apolla: (Lyooominous)
I suppose it's a little ironic that the final season of The West Wing should get its DVD release here on the 11th September. Or not, I'm not sure.

All I will say regarding 11th September today is this: There is a way for the collective humanity of the world to live together, if only we would all take a moment to try. 

As for The West Wing? Well, I didn't watch the last series on TV, because I grew used to watching entire seasons on their release with the second: I spent a weekend literally shaking with the "WHO THE FUCK GOT SHOT!" after watching the first season that I couldn't stand it.

For me, The West Wing has both reflected and helped to shape my political ideas. No, that's not quite right. Not shaped, so much as it has helped me find a way to articulate what I already believed. I have grown to adore the characters that littered this fairytale flowery dell of a DC. Not just the democrats, not just the people I agreed with. I adored the guys on all sides who were there to make their world a better place. From the first appearance of President Bartlet post-tree and the millions of walking-very-fast scenes, I was in love with this world.

It didn't matter that it was fake. In fact, the more the real version of events got ludicrous and just plain heartbreaking, the more one clung to the picture painted by Aaron Sorkin, whether he was filtering through rocks of crack or not. It was a real version of a world. It wasn't TWO LEGS BAD FOUR LEGS GOOD political writing. It wasn't about uber-religious nutters on one side and free-love heathens on the other, at least not all the time.

More than all of that, it made a seriously boring and convoluted way of running a country seem exciting, interesting and entertaining. I hope to GOD that there were kids watching it who heard the political terminology used (AND explained) and will then use it to better understand and better make their political decisions.

For now, I'm personally waah-ing over Leo, bouncing over Donna's job interview and watching Josh try and relinquish his vice-like grip on the Santos campaign.

The West Wing is just the best 'what-if', man. The best.
apolla: (Lyooominous)
I suppose it's a little ironic that the final season of The West Wing should get its DVD release here on the 11th September. Or not, I'm not sure.

All I will say regarding 11th September today is this: There is a way for the collective humanity of the world to live together, if only we would all take a moment to try. 

As for The West Wing? Well, I didn't watch the last series on TV, because I grew used to watching entire seasons on their release with the second: I spent a weekend literally shaking with the "WHO THE FUCK GOT SHOT!" after watching the first season that I couldn't stand it.

For me, The West Wing has both reflected and helped to shape my political ideas. No, that's not quite right. Not shaped, so much as it has helped me find a way to articulate what I already believed. I have grown to adore the characters that littered this fairytale flowery dell of a DC. Not just the democrats, not just the people I agreed with. I adored the guys on all sides who were there to make their world a better place. From the first appearance of President Bartlet post-tree and the millions of walking-very-fast scenes, I was in love with this world.

It didn't matter that it was fake. In fact, the more the real version of events got ludicrous and just plain heartbreaking, the more one clung to the picture painted by Aaron Sorkin, whether he was filtering through rocks of crack or not. It was a real version of a world. It wasn't TWO LEGS BAD FOUR LEGS GOOD political writing. It wasn't about uber-religious nutters on one side and free-love heathens on the other, at least not all the time.

More than all of that, it made a seriously boring and convoluted way of running a country seem exciting, interesting and entertaining. I hope to GOD that there were kids watching it who heard the political terminology used (AND explained) and will then use it to better understand and better make their political decisions.

For now, I'm personally waah-ing over Leo, bouncing over Donna's job interview and watching Josh try and relinquish his vice-like grip on the Santos campaign.

The West Wing is just the best 'what-if', man. The best.
apolla: (Physical Graffiti)

I bet you've all been desperately wondering where I've been all week? No? You shock me.

Well, the weekend was truly fucking awful, bringing with it no iPod (as you all know) and the death of John Spencer, which left me truly rattled. All I can say is that I've watched every episode of The West Wing currently available on DVD (seasons 1-6) so many times that I suppose I have a great deal of affection for all of the characters, but perhaps none quite like that for the Great Survivor himself, Leo. The show will go on, I'm sure, but it won't be remotely the same. It survived losing Sam well enough, but I don't know how it'll be without Leo. God go with you, Leo and John both.

Onto where I've been all week. On Monday, I was given the afternoon off to go to a real music practice studio for a dress rehearsal. A dress rehearsal for what, I hear you ponder, scritching your head with piqued interest. Well, I will tell you.

Every year, the people I work for, The MCPS-PRS Alliance have themselves a Christmas gig, being that as an integral part of the music industry (they collect royalties for musicians), they have quite a few musically-minded people. And this  year, I was second on the bill. Yes, that's right. I sang. I sang so early that most people weren't there. However, my new pal Kathy was there and took pictures for me. Would you like to see?

You would? Excellent.

Pictures Here. There are eleven and they are big. )

Anyway, then on Wednesday, I went to meet my Very Best Friend In The Whole Wide World, Natasha at Euston. She'd come down to Slough to see her sister and some of her family before taking said sister to see Mark Owen at the Islington Academy. Yes, my best friend who lives 250 miles away, was ten minutes away listening to a former Take That dancer singing while I was doing my thing. If I weren't such a fan, I'd think Irony a bitch.

