My own self

Everyone's looking to play an angle.

On the sage counsel of the entity I think of as Rkuang, I sat down a couple of weeks ago or so and checked out Damages. My motivation? Threefold.

One, everything I could find of information on it seemed appealing. Ruthless lawyers, complex intrigue, an utter lack of moral absolutes... Sounds good, no?

Two, Glenn Close.

Three, Ted Danson.

So, check it out I did, and with an immediacy that'd put Lucky Luke's right hand to shame, I was hooked. The show virtually seethed with complexity. If I were watching this on a week-to-week basis, I have no idea how I would have kept it all straight. Watching it all in a week and a half made that easy, but... I'm worried how I'll fare with season 3.

So how is it complex, you might ask? Well, each season has an on-going main story that the episodes spend most of the time on. This story uses cut-scenes very cleverly to repeatedly make you think one thing is happening, when truthfully the scene turns out to have meant something else entirely. Sure, you see a lot of these twists coming - at least I did - but there is just so delightfully many of them, there is no way you can see them all. On top of this comes a "x months in the future" frame-story, filmed in dystopian colour-schemes, which shows you out of context fragments of what will happen to the characters down the line. These little glimpses affect the way you watch the main plot deeply - and the next little glimpse of a future scene will almost always turn what you were thinking topsy turvy.

Add to this the fact that most of the characters on the show are scheming bastards, and you've got a mixture that can't but engage.

As for the actual stories and characters, it is all very good. Without giving much away, I think my initial gut-comparison on Twitter still describes this rather well - Damages is somewhere floating in the creative middle-point between Profit and State of Play. (My review of the former - I sadly haven't gotten around to writing one for the latter, but it is an excellent BBC miniseries, go see!)

Rarely do you find a better cast - more or less every actor impressed - but the one who in the end impressed me the most was in fact neither Danson nor Close, though they were of course both stellar, it was Zeljko Ivanek. (One of the main baddies of 24's legendary first season, one of the few good things about Heroes' third season, and also a fantastic guest star actor having been on popular shows such as Lost, Ally McBeal, House MD, True Blood, and a million others) Never having seen him in this close to a protagonistic role (gun to my head I'd call him the show's third in line for the title, at worst fourth), I was deeply impressed. Fantastic character, fantastic actor, fantastic arc. But really, he doesn't stand out that much - because these guys are all good.

Even the "innocent" lamb for the slaughter played by Rose Byrne impressed. Instead of being the stereotypical nice person the viewer is supposed to identify with, she rather played the role of showing what happens to an intelligent but decent person if she's thrown into a cutthroat environment such as this show's. One very excellent way to watch the show is as a tale of the gradual but inevitable corruption of this character, and it is exquisite. To give a final example of how good the actors on this show are? Well, by the end of the second season, we've seen two regulars from The Wire and two from Deadwood pop up as either regulars or recurring character. And that's not even mentioning the movie-actors they bring in.

The show's main strength, of course, is Glenn Close's Patty Hewes, the other protagonist next to Byrne's. An ends-always-justifies-the-means kind of woman with a towering intellect and just enough morals not to be a psychopath, she's the hub around which the show circles. Suffice to say, unless you're going to hire Ian McShane, you can't really find a better focal point for any show.

In conclusion, a few words on the show's progression - the second season is slightly less intense than the first, and the conclusions, though nicely wrapped up, feel less deliciously entwined and interconnected. This is understandable for a whole host of reasons, not the least of which is the mere fact of being a second season after such an incredible start as this show had. While still very good, very entertaining, and still spilling over with great actors, you're hereby warned, season 2 is not quite as ingenious as the first. But compared to most other shows it is still like asking the archangel Michael to engage in a fistfight with Donald Duck. (Except in this case, Michael would likely in truth be Sammael disguised as the Devil pretending to be Gabriel in a convincing Michael-costume. Or something. Donald's so screwed.)

