So let’s see what I did this Sunday…
If you count very early Sunday morning, before I even went to bed on Saturday night, I watched the second episode of Torchwood: Miracle Day. I can’t say I liked it as much as the first. As I wrote on Twitter, I thought it had some terrific ideas, but was weighed down by odd, mistimed comedy, so-so action, and lengthy exposition. There were moments that I liked. Eve Myles and Kai Owen are quite good together, and Bill Pullman is doing some interesting character work, with a character that can’t help but be reprehensible. And I like that the writing has the courage to really explore the ramifications of the show’s premise in full, even if Beentsy suggests its a premise that’s been done before, by Jose Saramago. (I haven’t read this, or any, Saramago books, so I couldn’t really spot the differences for you.) I’ll certainly keep watching, although at this point I’m unconvinced it can sustain itself for ten episodes.
It’s no Children of Earth so far, I’ll say that.
What else? I did the Sunday crossword and watched an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation on Netflix while I did it. I haven’t talked about the recent Netflix price hike here, a price hike I’m still pretty ticked off about, since it’s going to almost double my own monthly fee, but that will maybe have to wait for another day. When I haven’t been quietly, mildly fuming over being expected to pay double for what’s possibly going to become more limited service — the market’s getting splintered, and lots of studios are pulling content out of Netflix streaming — I’ve recently been watching some Trek on it. Particularly Enterprise, which I never really watched when it was on the air. I’m a little surprised at how much I like the show, considering that’s it’s not exactly what I’d call…well, good. It does some interesting things within the confines of being a prequel show, but I think I’m being more than generous when I call it flawed. And yet, I like the characters, so I’m kind of liking the show. That theme song…well, not so much. I understand what they were trying to do with it, like with a lot of the show, and can even respect it. But it’s still pretty awful.
The most recent Harry Potter movie, though, is actually pretty good. I don’t think it works as anything other than a fond final farewell to characters who have become something like friends over the years — you’d be lost and bored if you’ve never seen one of the movies before — but as that, it succeeds quite admirably. Genevieve Valentine has some interesting thoughts about the movie and the series as a whole, and rightly points out some of the best smaller moments.
Okay, enough unfocused rambling about television and movies. Here’s something I wrote in my weekly free-writing group:
They had turned the castle into a makeshift hospital, but the wounded and near-dead had begun to out-number the living. Those who were left standing had little more than a first aid kit and a box of adhesive bandages that one of the tour guides had scrounged from a desk somewhere in the basement. There was no attempt at triage, or even much hope for the injured, since anyone who had been bitten was in the same boat. Those who were left knew, deep down, that they were lucky to have survived even this long with both a doctor and a gun.
Although the truth was, Dr. Butler was not looking very good. Both Diane and Peter had tried, without success, to get him to sleep, if just for a couple of short hours, tried getting him to think of anything other than Beth, his wife, lying unconcious on an Army surplus cot in the other room. The Butlers had honeymooned here in Scotland forty years ago, long before even the first hints of an outbreak, and Diane and Peter had taken the older couple under their wing since the first leg of the bus tour. But as protective as they both were of the old man, they both knew they needed him sharp, needed him focused, needed him to get what little sleep he could.
The gun, on the other hand, was looking just fine, if a little light. Barton, the bus driver, had it now, tucked in his belt, and although he was naturally reticient to use it, he had already proven himself a trained shot when the trouble began. “We dinnae want’a waste the ammo,” he told them. Security had been tight, following the most recent scares, but the castle’s one guard still hadn’t carried much in his clip.
How many had they killed? How many more would they need to put down, even before the ravenous horde outside breached the walls? No one wanted to think about it. To think about it was to invite the answers, and only sorrow and madness lay in that direction.
“We could enhance our chance of survival if we could contact some kind of authority,” said Roger. “The government couldn’t have toppled already. This outbreak was bad, the worst yet, but they’ve had warnings. They’ve had time to prepare. They…”
But that had been nothing compared to the number of zombies out there now.
Not sure it has any legs to it, as it feels a little shopworn and doesn’t really get inside any of the characters. There’s no plot, per se, and the plot that’s suggested seems awfully familiar. But I enjoyed it, if only for the exercise, the sentence-crafting and such.
Anyway, that was Sunday.