"True Detective" Is The Best Television Since "Deadwood"

HBO knocked another one out of the park with True Detective.

POSSIBLE SPOILERS TO FOLLOW - just my thoughts and theories on S1 to date.

Just watched S1E3 and I'm all a jumble. This work speaks to me on so many levels. I know that's cheezy to say, but it's true.

Having lived in the Southeast US for quite a spell, I've never been really interested in romanticizing it. Not a lot to get nostalgic about, I thought. But then I started seeing interpretations of the South and Southern culture in media. I visited different places, developed an appreciation for the for the feel of each place. Even with my limited experience, I could pick up on some themes, some similarities.

(It probably all started with a trip to Savannah, but that's another story. It might even be another lifetime).

True Detective is capturing something true about the South. There's lots of facets, lots of modes to the region. This is the one about desert without sand, scrublands, rigs in the distance and squalor all around. Miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles. How the empty highway at night haunts you, even during the day.

But it's not arid. It's a humid, fecund environment. So when it's not breeding green, what is it growing?

Casting Harrelson and McConaughey in these parts is genius. Dead bang on. They sell every moment, every line. They are not just inhabiting these characters, they are the dreams these characters have about themselves.  They are simulteneously inside the character and standing outside the character, offering subtle critiques, hints, and clues.

The dialogue is superb. It's melodic and lyrical without being oratory or intonated. There's speechifying, but the kind you do when you want to hear yourself talk, maybe trying to convince yourself of something. Maybe it's the soundtrack of the constant conversation in your mind that you never reveal to others. It does not strike one false note.

Presented with Cohle and Hart, two seemingly disparate men, I can't help but feel they are the same man. This whole series could be one man's existential crisis in reconciling his two natures. In their personal philosophies, neither man is wrong. Neither one is entirely right. But I adore that they haven't made Hart a thoughtless rube to Cohle's moody nihilism. Pessimism, while rational, does not equal higher intellectual capability. Outlook is a choice you make based on the information you ingest.

And back to the dialogue again. It's technical in all the right places, but there's plenty of context that allows for interpretation and understanding. Took me most of the episode to realize that "DBs" stood for "dead bodies." But when they rattled off putting out an APB and looking for "KAs", I instantly knew that meant "known associates." It takes really good writing to go into lingo without losing your audience. 

And tonight's episode. The tent revival preacher who sounds almost Buddhist in his sermon. The fact that you knew, you just knew, that Cohle had braced the suspect and caused him to shit his pants. Before he even said those almost exact words, the line had already popped in your mind.

McM was fantastic in the date/dance scene. Look at his hands as he's leading, he even holds his fingers rigid in an attempt to avoid contact, intimacy. His whole body is screaming that he wants to be far, far away. He can't even hold eye contact with anyone.

Except Mrs. Hart, played by the fearless and awesome Michelle Monaghan. I called it first ep---Cohle and Mrs. H are gonna have an interesting relationship, if not a straight up affair. It won't end well. But nothing in Cohle's universe ever does.

And they got the wrong guy for the murders. I'm pretty sure they put down a pretty bad man, but he wasn't the one. And Cohle knows it. I suspect Hart does too, but has lied to himself for so long that he might have forgotten.

I could ramble on for quite some time. If you are not watching it, you should be.

In Hart and Cohle's exchanges I find myself cleaved perfectly in two, feeling that each character is speaking for me. How often does that happen?

"We know what we want. And we don't mind being alone."

You Got To Be A Stupid MoFo To Get Hired On Your Day Off

When I rolled into town for some holiday visiting, I had no idea I would end up with a legit job. It's beyond legit, it's ridiculously tailored to my state of affairs, health, etc.

My help is desired, but my presence in not required. Not yet anyways. You can't ask for much more than that.

And I owe a debt of gratitude to my awesome big brother and leetle sister, who have made it possible for me to stay somewhere for free.

The strangest part is that where I'm staying is my old apartment, in my old room, with my bro as a roommate. Just like before I moved.

There is still my box of dusty painting supplies stored over the washing machine. There's still some wrapping paper I used to use.

Even if something is new or moved to a different place, I can find it in just a few moments.

I've never gotten the chance to return to a place I've lived in and find it still intact. I have driven by houses with new occupants, down streets that had changed.

I've stood in the woods and looked at the 2x4 beams jutting up from the ground, the wreckage of what was once a home. Now another spot among the trees, with random pieces jutting up from the ground, slowly losing the fight against nature.

So to come here, this unlikely little apartment, and see all the things I left behind. Tis passing strange, indeed.

I don't belong here anymore. That's what the familiarity makes me realize. There is no space I fit. But I can navigate it. I can tread water here, maybe I can even ride a current or two.

The sunset cast a deep, true pink across the dappled clouds. Blending into the softest grey that was almost white. The breeze was almost undetectable. The dog barked and stopped to watch me watch the sky.