It's not my favourite show of all time, and since I've seen some damned good TV in my day, it won't reach the top five list, either. But I can honestly say I feel bad about that, that's how good Damages is. It should be on a top five list somewhere, because that's how hooked I am. But it is definitely in top 10. I'm not sure who it'd be pushing out, but good riddance. Being beaten out by Close, Danson and Ivanek is a badge of honour in my book.

"If you were a man, I'd kick the living dogshit out of you."
"If you were a man, I'd be worried."

Highly recommended.

Inspired by a sheepish friend of mine, I've made a quiz to see if any of my indubitably geeky readers are geeky in the same exact ways I am.


Let the quizzage commence!


I'm obviously forgetting a whole horde of things I'm geeky about that I feel I should've added, but the format only allowed for ten questions. (If a surprising amount of people were to take it, I guess I could make a follow-up - a sequiz, if you would. You probably wouldn't.) Please comment and let me know how goes it, the two of you who'll bother to even go through it.

"Kelley didn't disappear. She died. I was there. What I wanna know is why I can't remember any of it."
"How would I know?"
"Because every time there's a secret buried someplace, I find you with a shovel behind your back."
"You should write Mother's Day cards."

- Nathan and Angela Petrelli

It has been pointed out to me - quite needlessly, but also flatteringly, and accordingly I don't mind at all - that there's been a sad amount of updates in this weblog of mine these last few weeks. Months. And what there has been, I'll usually reply with mindful self-deprecation, has been little amusing quotes. No posts of substance.

My posts of attempted substance have usually centred, with some few exceptions, on TV-reviews. I have no capacity this autumn to do many of those. Nor do I have the time to do book-reviews (heck, I don't even have the time to read non-curricular books), comic-reviews, movie-reviews... or, for that matter, the odd nonsense and musings on fanciful topics. I'm in the middle of putting an (unwanted) end to this university education of mine with an attempt to do twice the amount of courses you're intended to. I'm simultaneously digging through the bureaucracies of two countries, trying to figure out the whys and hows of next year without getting anything fatefully wrong. And, people, I still watch all that TV I don't take the time to review.

But tonight, I found myself with the urge to post, as it were, and so I'll do a composite post of what I am, have been, and will be watching this autumn. Some of it's started, some of it's already over, and some of it won't come around for quite a number of weeks yet. So please, come with me down the rabbit hole of much too much American television.


The story so far
As the summer was ending, and my Kings-abstinences were finally starting to subside, a lovely show named Easy Money was also waving its last goodbye. Having only ever gotten to finish eight episodes, this excellent little drama about a family of loan-sharks only managed to get four of them on the air last autumn. When the network finally started dumping the remaining four at the end of the summer nearly a year later, I was delirious to revisit the Buffkins and their morally ambiguous lives. Four weeks later, I was once again left hanging, all the more bitter this time for the certain knowledge there will never be more.

Then the beginning of the autumn proper was marked by the exit of True Blood's second season, which impressed me by being a good step above its predecessor. While I'm still not crazy about the show, it has solidified itself as a show in the upper end of the middle-tier of shows I deem good enough to bother with. Back when I first saw the pilot, I'd honestly not expected it to ever creep up to the midle-tier at all. So congratulations to Alan Ball and company. May your days be many and conveniently clouded.

Finally, Mad Men started back up. And while at first, I was still feeling like before about the show (everything is exquisite beyond belief except the dramatical confrontations and pay-offs), I have by now, especially in light of the most recent episode, started thinking that woah, the show might even be starting to do the big pay-offs right. While I can't claim to watch them all, I have to say, Mad Men is very likely to be the best made show in current American TV. If it is actually starting to improve in the one area I felt it was lacking, the sky's the limit.

Apocalypse, nowish
Boom. Mid-september hit, and so did premieres. Dexter, starting next week, and How I Met Your Mother, already on into its autumn roll, are both stockpile-shows that I'll catch up with come late December, but they're far from alone. New shows and returning shows, September's been a rich month for TV. Almost too rich - they're raining down on me so fast I ended up quoting an Angel-episode just to find a title for this section of the post.