Also, Natasha got me THE BEST Christmas present. A copy, almost pristine, of the Thin Lizzy World Tour 1980 official tour programme. Can you believe it? It's like the perfect present for me! I feel like giving her the book A History of Hollywood just pales in comparison, but I'm so shite at getting gifts for people.

The programme also got the bloke I sit by at work to tell me his Thin Lizzy story. He knows/knew one of the band's secretaries and was at her 21st birthday party. So was one P. Lynott. Nobody, including Work Dude went and talked to Philip at all. Now, maybe he was in no mood to talk. Maybe he was stoned out of his head. Maybe, maybe. But don't you feel bad for my boy? He goes to this party and nobody talks to him? Even if they were just scared of talking to this Big Rock Star, it can't have felt great to be ignored/whatever. My poor boy. However, my sympathy is dented slightly by the story Work Dude told me next that said secretary related to him regarding Philip. I shan't betray what might be a confidence, but suffice to say my boy comes off entirely as the puffed up selfish rock star the more cynical among us expect guys like him to be.

Speaking of, there is no way those of you who asked for cards will get them before Christmas, or even New Year. There's a very good reason for this: I haven't sent them yet. I haven't been able to spend my full lunch hour in the queue at the post office, and I still can't find Cadey or Eb's addresses. Libbie, you'll have to wait a little longer for your Flakes, I'm afraid, but I have bought a cool box to put them in.

Love and hugs to you all, when I speak to you next, I'll be back at home. Probably next week after I've actually had some sleep.

PS. Meant to ask, anyone know the best way to get rid of the demonic, glowing red-eye in my pictures? Perhaps in photoshop?
apolla: (Physical Graffiti)

I bet you've all been desperately wondering where I've been all week? No? You shock me.

Well, the weekend was truly fucking awful, bringing with it no iPod (as you all know) and the death of John Spencer, which left me truly rattled. All I can say is that I've watched every episode of The West Wing currently available on DVD (seasons 1-6) so many times that I suppose I have a great deal of affection for all of the characters, but perhaps none quite like that for the Great Survivor himself, Leo. The show will go on, I'm sure, but it won't be remotely the same. It survived losing Sam well enough, but I don't know how it'll be without Leo. God go with you, Leo and John both.

Onto where I've been all week. On Monday, I was given the afternoon off to go to a real music practice studio for a dress rehearsal. A dress rehearsal for what, I hear you ponder, scritching your head with piqued interest. Well, I will tell you.

Every year, the people I work for, The MCPS-PRS Alliance have themselves a Christmas gig, being that as an integral part of the music industry (they collect royalties for musicians), they have quite a few musically-minded people. And this  year, I was second on the bill. Yes, that's right. I sang. I sang so early that most people weren't there. However, my new pal Kathy was there and took pictures for me. Would you like to see?

You would? Excellent.

Pictures Here. There are eleven and they are big. )

Anyway, then on Wednesday, I went to meet my Very Best Friend In The Whole Wide World, Natasha at Euston. She'd come down to Slough to see her sister and some of her family before taking said sister to see Mark Owen at the Islington Academy. Yes, my best friend who lives 250 miles away, was ten minutes away listening to a former Take That dancer singing while I was doing my thing. If I weren't such a fan, I'd think Irony a bitch.

Also, Natasha got me THE BEST Christmas present. A copy, almost pristine, of the Thin Lizzy World Tour 1980 official tour programme. Can you believe it? It's like the perfect present for me! I feel like giving her the book A History of Hollywood just pales in comparison, but I'm so shite at getting gifts for people.

The programme also got the bloke I sit by at work to tell me his Thin Lizzy story. He knows/knew one of the band's secretaries and was at her 21st birthday party. So was one P. Lynott. Nobody, including Work Dude went and talked to Philip at all. Now, maybe he was in no mood to talk. Maybe he was stoned out of his head. Maybe, maybe. But don't you feel bad for my boy? He goes to this party and nobody talks to him? Even if they were just scared of talking to this Big Rock Star, it can't have felt great to be ignored/whatever. My poor boy. However, my sympathy is dented slightly by the story Work Dude told me next that said secretary related to him regarding Philip. I shan't betray what might be a confidence, but suffice to say my boy comes off entirely as the puffed up selfish rock star the more cynical among us expect guys like him to be.

Speaking of, there is no way those of you who asked for cards will get them before Christmas, or even New Year. There's a very good reason for this: I haven't sent them yet. I haven't been able to spend my full lunch hour in the queue at the post office, and I still can't find Cadey or Eb's addresses. Libbie, you'll have to wait a little longer for your Flakes, I'm afraid, but I have bought a cool box to put them in.

Love and hugs to you all, when I speak to you next, I'll be back at home. Probably next week after I've actually had some sleep.

PS. Meant to ask, anyone know the best way to get rid of the demonic, glowing red-eye in my pictures? Perhaps in photoshop?

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