First post back after a long break and where to start? I was feeling like The Woman Who Went to Bed for a Year, except that a year didn’t seem long enough; it was all I could do to drag myself downstairs and summon the energy for my first proper coughing fit. But now I’m better, it’s given me a new-found respect for people with ME. I don’t know how they cope.
I spent much of the time watching TV. I caught up with the whole of Keeping Faith; not a bad series except that it was hard to fathom people’s motives. Evan was a lantern-jawed, expressionless man who did terrible things for no reason and Faith spent most of her time gazing moodily into space before screaming out a huge steaming pile of heavily-accented invective (I needed subtitles for most of it) and rushing off to apply a fresh layer of lipstick. It was fun to watch though and Celiac Imrie was delightfully villainous as Faith’s mother. It all ends in a bloodbath and a barbie on the beach.
But! Compare and contrast with the astonishing Line of Duty. Can that series get any more stonking? I spent the whole of March catching up with previous series and I’m now like the rest of the population, reduced to one episode a week, six days spent gagging for the next.
This is TV drama at its best. Other than that I’ve been avoiding most of the OTT Prince Phillip coverage; once you’ve heard one Nicholas Witchell statement you’ve heard them all – and besides, I didn’t like the man, though it seems churlish to say so. It is amusing though to hear people try to recast his racist gaffes as the jokes of a man ill-at-ease, not to mention explaining away his Alpha Male instincts. But that’s always the way with the royals.
What amused me most were the 116 people who took the trouble to complain to the BBC about how easy it is to complain. Off with their heads, say I. It may seem hard Ma’am, but I do think a little bit of choppy, choppy…
Oh yes, we’ve been watching Blackadder as well.