In chronological order, as it were, this month of fresh TV started with Glee. I saw and liked the pilot this spring, and despite its dreary high-school premise, my fondness for musicals combined with the show's great humour is quickly bringing it up among my favourites this fall.

Another newcomer was Community, a half hour sitcom about a lawyer whose college diploma has been discovered as a fake and who ends up having to attend a crappy community college or face disbarment. So far, the two episodes have entertained and shown promise, but the great jokes, while there, are still too far between for a show that tries to be an outright comedy. For a drama, this show'd be hilarious, but for a sitcom, I feel it is a bit lacking. Still, when it's good, it's good, and I'll likely end up following it all fall in the hopes it will get better yet.

On the same day as Community leaped into the fray, Fringe came back with its second season. Crime procedurals don't really enthuse me much, no matter how much the try to disguise themselves as science fiction. But with a couple of really charming characters in a really distinct and unique father-son-relationship combined with an admittedly flawless execution of the plots-of-the-week, the show remains good enough to be worth the bother. With a little luck, the show will trap itself in its own mythos like Lost did, only quicker and with less obvious fillers on the road there. Not among my favourites this autumn, but given my standing investment of an entire season, I'm more willing to follow it further than I otherwise would be. Odds are that by Christmas, I'll have committed to this one for good, even if its basic structure is rather underwhelming.

Then followed another new sitcom, Bored to Death. With only one episode under its belt as of yet, this laid-back HBO comedy centres on a young author stuck with a writer's block on his work with his second novel. He turns to weed and white wine for inspiration, and his addiction eventually makes his girlfriend leave him. In desperation, he starts an impromptu career as an unlicensed private investigator. Yet another show I'm not sold on, but again one that seems to hold some promise. In particular the main character's best friend, a kid comic book artist trapped in a man's body, was hilarious. The show can also boast Ted Danson as a regular, which helps with the draw. Depending on how overwhelmed my TV-plate gets, this one might get the boot, but for now, I'm sticking with it out of curiosity.

Third and last of the new sitcoms I've tried this month is Accidentally on Purpose, where Jenna Elfman stars as a movie critic in her late thirties who gets pregnant on a one-night stand with a much, much younger man. The show was consistently funny - more so than Bored to Death or Community - but had less charm and identity. The pilot felt like it could have been an episode from any given sitcom of the last ten years, albeit a well-written one. However, one should not ever judge a show by its pilot, and once again, I'll be back for at least one more.

House M.D. is also back this month, and true to form, Hugh Laurie's magnificent as the title character. With the exception of a small Robert Sean Leonard-cameo, the remaining regular cast is absent in the double-episode season premiere. While I don't mind the regular cast at all, this is extremely good - because it also means that the premiere doesn't follow the show's regular episode formula. By the sixth season, the medical procedural with the House-twist has gotten incredibly old, and the only reason I'm still watching is because House himself is so compelling. The show, then, is by far at its best when it breaks this formula, and for two blessed hours including commercial breaks, it did so here. Stellar job, people. I can only hope and pray it'll retain a fragment of the awesome when it returns to predictable form next week.

On the very same day, Heroes returned, joining Fringe as the bottom of my barrel of expectations. Interestingly, my low expectations combined with a quite decent episode and Robert bloody Knepper made me quite happy with the premiere. If they keep going in this direction, the season could at least measure up to "volume 4" (the second half of season 3), which was rather decent too. In all honestly - anything that avoids the utter miserable crap that was "volume 3" will be appreciated. I'd even take the aimless-feeling season 2 again if we could avoid that. The trick to enjoying this show seems to be low expectations and accepting that Hiro simply will never die no matter how many stupid things he does, and I'm getting there. At least on the former half of that sentence. And as I said, the premiere was very decent indeed. Downright good in some aspects. I'm finding myself strangely up for more.

