Concerning Television Programmes

So here I am, back again after yet another unpalatable interval. Felt the urge to call up the old blog and have a go at it, though I'm not sure what about just at the moment. Guess things will come to me as they will.

I've decided that I really must own Neon Genesis Evangelion. I'm not content having simply viewed it through once. I feel as though I need to go through it again, seeing if I can spot hints of the what-the-fuck to come in earlier episodes. And perhaps make a bit more sense out of the what-the-fuck that I know of already. Because it really isn't enough to only hear once about a guy who's pressed into service piloting a Lovecraftian abomination clad in the most advanced armor that the planet can offer by his emotionally-distant father and is then joined in battle by one young woman who is a single iteration in a long line of clones and another young woman who has serious mommy issues and attaches all her self-worth to her skill piloting a horrific alien cyborg engine of destruction, and how they all three spiral into self-destruction and the annihilation of life on Earth as we know it.

That about sums up the show, even though I neglected to touch on the emotionally-crippled adult cast and the mind-raping creatures spawned from a cosmic horror hell-bent on scourging the Earth of all beings to make way for its own brand of existence. It's all good times. Really.

On a much lighter note, I've been watching The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne, a show that apparently did so poorly that it is only available for further viewing by way of illicit piratical dealings on the Interblag. Which is a terrible shame, because it features steampunk cyborgs, airships, and vampires with jetpacks.

Did you get that last part? Vampires with jetpacks. If that doesn't sell you on a story, then you have no adventure in your soul whatsoever. You just sort of need to ignore the fact that the titular character is a whingeing, gullible idealist and pay attention to the Foggs, Phileas and Rebecca, who kick so much ass and take so many names that they run out of paper in the process.

Now you'll have to excuse me, as I must investigate the strange keening, ululating noise outside my house. If I don't return, call Miskatonic University. They'll know what to do.

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"Screw the rules, I have money!"