After the wee fella’s swimming lesson tonight he started talking about The Legend of The Seeker, which has just finished here on the sci-fi channel. For anybody who’s interested its based on the Terry Goodkind books. Anywho, my son was questioning the adult content of this programme...
- Yeah, but it’s only a programme. Nobody actually died, I replied.
- Yeah, but the kids died. They didn’t have to kill the kids.
- Yes, but...
- And then they chopped people up with swords.
- Yes, but...
- And the sex stuff. The kissing. They were getting a bit heavy. Richard and that woman.
- They didn’t actually have sex, son. They just kissed.
- Are they in love then?
- The actors playing Richard and Kahlan. Do you think you love each other?
- They’re playing a part, son. They’re acting.
- Well, if they don’t, I hope they used stunt doubles who really are in love...Imagine kissing someone you don’t love. Yeeuch.
Watching a wee bit of a programme on BBC the other night. “Wonderland: The British in Bed.” An excuse for some titillation, while we watch a number of couples sat up in bed talking about relationships, love, sex, blah. We learned amazing little nuggets of gold like...having children changes your life. Wow. Who knew? Public service broadcasting at its best. (You can just taste the irony can’t you?)
James May is a lucky bastard. Discuss. He pitches these ideas to the BBC like...I’ll go about playing with all the toys I loved as a boy and you get someone to follow me about with a camera? Why don’t you get me and a wine expert to go on a tour of vinyards? I'll act like a duffus and the British public will love it.
The BBC fall over themselves. He gets to do things he loves in front of a camera for money. How easy is his professional life? The downside of being James May? All that hair. Who could be arsed?
What am I reading this week? Just finished Pat Controy’s latest – South of Broad. I’ve been a fan of his since I read Prince of Tides in the nineties. I’ve read everything he has produced. I LOVE his stuff. This book has all the elements I’ve come to treasure from the man; lyrical descriptions, characters as quirky as a hat on a frog, dialogue with all the punch of a Tyson right hook and a plot with all the grip of a strip of Velcro. (Do you think I overdid the similes? Do ya? When did they start to irritate? It was the Velcro wasn’t it? Damn that Velcro strip!)
My only gripe with Pat is that he only comes out with a book every 5 or so years. WTF, Pat. How difficult can it be? (You can smell the irony, right?) To see how firmly my tongue is pressed against my cheek go to this next site and read how a man I have huge admiration for talks about the writer’s journey. http://www.patrickrothfuss.com/blog/2009/10/everyone-hates-their-job-sometimes.html