The third component to my barrel-bottom is traditionally Smallville which, despite its gradual improvement over the last four seasons (it has started season NINE now, if you can believe that), can never really shake my old, first-four-seasons' worth of "good LORD, this show's bad"-impressions. Admittedly, those first four seasons also had some really awesome nuggets of pure gold sprinkled in, usually involving Lex and Lionel Luthor. With both those characters gone by season 9, it is odd to see how the show can have improved so much on its average episode, and at the same time also never really reach the heights of those stellar masterpieces here and there that originally committed me to the show. Even so, all my prejudices aside, there is nothing to do but admit hands down that by now, for the most part, Smallville is a downright good show. And with the addition of the charming Callum Blue to the cast this season, I might almost forget how much I miss Lex and Lionel. Almost.

Final among the September Arrivals is also the one I've been looking forward to the most. In fact, I just watched it in the middle of writing this post. Dollhouse. An unabashed Joss Whedon-fan I might be, but the first five episodes of season 1 were really nothing special at all. Luckily, the show improved vastly starting with episode 6, and the thirteenth episode was nothing short of epic. This season premiere had a lot to live up to, and in my book, it did. Keeping everything that was good about episodes 6-12 alive and building it to new heights was exactly what I expected and wanted from this premiere, and it was exactly what I got. That, and razor sharp dialogue, great emotional moments, and wonderful characters. I even got an episode plot that wasn't standalone so much as it was a season plot cleverly disguised as a standalone. And Jamie Bamber being awesome and British and mean. And Amy Acker and Fran Kranz blowing my emotional equilibrium with every single scene. And Alexis Denishof as a Republican politician on a righteous rampage. And a hundred other, awesome little things. And beyond it all, looming in the horizon, chillingly conspicuous in its absence of overt reference, was episode thirteen and the both sad and scary taint it puts on every single little plot-development. As last season ended, I was hopeful about the show. As the thirteenth episode got out with the DVD, I got quite enthusiastic. Now, I'm sold for good. This show will be my favourite this autumn, I'm almost sure of it. Now let's just hope that episode 2 won't let down my soaring expectations.

Tomorrow, tomorrow
So is that all? Oh no. Oh no no no, is it ever not. Next month comes Star Wars: The Clone Wars back with its second season, a digitally animated show that in the latter half of season 1 quite surprised me with its (for Star Wars) rather complex stories and ethical dilemmas. I find myself almost embarrassingly excited to see if season 2 will make it even better. Also new in science fiction franchises next month will be Stargate: Universe, the Stargate-series' try at doing a Trek'y show with a darker frame than the predecessors in the vast SG-continuity. While I'm not a big fan of the old two, I've seen every single episode, which amounts to an ungodly amount of hours. There is no way I'm not following that continuity to its end now. Also? Robert Carlyle! So yeah. But still, my expectations are rather low, and checking this out is almost more of a duty I have to my standing previously mentioned ungodly commitment of time to this universe than it is any real interest.

Also in October is the final piece in the Battlestar Galactica-puzzle, as The Plan is released on DVD a good many months before it'll apparently air on Syfy. Seeing as I'm obviously a huge fan, and also wasn't as disappointed by the show's ending as many others were, I'm quite besides myself with anticipation for this promised answer to (hopefully all) remaining little nagging questions.

Finally, Legend of the Seeker will start back up towards the end of the autumn. Can't say I'm at all excited. I love the books, for all their flaws, but season 1 was as big a departure from those books as Quack Pack is from The Life and Times of $crooge McDuck. Entertaining in its own, cheesy, blatantly Xena-esque style and way, but not at all what I was wanting. Nor really a show quite suited for my tastes. Still, there is very little by the way of fantasy shows on air, and I sort of feel I should take what I can get. There's also the undeniable fact that season 1's very best episodes were in many ways rather good, even if the season as a whole was an insufferable cheesefest. So I might end up caving to my completism and deciding to follow this show yet another few steps further. We shall see.


