I fucking love telly innit
Do you remember back in February when I quit my job “to focus on university”? Turns out I’ve replaced it with telly box sets, and I’m back to doing uni assignments in between juggling Twin Peaks and Treme and the new series of Mad Men. Mad Men is stunning, as usual, but I can’t really talk about that here because the Spoiler Police will abseil through my windows in balaclavas.
The first series of Treme, on the other hand, was shown, like, a billion years ago in telly terms. Also, I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say that in 2005 there was this fuck-off great big hurricane called Katrina that decimated possibly the world’s most culturally important city. Watching Treme is hard work. It’s miserable. Everything in New Orleans is broken and fucked-up and nobody can get back on their feet because the police and government are corrupt and ineffectual, and the local economy is failing because nobody can come home from wherever they went when the storm hit. And the music is so beautiful and heartbreaking. I can do a maximum of two episodes at a time before it gets me so down that I have to do some melancholic staring out of the window or go downstairs to start a fight about the washing up.
Basically, you have to watch it because it’s important telly.
Turns out I was on the telly today because I won a grant from uni and had to go to a posh lunch with the VC and assorted cronies. Also turns out I look exactly like my mother when in profile.
