Tuesday, July 7, 2009

A meditation on wasting time

In between applying for jobs, dodging my arch-nemesis the NYPS (the New York Parking Syndicate), bonding with the NYS Emissions guy over the Stooges and generally languishing in malaise, I have started watching Heroes.

Yes, I started watching because NewSpock was reputedly a main (albeit patently evil) character.

A penchant for brain collection and consumption have a lot to recommend itself to a fan of the Zombie genre.

This show has totally disarmed me. I have such an enormous soft-spot for the King-ian (as in Stephen King) trope of gathering disparate bodies together for Quest fulfillment. Dictated upon a blueprint upon which the Master Power (fill in higher deity of choice here) wishes to sway but cannot actively involve itself in.

A trope within whose parameters David Eddings' Belgariad and Mallorean succeed so beautifully.

Razzing perhaps deserved, but it's the same reason I have such a crazy love of M. Night Shyamalan's corpus. Particularly Unbreakables' "They called me Mr. Glass..." and Lady in the Water (which I really liked, but might be the only one in the world).

Being only four shows into the series, I have decided that Clair's father rocks the world. Dude! Mad props to the father who erases the memory of his daughter's attempted rapist as retribution. Personally, I would have killed his punk ass. But I respect the differences in style.


  1. Was that last bit about Heroes? If so... that was sooo two years ago.

  2. Listen, young man. Those of us of the approaching Geritol set take a while to cotton to these newfangled things. Thank goodness for Netflix and Hulu.

    Of course, working 70+ hours per week the past couple of years didn't help either ;)