It has been so lovely to see the stars again. So lovely to see the moon. I look up and my constant companions are above me.

Well, I Finally Did It

For the purposes of this story, please keep in mind I kept a pleasant tone of voice and facial expression the whole time.

Ordering drinks at a mostly empty bar. Large older gentleman slides his pretzel mix bowl in front of me. I say "Thank you sir." He tells me not to call him sir, he had enough of that in the military. Mild chit chat as I wait FOREVER to get my drinks.

Then he let's loose with "I hate to use the n-word, but. . . "

I chime in with a bright "Then please don't."

He proceeds to use the word. Of course.

I ask politely for him to desist. He begans enumerating the problems associated with living in close quarters with *thatword*. I politely ask him not to use that word.

The bartender chimes in with "Well, we're all human." A mild mitigating statement.

He continues to use that word, after I have asked him to stop, after I've said I don't like that word, after the bartender tried to change the subject. I think we've all been in this situation.

With a blank look on my face I turned to him and said, "My father is black."

The immediate response from both bartender and barfly was "What? You don't look it."

He then said he didn't mean to offend me. The bartender asked me "Are you sure? You don't look like it at all."

No shit. She actually said that. That's fucking gold, man.

He continued to mutter half hearted apologies. I assured him that I wouldn't be offended if he would just let it drop.

Then I sent DJCP to the jukebox with the instructions to "Play something with some soul."

We got excellent service from the bartender the rest of the night.

But don't take my word for it. Try this handy method out for yourself.

And play a lot of Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke on the jukebox afterwards.

Am I Just Getting Dumber? Or Is Trying To Get Healthcare Info That Hard?

I'm having this Groundhog Day-esque experience. I keep on clicking links that lead to other links that lead me back to the same link.

I have a fair bit of experience in translating from insurance-ese to normal layperson. But these forms and explanations have me lost.

This is so ridiculous. I can't even afford healthcare, but I have to go through insurance companies anyways. People who think that universal healthcare is a socialist nightmare are blind, greedy, stupid, or all three. That's right, I said it.

I would like to state, again, that despite the reforms contained in the Affordable Healthcare Act, it fails at the most crucial point: insurance companies are still an integral part of the healthcare system in the US. As long as insurance companies are negotiating deals with hospitals and providers, then health costs will continue to be artificially inflated and increased to the point of ridiculousness.

Any system in which point of sale cash payment is greater than bureacratic billing, you have a serious problem. It's called racketeering. The disparity between what an insurance company pays for a procedure and what an individual pays for the same procedure is outrageous.

The fact that insurance is required to get any feasible pricing on medicine, routine doctor's visits is at the root of the imbalance. Insurance should be for catastrophic, out of the norm events, not for getting your birth control or insulin or diagnostic labs. Sure, Obamacare prevents the criminally greedy practice of deny insurance based on pre existing conditions. But guess what?---people with preexisting conditions are still penalized. Their premiums are a lot more. You can go broke just trying to maintain coverage to help you stay alive.

The ACHA has just further empowered insurance companies: companies who are focused on profit margins, not on the welfare of patients. Companies who have already banded together to insure maintenance of artificially inflated health costs. Companies who have shown they will throw any customer under the bus if they can get away with it, regardless of the health detriments to the patient.

Obamacare, from what I've seen, is just like giving Viagra to a rapist, then telling him to play nice. The problem is not affordable insurance. The problem is insurance, period. People shouldn't have to negotiate through a middleman to get medical treatment (since they already have to do that with doctors, which is a whole other bilious rant).

I'm not even mad typing this. I'm exhausted. I've been trying to look up healthcare plans for the last two hours. And I keep falling asleep. My brain has gone past tired and into depressed defeat. And even if I get something resolved soon, the way the system is set up I will have to fly back to CA to see a physician.

This system is nauseating. Our greed is disgusting. Our empowerment of the already powerful and castration of the less fortunate is sickening.

Should the world end, we have certainly earned it. Humanity is appalling.

Mischiefin' Is Hard

Been perpetrating some mischief of the most time sensitive matters today. It was freaking exhausting.

The countdown begins. Updates when the Mischief officially detonates, for the interested.

UPDATE: I is woah out, toah up from the floa up.

All you office are belong to us!

You can't run, you can't run. Don't you know who I am?

Pocket Fredward!

And extra prezzies on the side. I worked really hard on color coordinating these. It's sad, isn't it?

 And that's how you do your little sister's 30th birthday up right. I may not have the oomph to pull off major coups anymore, but I can stealth up in yo shizzle and life-bomb you. There's nowhere to run. There's nowhere to hide.

Hun love. When you care to raid the very best.