-------

There. My autumn in TV-shows. I'm sure some additional surprises will turn up along the way in one form or another. Of shows airing this autumn, I should probably also check out Entourage, but with the six season head-start it has, that's severely unlikely to happen. Of other old shows, I'm coupling the new stuff with my first ever rewatch of Ally McBeal, where I'm currently mid-way in the penultimate season, and my first structured watch-through of the eminent Batman: the Animated Series. I've recently finished its spin-off Justice League: Unlimited as well as the British The Office, the miniseries State of Play, and a rewatch of the brilliant West Wing, so if you're interested in hearing what I think of any of these things, you should give a shout-out in the comments as I like mentioned probably won't find the time and energy to write proper reviews. (There should be some of West Wing already, though, if you're up to doing a little search).


Hopefully, there's one person out there who actually bothered to read all this. If not, well, that's another hour of my life wasted, I suppose. Cheers! And thanks for reading.

Abraham, at God's command, was going to slaughter his own son - the poor child in his ignorance even carried the wood. Abraham should have said to this supposed divine voice: 'that I am not to kill my beloved son is quite certain; that you who appear to me as God, I am not certain, nor can I ever be, even if the voice thunders from the sky.'

- Immanuel Kant in "The Disputes between the Philosophical and Theological Faculties",
as cited in Timothy H. Lim's The Dead Sea Scrolls - A Very Short Introduction, page 51.

Dexter, out loud: Yeah, I wound up with some unexpected time on my hands.
Dexter, voice-over: Like twenty years to life.

Dexter season 2 keeps up the dry wit, the strong focus on a season plot, and the intensity of season 1, yet is in many ways very different. Where season 1 was the story of how Dexter started to doubt his purpose in life, how his past was dug up and blended into his present, season 2 is the story of how Dexter is changed by these experiences and how he learns to cope with them.

By its very nature, then, season 2 is much less dark than season 1. Dexter, for the first time since he was three years old in some form of touch with his emotions, is not anymore in denial or ignorance of how things are neither with his memories nor with his present life. However, without those he's also finding himself without the certainty of his behaviour and ice-cold and removed way of treating his life and the people in it. Season 2's Dexter is a Dexter in turmoil - a turmoil he still cannot afford to let the outside world see.

The loss of Brian's towering makes the season far less omnious still, and as the focus now isn't anymore on whether or not Dexter will lose the little threads of humanity in him, the focus becomes whether or not Dexter will be put to justice for his actions instead.

Thus, the viewer's position is shifted, from following Dexter's life with a sense of dread and mistrust in season 1, hoping he'll come through and be more human but fearing he won't, to something else entirely - to following his life while rooting for him. In season 2, the moral ambiguity is a rather sudden presence in Dexter's own head, and with that, the ambiguity is ironically slipping out of focus for the viewer. Watching this, we root for him, wish he'll pull through, and have unequivocally positive feelings for him. In season 1, Dexter balanced a protagonist between hero and monster. In season 2, the monster is gradually and effortlessly made acceptable to the audience, and the hero gets the spotlight as the Miami police department and an immensely capable FBI agent starts investigating who's dropped all these garbage bags of human body parts in the ocean.

This works, though. It's a gradual and subtle change, one I only realised had occurred in hindsight as I was writing this post. It lets the plot shift to something new and less horrifying without making it feel like a loss in tension and quality. When the plot is about Dexter being on the verge of capture, the audience necessarily needs to feel certain they want him to evade it.

The supporting cast is improved over the first season. Debra is going through quite the character arc since her trauma with Rudy, and at the end of the season she's a strong, independent person showing nothing of the erratic and uncertain behaviour of old. Doakes really get to shine in this season as his grudge against Dexter becomes an obsession. Angel, who I somehow failed to mention in my season 1 review, is still as amazingly thoroughly fantastically decent as ever, and is probably one of the most heartbreakingly lovable grown male characters I've ever encountered. That man has not a vicious bone in his body, and he truly gets to show it time and time again over the course of the second season.

Most important among the supporting cast, though, is none of these, but one out of two big additions to the rooster, the special agent, Frank Lundy. In an amazing piece of casting, they've in Keith Carradine found a man who looks a little bit like Harry Morgan, sounds very much like him (as, interestingly, does Dexter in his inner voiceovers) and is a law enforcement prodigy for Debra to look up to - and can act the hell out of any scene he's in as well. (And I thought I was impressed with his Wild Bill Hickok on Deadwood!) Obviously, with her gigantic father issues, she falls for him, head over heels, but their building and growing relationship is among the best things in the season, and by far the best thing they've done with Debra's character so far. Lundy was the character making up for Brian's disappearance from the show, and damn it all if he doesn't fill the hole almost exactly.

The other new character with a lot of screentime is Lila (played memorably by Jaime Murray who I know only from her character on Hustle), the English artist slash ex-addict who starts infringing on Rita's territory when she catches interest in Dexter - and he in her, as he realises she sees through his inner turmoil and helps him figuring out who he really is. The character is tailored to be unlikeable, and she really is, but she's an ominous and sort of veiled scary sort of unlikeable and plays a vital if somewhat obvious part in the season. Rita gets far less to do in this season than in season 1, but she continues to be one of the show's most interesting characters, and grows quite a lot over the course of the episodes.

Dexter season 2 is less intense and nerve-wrecking than season 1, but that suits me just fine. It's just as addictive, at least almost as interesting, and probably even a nudge more entertaining. It brought a lot of the supporting cast from season 1 out from the corners to play without shifting the focus from Dexter, by making his present and not his past the main thing about the season. His past was not ignored, though, and his uncovering of new and hidden elements in it is still a very present aspect to the show. Much less original and fresh-feeling than season 1, the reason season 2 works so well is more than anything because it builds on what has gone before. Dexter's inner turmoil is only interesting because of the events of season 1, he's only relatable because of how unrelatable he was before, and so you only root for him because you know what's happened previously. In a very clever way, the show gets away with doing a far more by-the-book story of a charismatic criminal trying to evade a manhunt because it builds on a story which was anything but orthodox. Interestingly, that might be why it works - doing something traditional with this character is rather fresh after season 1.

I'm really psyched for the third season. I have no idea which direction they're going to take this show now, having more or less exhausted his past in season 1, used most of the little frictions baked into his present in season 2, and having the character himself once again at peace - though a new and different peace - with who and what he is. But season 2 has convinced me that odds are they'll have yet another surprising twist of the show done so subtly I only notice once the season is over. I don't like this show more after season 2 than after season 1, it's about the same when it comes down to how much I enjoy it, but I trust it more and feel confident it won't let me down in the future either. Much like as the audience, I don't feel more interested in Dexter, he's still very engaging but not really more so than before, but I trust him more and feel more confident that as the audience, I'm doing the right thing by rooting for him.

Of course, they'll probably pull that second rug there out from under my feet before I knew what hit me.

Seeing as my subscription failed to bring me issue 4 for some reason, I've not started reading this DC miniseries properly 'til now.


Anyway, quote issue two:

When I was a boy, my mother and ather were murdered before my very eyes.

I have dedicated my life to stopping that criminal, regardless of the forms or faces he wears.

Really, the form is of no consequence.

Ah, Batman.

He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using...

-Inigo Montoya, about the boat following theirs,
The Princess Bride.

For Romans, treachery was one of the marks of a Carthaginian. Punic 'good faith', Punica Fides, meant the opposite. Also, they were cruel and superstitious. These traits came together in ttheir human sacrifices, above all of their own children. Carthage was feminized. Carthaginian women were dangerous seducers, like the mythical Queen Dido. Carthaginian men were effeminate, wearing loose unbelted clothes, and lacked control of their sexual appetites. Getting others to do their fighting for them showed their cowardice. In Roman eyes, this could be explained by their living in Africa. It was considered that the hot sun meant that Africans had little blood in their bodies, and so, fearing to lose what little they did have, they were scared of wounds, and thus were cowards. A final 'proof' of their barbarity, their otherness, was that they were believed to eat dogs.

