Filed under tv

he was kind of hyper

Okay, I swear I won’t just turn this blog into a Read the Tao of Stieb! blog, but here’s another pointer to them because they’re talking about someone I know, Gareth Wheeler. I went to JSkool with him. Of course this note isn’t very flattering but still. I know people that are Torontocentric and on TV. The quote:

Gareth Wheeler can rest easy…there’s a “glimmer of hope” for V-Dub: We get the fact that the host of SunTV’s the Grill Room wants to elicit some sort of discussion. But starting off the discussion with Mike Wilner, the Drunk Jays Fans’ Stoeten and some random Sun writer by asking them “Is there a glimmer of hope for Vernon Wells?” exactly one game into the season was a little much. It was even funnier to see this conversation after the game, in which Wells went 3-for-4 with a homer, 2 RsBI and two runs scored. Is it just us, or does Gareth have all of the feral nervous energy of a ferret backed into a corner? Kudos go out to Stoeten for locking down the gig, and for resisting the impulse to reach across the table and shake some sense into the host, who trotted out just about every tired Toronto hockey-centric media cliché about the Jays and especially J.P..

I wonder how many of our graduating class are now employed by SunMedia? I know of two now.

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if i seem a touch out of the popculture loop…

I decided after last week that the writer-less A Daily Show (and to a lesser extent Colbert) wasn’t worth the pain in my psyche of watching an hour of Comedy Network each night so I’ve cut them from my TV habit. And with them gone it became very easy to cut everything else off too. I’ll still watch sports (I do want to see the Patriots do their perfect season (or Favre deny them in the Superbowl)) but for the next while I’m mostly off television.

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… and thorough

Today wasn’t as bad as it could have been. It turns out Canadian homes are pretty well insulated. The electricians came this morning and the heat was out for most of the day while they installed … a new electrical box? Is that all they were doing? I guess there are some more outlets around the house too. Some of them may even be grounded.

Without the heat going all day in the -20ish weather (maybe -17C) I was sure I’d be chattering my teeth down to whatever you call the stuff under your enamel. It’s an old house, and drafty. So when the heat first went out I left to buy groceries, a somewhat foolish decision as I bought things that needed to be frozen and thence opened up the powerless freezer to dump the things in, allowing all the cold out. When I could have left the ice cream out on the porch instead. Smart boy this one.

At that point some of the house’s lights worked but the internet didn’t so I got some reading in. I wore an extra sweater but it was okay. Then all the power went out and I left to go buy socks. A cold day really drives home the fact that you own only three pairs that enclose your entire foot.

On my way back I had to stop for some filming for a sitcom that was happening on Ellice. The show’s going to be called “Make It Happen” and it’s about a family of driving instructors. The guy who stopped me from getting in the shot was telling me about it. Of course he compared it to Corner Gas.

And then I got home and the heat had been turned on and I parked in front of a vent and absorbed its emissions for an hour. Almost finished Shikasta, the Doris Lessing book I started reading after she won the Nobel Prize.

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curtis

Alison’s been gone for a week. The main floor is a mess because of her absence. Not that she keeps it clean, but because I’m considerate of other people and try to stay out of their way. (Unless we are discussing the former roommate who could be the subject of a children’s book.) This has been on my mind since I also raided her DVDs and watched the 13 episodes that were Twitch City. I don’t think I’d ever seen the second season of that show before. And since it was a CBC show not based on current events I’m sure it only returned after a multiyear gap. The first season is way better than the second. Like by a lot. Yep.

Maybe this’ll unclog Blogger.

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scarecrows as christlike figures

And now I’m done Carnivale. As soon as it was over I had to check the show’s wikipedia page. I knew there were only two seasons, but I hadn’t realized it was designed as a six season story. You can tell, but strangely enough it doesn’t make me angry. I mean, more would be great, but I’d hate to see them try and put an end to it the way they did with Firefly and Serenity. There’s enough of an ending for me. Just like Arrested Development.

This show just highlights the fact that Watchmen should not be made as a feature film; it needs to be 12 episodes on HBO. I think I saw something about Keanu Reeves being cast as Dr. Manhattan. I hope that was a dream. I do have those sometimes.

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reams of pulp, ink and photons

I woke up early this morning with my pen in my hand scribbling down my dream. No, not scribbling the dream itself down, more like scribbling down the narration of the dream. I know this because after I went back to sleep and woke up again it still made sense. And I wrote a fragment that might someday be a good scene. All before getting out from under the covers. That’s what I call a good start to a day.

I finished another page of PROJECT RIVER down without my phone crapping out on me, two pages of script for a project I’m going to try and get Alison to do the art for when she finishes up her schoolwork, plus the cleanup another page of NEW GIB script.

I was so productive I felt fine taking out a couple of hours to finish watching the first season of Carnivale. Wow. Great fucking show. Although I sort of wish that I knew how many seasons they were planning on. Is there an endpoint they’re trying to reach? I realize it would be a trivial amount of Googling to figure that out. Let me cherish my ignorance. Someday we won’t know what to do with not knowing something.

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close call

I almost fell into a trap there. Sitting on the couch reading a book (Marooned in Realtime) I almost felt like turning on the televisory device. There was poker on. Poker I’d already seen. That would be even worse than Guess Who Has the Best Card for no money, wouldn’t it?

Happily I shook myself out of it and will return to my time-travel murder mystery momentarily.

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andaman sea, andaman sea

I can’t believe how crappy I feel. And it’s all self-inflicted. I flopped down on the couch this afternoon after writing up some comics (le pingouink has an “at least one silent panel for effect” theme this week, so the translation efforts went much more quickly than usual) and watched TV for like five or six hours. I mean, to illustrate the depths I sank to: I watched an episode and a half of American Dad. And is it just me, or is Family Guy not funny at all anymore?

Maybe I’m just spoiled. We watched six episodes of Fishing With John at Reyn’s last night. “The fishermen awake, covered in sores and boners.” Can you argue with that? ‘Cause I can’t. And it (FwJ) gave me an idea for another comic I might have to do. It’ll be a bit more involved in terms of graphics than le pingouink, so it might be a once a week kind of deal. I guess my TV time was spent doing a lot of the heavy conceptual work that is the key to all these creative endeavours.

No it wasn’t. It was brain shut off time. Because my life is so freakin’ stressful.

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worry’s for another day

I don’t know anything about Ahmet Zappa so I don’t know how excited to get about this: “Fraggle” to rock big screen with Ahmet Zappa. Did Fraggle Rock seriously start out on HBO?

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lineup editor

Tomorrow I’m the lineup editor on our half hour newscast. Basically that means I decide which story goes where in the show. It’s a tricky job, because you have to get your pacing and everything going just fine. Luckily I’ve got lots of stories to work with, including my feature which worked out okay after all that hassle. I got my final interview this morning which was a bit scary. I knew I needed a fifteen second sound bite from this woman that didn’t trample all over my script. She gave me 14 seconds and 28 frames that lightly kissed my script’s toes. It was sweet like borscht ain’t.

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