BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I have no doubt that some of you are far too young to have any clue what the hell the title of this blog references. Or, more importantly, my hidden meaning behind it. But, since you, my readers, tend to surprise me at every turn, I could well be wrong and every single one one of you might know exactly what I am trying to say, in which case you can probably just stop reading now and save yourself some time. Or not. I mean, what fun would that be?

At any rate, I suppose you will let me know. You always do…

So, let’s make our traditional left turn at the Jersey turnpike and start somewhere left and slightly above the middle, like usual…

There I sat last night watching the premiere of “168”. Now, don’t go running to the TV guide looking to see if there is a new show you haven’t heard about, because I’m sure you’ve heard of this one, just not by that particular title. It’s actually pretty easy if you do the math – 168 / 24 = 7. So, yeah, what I’m talking about is “24” season 7 (or as they say, “day 7″…) If you happen to be one of the folks who gave up on this series after the mind numbingly repetetive, lackluster, shamelessly predictable, unbelievable (even with suspension of disbelief), and horribly cardboard cutout seasons three through six, I don’t blame you. I almost did so myself. As a matter of fact, I had quite vocally resolved not to waste my time with it ever again. Why I bothered to watch seasons three through six is beyond me. It probably had something to do with brain drain. (At this point I do feel compelled to note that while seasons 3-6 were at best, unimpressive, the first 12 episodes of season 4 DID contain a very shiny bright spot – that being a friend of mine, Alberta Watson, who portrayed Erin Driscoll, head of CTU. She could have kicked Bauer’s ass, and they should have let her… But, that’s just my opinion.)

At any rate, like I said, I wouldn’t blame you at all if you have given up on “24”, 48, 72, ad nauseum. However, after seeing a couple of clips and hearing a fairly well balanced review and interview on NPR, I bought into enough of the hype to give it a go. To my genuine surprise, “the following that took place between the hours of 8AM and 10AM,” last night didn’t suck at all. In fact, they were pretty good. Therefore, I will be parked in front of the “toob” tonight in order to catch, “the following that took place between the hours of 10AM and 12PM.” If those are also blatantly suckless in value, then I am likely to follow it right on round the clock to 8AM once again. Of course, it doesn’t hurt at all that there’s a smokin’ hot, redheaded FBI babe paired up with Bauer this season. Or that she is portrayed by actress Annie Wersching, who grew up right here in Saint Louis (local pride and all, ya’know…). And, we all know my penchant for redheads with strong personalities… (yeah, I know, ‘nother blog…)

On a side note – if some intern at FOX is scouring the internet for references to “24“, 168, what have you, in order to do market research and happens to run across this blog, I have two messages for the powers that be: First, cancelling Firefly was epic fail, kids. You shot that series in the foot, then blamed it for your incompetence and used that as a reason to cancel it. Admit your mistake and fix it. Secondly, where “24” is concerned, tell your writers that it will suck even less if at some point Bauer gets tired and has nappy time. They included this in season one, and that is one of the things that made it believable. Yeah, he can stay up for 24 hours straight, but he can’t be fresh as a daisy the whole time. Give us a break…We’ve all stayed up past midnight at some point in our lives, so we know what kind of effect it has on a person. We are nowhere near as stupid as you think we are…

Now, back to the regularly scheduled rambling…

But, ya’know, I didn’t come here to give you a review of 168 / 7 today…I didn’t even come here to yak about dominos…well, actually I’m lying about that last part. Dominos seem to be a big part of my life at the moment. Everything triggers a memory and there ya’ go…

So, anyway, Network 23…wait, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

So, anyway, DTV…The wonderful, federally mandated, “Digital Television”… Yeah, okay… So, they are forcing broadcasters to switch to a digital signal, thereby forcing consumers to switch/upgrade/otherwise retrofit their receivers to be able to handle said digital signal. This is all being done in the name of freeing up the analog airwaves for other uses. Not sure why that is, honestly. I mean, why couldn’t the other uses just go ahead and use the digital band and leave well enough alone?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m am not some kind of stick in the mud…well, yeah, maybe I am…but, that’s not the point. Stop getting me sidetracked…What I’m trying to say is that I am certainly not against digital technology. I’m sitting here using a computer, correct? I spent 25 years as a computer technician, and recently discovered that my skills haven’t completely rusted shut – not just yet, anyway. I was even a partner in a recording studio some years back, and for the day, we had the latest and greatest digital equipment available. Yet, we still had clients who insisted on using “tube mics” (analog microphones) and analog tape, because of the ambiance it would lend to the sound…

But, here’s why I am having a bit of a problem with this whole DTV thing – Federal mandate and added cost aside. (I mean, I already have satellite TV, so I’m not actually affected where the whole buying a converter box thing is concerned…) My issue is quality. Yeah. Imagine that.

“But Murv, digital is so much clearer, blah blah blah…”

Is it? One would think, yes. I mean, even I thought it would be. But, last night as I sat watching “168” I was proven wrong. You see, throughout both hours of the program it was plagued with digital dropout, signal loss, bizarre digital artifacts, and yes, the good ole “Max Headroom” syndrome, whereby Jack Bauer spent a good part of the time stuttering across my screen as he jerked about like someone holding on to a bare extension cord.

Some of you old timers are now understanding the reference in the title. Those of you who aren’t are probably following the Max Headroom link and will get it very shortly.