Sherlock Season 3

Just saw finale.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!11!1TFEWIVGE80DJNAKJSBV 8782GBLk1378347g10vbdhsdcbnxew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also: I think I kind of hate Steven Moffat. I feel very manipulated.

But it's so damn good. This is like an abusive relationship.

Angst Whisperer

I don't know how I keep on ending up in the position of talking people down, calming things up, etc. I was tech support and babby support and emotional support today at work.

And let me tell you, if I'm your tech support, you are right well hosed. But, I must note that my solutions worked, and allowed a new employee to get some work done in the office instead of melting down while the boss and the official tech guy were out.

Tech Hint #28: Check to make sure all switches are set to "ON." Really helps.

I got instant karmic reward by going to a long, lazy lunch with my Science Bro! Yay! Happiness! SCIENCE!

Science Bro!

Awww hells yeah.

 Having a Science Bro is awesome because of exchanges like this:

SB: Why don't you eat beef again?

HF: Prions, man.

SB: Oh yeah. Those things are terrifying.

Next subject! And my SB was working some zombie theories and actually referenced kuru. It struck a very nostalgic chord for me--I hadn't heard anybody say that in ages.

Then back to office, commiserate with my Brother From Another Mother on what a crazy day it's been, pick up computer, and head straight to my bro's comfy leather couch.

With recliner.

Which just goes to show that I really haven't much at all to complain about.

Nothing Pleasant Here

ETA: And then he got me egg drop soup and we watch a Duck Dynasty marathon and everything was fine. 

I fling things into the ether of the internet in the hopes that it will help mitigate circumstances which would lead to real life screaming throw downs.

I've always thought my parents did a good job with raising all of the kids with good manners. Even if we are being vulgar or crude, we are still extremely polite. Lots of "please, thank you, excuse me"--a real sense of propriety among other people.

What I can't figure out is how I ended up the chivalrous one, while two of brothers are real jackasses.

I just lugged two huge loads of stuff from my car into the apartment. Two long boxes of soft drinks (so heavy on one shoulder), huge bags of books---just a shit load of stuff. Took me two trips.

My bro is sitting outside on the front porch when I pull up. He doesn't make a move to help me. Well, he does push the front door open for me, so there's that.

On trip two I have to open the door myself. He's just sitting there.

Okay.

Then I'm unloading stuff inside and his first words to me, as if we were already in mid conversation, are "Man, I really wish I could quit my job." He briefly details that other ppl want to quit too. Because it's Just. So. Damn. Horrible. This from the guy who goes in when he wants, leaves when he wants, and just recently negotiated being able to work from home. Yeah.

I feel my internal alarms go off, as the thermometer on my rage starts going up. I put some things away and wander back to the living room. Guess who wants to comment some more on how angry and peeved they are? Clue: it's not me.

At this point I have said absolutely nothing to him except my initial "Hi" when I got out of the car. It took an amazing amount of willpower for me to not blurt out "Oh, hey, my day went just great, thanks for asking? No, it's a breeze working again with all my defective organ issues. Yeah, I'm totally still struggling with the med induced rage, but my docs have told me to fuck right off about it. Thanks for asking!"

No. Instead I grabbed my backpack and retreated to the bedroom. Shutting the door. I've been in here typing for 5 minutes and Sherlock just asked "Hey, are you alright?"

Jesus Fucking Christ. How the hell did I end up the only chivalrous one in my family? My dad and brothers SUUUUUUUCK on that level. So self involved, so dismissive.

And it's not a sexist/gender thing for me. I open doors for men and women. I have helped out elderly couples in airports, wheeling them to their proper gate (that was opposite of mine). I'll stop and help someone pick up something they've dropped. When visiting my parents, I always go out and help her bring in the groceries.

Chivalry. Graciousness. Awareness. Whatever you want to call it, the quality is sorely lacking in some of my closest associates. Is it any wonder the world is fucked up?

And thus endeth my rant. Thank you, dear interwebz, for allowing me to say this here rather than beating my brother upside the head with a box of soda cans. It's probably a better choice. Maybe.

Black Rage! Black Rage!

--As always, tamping down on my emotions so other people can have theirs, H.

Same Shit, Different Day, Huh Rabbit?

Creeping into bed at 3:3X a.m. on New Year's Day? Free
Being awoken by an unprovoked, 5 minute canine cacophony 4.5 hours later? Priceless

Hey 2014, more of the same, eh? Good to know. Going to commit seppuku now. With a spork.

My Oh My, You Sure Know How To Arrange Things

You set it up so well, so carefully

Auld Lang Syne
--Bobby Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp!
and surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae run about the braes,
and pu’d the gowans fine ;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae paidl’d i' the burn,
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere !
and gie's a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
for auld lang syne.

    For auld lang syne, my jo,
    for auld lang syne,
    we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
    for auld lang syne

And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain