch and the Transylvanian: You're like two male hamsters thrown in together, and just going at eachother...
Sasquatch: No, you don't understand. It's like when two lions...
Stephen: HAMSTERS!

Okay, I ran out of steam, so that concludes my gush. I feel a bit guilty about being so into a fucking reality show - a genre I sitll consider to be the bane of television - but to be honest I haven't felt that excited about anything on TV for a very long time. I appreciate the aimless artistry of Mad Men, I want to see how Battlestar Galactica ends, and I get regular giggles out of The Office - but do they grip me the way this thing did? Not by a longshot. It's not The Wire. It's not Buffy. But it's absolutely top-notch entertainment.

I leave you with a line that had me giggling almost all the way back home, but won't be funny to anyone who hasn't witnessed any of the highly dramatic and elaborate Iman sendoffs:

Iman: Lucien! You said your outfit belongs on a Southern cruise ship, but you clearly went overboard...
*turns towards the next contestant*
Ana, cutting in: Shmandra! You suck.

(There was no contestant called Shmandra. It's just a name Ana, with no apparent humorous intention, assigned to poor Shernett because she couldn't be arsed to pay more attention to her, and which in Polish actually manages to convey a profound sense of bleh.)

* I'm just calling him that because he's from Saskatchewan, it's the best term of endearment I could come up with