So, here’s my thing… I have no idea what the government plans to do with all of these analog frequencies they are freeing up. I think I saw an article about it once, but quite honestly it wasn’t important enough at the time for me to care and remember what it said. However, if DTV is going to effectively thrust us back into the age of Black and White Cathode Ray Tubes and Rabbit Ears with tin foil (yeah, it was tin before it was aluminum) wrapped around them (something I am, unfortunately, plenty old enough to remember quite vividly), I can see a revolution coming…

Just like in Max Headroom. Beat up Winnebagos and Buses traveling the highways pursued by the FCC in their dark government sedans. Constantly hiding out in alleyways, cranking up retractable mast antennas, and all  manned by cyberpunkish folks like Blank Reg and Dominique (see Max Headroom link). A ragtag group of dissenters, defiantly broadcasting whatever they can on pirated analog frequencies, if for no other reason than to provide a picture that doesn’t jerk around the screen like a frog in a hot frying pan before randomly turning into colorful little squares and jibbering like a CD with a scratch in it.

Hmmmm… I already know what EK looks like in leather. (uh-huh, another blog… and probably not Myspace friendly…) I wonder what I would look like in a purple mohawk and a handful of tattoos? Maybe I should buy myself a used schoolbus and go visit an auction or two. I’m betting analog transmitters are gonna be going cheap…

More to come…

Murv

Well, actually, I have been, but that’s a different story.

So, why do I want to be on TV? For the fame? The glory? The hot chicks?

To be honest, none of the above.

Let’s step back for a minute. Not to TV land, but to early last week in Murvland. For reasons that don’t bear exploring at this juncture I had to make a mad dash to the hardware store during a downpour. For yet still other reasons that don’t bear exploring, while in the parking lot of said store I fell. I fell hard. I fell hard three times. Onto concrete. Wet concrete. Hard, wet, concrete.

Okay, you get the idea.

Anyhow, I was bruised. I have a purple hip and a purple stomach where I fell on top of the item I was carrying, (yeah, for a dyed in the wool Browncoat to have a “purple belly” it really sucks). I also have shattered cartilage in one knee, and a lot of achey muscles. I’m not as bad off as I was last week, but I’m still a bit sore here and there.

Now, this incident didn’t stop me from going on with my life. I didn’t end up in the hospital or anything that drastic. However, at 46 and some change one does not just get up, brush off, and go on as if nothing happened. No, that is reserved for the 20 year olds… So, while I was still moving about, it was slow going, with a lot of pain. Yes, I groaned, moaned, and even whined a bit.

What in the name of Pete does this have to do with being on TV, you ask…

No, there weren’t any cameras in the parking lot filming me… Well, actually I don’t know if there were or not. Maybe there were and I just haven’t seen the Youtube video just yet. But, that’s neither here nor there… I fell, I hurt, I moved slow…

Now, on TV it is a different story. I watched the season finales of Bones and House the other night and discovered that the world inside the tube is radically different. People almost completely heal within hours or even minutes. For the truly horrid injuries it might take a couple of days, but that’s just for the REALLY life threatening stuff.

For instance – On Bones one of the main characters took a penetrating round from a revolver. I didn’t get a good enough look at it to say what caliber, but it was at a minimum a .38. Moreover, the wound was in his right chest. He wasn’t wearing body armor or a bullet proof vest either. He bled a lot. He passed out. We didn’t know whether or not he would survive. Something on the order of one week later (maybe even less) he was not only up moving around, but tackling bad guys and waving his arms about. The only evidence of the wound was that he was wearing a bandaid. Other than that, he was just fine and dandy. Now, I won’t even go into the rest of the stupidity that tried to pass for a storyline in that episode, but suffice it to say, unless Patrick Duffy shows up in a shower at the beginning of the first episode next season, they’ve lost me as a viewer.

On House we had yet another semi-miracle. Of course, Hugh and the crew perform those weekly, but this one was really cool (in some ways, literally). A patient who had been severely injured in a bus crash, then purposely put into hypothermia, including filling her lungs with slurry, is warmed up and re-awakened (basically so they can tell her she is dead as soon as they turn off the bypass machine or in a few hours, whichever comes first). She lays on the bed and carries on a clear and coherent conversation with her boyfriend so they can say goodbye. The fun part about this (besides the enormous technical inaccuracies that a layman could spot) was the fact that this two part episode only spanned something like 24 hours in TV time. What I found really amazing about this is how clear, coherent, and without pain she was. You see, when my appendix burst several years ago I spent a week in the hospital. I won’t go into the gory details, but I wasn’t clear and coherent for at least 3 days. I wasn’t without pain for better than a week. After what she endured, and with the limited time frame, I’m thinking maybe a handful of “ouches” and an “I forgot what I was saying, sorry about that,” or two would have been in order.

So, you see… That’s why I want to be on TV. It obviously doesn’t hurt as much when you get injured, and apparently it doesn’t hurt anywhere near as long. I could definitely do with the not hurting.

But, even if I don’t get to be on TV, I suppose I will never write for it either. Why? Because, in my mind if I write something it has to make sense. Sure, even I have elements to my stories that require suspension of disbelief, but you are only allowed just so much of that before suspension turns into “you’ve gotta be effing kidding me…”

You see, suspending it is one thing. Shooting it in the head, burying it in the back yard, and forgetting you ever saw it is completely different. It’s also not very nice.

More to come…

Murv