The negative ethnographic image of Carthaginians was constructed partly out of reality (they did sacrifice some of their children), and partly out of fantasy (they almost certainly did not eat dogs).

- Harry Sidebottom,
Ancient Warfare - A Very Short Introduction. page 9.

Miss Kingsley repeatedly chided the colonial powers for abolishing political systems they did not understand and for then showing pained surprise when the natives failed to reveal a proper gratitude.

The imperial story, she wrote, was very like "that improving fable of the kind-hearted she-elephant who, while out walking one day, inadvertently trod upon a partridge and killed it, and observing close at hand the bird's nest full of callow fledglings, dropped a tear, and saying 'I have feelings of a mother myself,' sat down upon the brood."

- Mary Kingsley on British impreialism in Africa in the 19th century,
as rendered by Basil Davidson in African Kingdoms, page 167-168.

When The Wealth of Nations was first published in March 1776 David Hume wrote to his old friend in terms of the greatest praise, while qualifying his hopes by remarking that 'the reading of it necessarily requires so much attention, and the public is disposed to give so little, that I shall still doubt for some time of its being at first very popular'. Strahan, Smith's publisher, wrote very much in the same vein when commenting that the sales of the book had been much more 'than I could have expected from a work that requires so much thought and reflection (qualities that do not abound among modern readers) to peruse to any purpose'.

- As rendered on page 11 in Andrew Skinner's introduction to the Penguin Classics edition of Adam Smith: The Wealth of Nations Books I-III

Offline... like an animal...

Scott Lynch, Sunday August 2nd, 2009, on twitter.

Even though the twitter-feed on this page seems to be unruly at best and completely inept at, er, real, and thus does not show this; my lack of activity here IS somewhat mitigated by my relatively active twittering. Two-sentence reviews of things I don't find the time or will to write out here can be found there quite frequently, as are more typical twitter-updates such as a remark on something I'm reading, disappointment or excitement over some small piece of insignificant news, or a recommendation of a link or similar.

Anyway, I figured there was a slight chance I might have two or three people who still sometimes read this weblog'y thing of mine and who wasn't aware, and maybe one of them would be interested, so consider this post a reminder. I am, of course, at http://twitter.com/LokiAesir .

I have never encountered men whose language, costume, or customs are foreign without speculating on the nature of the women of their race. There is always a connection, since the two are the growths of a single culture, just as the leaves of a tree, which one sees, and the fruit, which one does not see because it is hidden by the leaves, are the growths of a single organism. But the observer who would venture to predict the appearance and flavor of the fruit from the outline of a few leafy boughs seen (as it were) from a distance, must know a great deal about leaves and fruit if he is not to make himself ridiculous.

- Severian the Lictor,
in The Sword of the Lictor, third tale in The Book of the New Sun, by Gene Wolfe

Among two Nuba tribes in particular, the Korongo and t he Mesakin, life in the villages centers on ceremonial wrestling, a ritual that goes back farther than tribal memory extends and is undoubtedly a dramatization of a more warlike past. Every boy who is physically fit spends his youth mastering the rules and movements of this art, preparing himself step by step for the championship matches that mark the culmination of a wrestler's career. [...] Until he reaches marriageable age, the young wrestler spends half of every year at the wrestling camp and only visits home to fight in exhibition matches, to pick up supplies or to help with the harvest. When he does marry, he must leave the camp and give up wrestling: a wife, the Nuba firmly believe, saps a man of the strength to fight.

- Basil Davidson
in African Kingdoms, page 67-68.

I was going to entitle this post "Brotherhood, season 1-3", but as of yesterday, the show has officially not been renewed for a fourth season. What there is, then, is what you get. But what there is is worth getting. Come one, come all, as I pull my weblog-act together enough to post a review of Showtime's late Brotherhood.

Michael Caffee to his younger brother, after returning home after seven years: You're pissed at me.
Tommy Caffee: How can I be pissed? You're the prodigal son. You know, if Ma could, she'd kill every fatted calf in New England.
Michael: Ooh, you're wicked pissed.

As this quote shows, Brotherhood tells the tale of how a prodigal son returns to his family after seven years, and how he and his younger brother deal with their newfound co-existence in a fictional district of Rhode Island. Michael, a member of some standing in the local Irish Mob, and Tommy, a promising and popular politician in the State House of Representatives. The shows deals with how Tommy is torn between his career, wife and children and his love for his brother; a huge political liability to say the least. Simultaneously, it portrays Michael's re-integration into a criminal environment he had to flee seven years prior. They each have their issues, and they each have their values, and maybe most importantly, they both dearly love their little district. Michael sets out to use his shaky standing in the local mob to perform crimes he thinks will improve the neighborhood for the elderly and the children, while Tommy spends his days at the Rhode Island House of Representatives fighting hard to keep his district from being mowed over by the richer and more influential ones. The contrast between each characters intentions and morality and their actions and decisions are marvellously portrayed, and the show's by far strongest point.

The first show that springs to mind when one first checks out Brotherhood is indubitably The Sopranos, and this is likely not coincidental. But where the previous attempts I've seen from Showtime at making shows that pick up the torch from the critically acclaimed, dark and complex HBO-hits usually fall somewhat short, Brotherhood remains standing. No, it's no Sopranos, but it is darned good nonetheless. If you take out the psychological angle of The Sopranos, stir in the political aspects of the later seasons of The Wire, and adds a focus of two prominent main characters instead of just one or an entire ensemble, you'll get something that resembles Brotherhood pretty closely. Not quite measuring up to neither the potency of Sopranos nor the brilliance of Wire, Brotherhood is nevertheless a show that captures the same general feel of reality and quality hand in hand. Considering its inevitable comparisons to The Sopranos, Brotherhood makes the remarkable feat of not simply withering away in shame. This is a solid, well-made show that deserves a chance based on its own merits.

Brotherhood, importantly, have several interesting characters. Both the brothers are highly engaging, beautifully portrayed by Jason Isaacs and Jason Clarke, but many supporting characters shine as well. In particular I should mention Kevin Chapman's slick mob boss, Ethan Embry's morally ravaged detective, and Stivi Paskoski's drug-addict mob enforcer with a heart of gold. But the jewels here are many, and I only stop at three names to keep the review from becoming a gush-fest of characters and actors.

I mentioned The Wire, and thematically, Brotherhood is a close fit. Where the former looked at city corruption through the different layers of the city itself, Brotherhood looks at what it does to families, and in particular the family of the main characters. In my opinion, it does a grand job at it.

Also a mention here should go to the interesting use of episode titles. The first season's episodes are entirely named after passages in religious texts, particularly the Bible. It is thus up to the viewer to go and actually look them up - or at least read it where it has been copied down on the handy Wikipedia episode list. The second follows up by similarly referencing Bob Dylan lyrics. And in the third season, the episode titles are, to a one, Shakespeare-quotes. To me, this was highly interesting, and so I found I should make a note of it in this review.

The third and final season ends on a lovely note, with an ending that both tied up the main plots and left the viewer wanting more. As such, while I deeply resent the lack of a renewal for this show, it is an ending better than what most shows get.

If you will only watch one new TV-show this year, you can find those that are better, and I would be happy to recommend something else for you. But if, like me, you will try out two, three or maybe even four or five new TV-shows as the summer and autumn slides by, I seriously recommend you consider picking up the Brotherhood-DVDs. Because if this review made it sound like you'd like them, you probably will.