Skip to main content

Hands up - You're surrounded by armed bastards


Chuffin' Nora!

Did ANYONE see that little lot coming?! Ashes To Ashes finished on Friday with a jaw-dropping finale in which... *sob* the Audi Quattro got killed. (Trembling lip here. Snuffle.)

Nuts to Lost - this was an epic bit of finale television. Unless you've seen it (or it's predecessor, Life On Mars) it's about a detective who (for Alex Drake at least) got shot and wakes up in the early '80s. If the nostalgia didn't do it for you, the time-travel bit didn't either, then surely the brilliant, arsey, sexist, grumpy, beligerent Gene Hunt must have.

Long story short (look away now if you haven't seen it yet!)... Alex is dead. Only she didn't know it. Jim was... er... an emissary of the devil(?) Sent to tempt Gene's crew to hell, Gene's loyal team were all in fact from different era's and were also all dead (but didn't know it), Gene hinself could be St Peter, helping lost souls to cross over, except maybe the barman at the ghostly boozer get's that title. Gene's also dead (shot in the face as a young PC) and buried on a hill, but it seems he's there to... help... people cross over. Alex and Sam Tyler before her weren't dead, but dying. Did I miss anything?

I'm really going to miss that show...

DI Alex Drake: You're taller than I imagined.
DCI Gene Hunt: I'm bigger in every department.

(More Motown tonight - The Four Tops, "I Got A Feeling")

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

Suffering from natural obsolescence

You know you’re getting old when it dawns on you that you’re outliving technological breakthroughs. You know the sort of thing – something revolutionary, that heralds a seismic shift it the way the modern world operates. Clever, time-saving, breathtaking and life-changing (and featuring a circuit board). It’s the future, baby! Until it isn’t any more. I got to pondering this when we laughed heartily in the office about someone asking if our camcorder used “tape”. Tape? Get with the times, Daddy-o! If it ain’t digital then for-get-it! I then attempted to explain to an impossibly young colleague that video tape in a camcorder was indeed once a “thing”, requiring the carrying of something the size of a briefcase around on your shoulder, containing batteries normally reserved for a bus, and a start-up time from pressing ‘Record’ so lengthy, couples were already getting divorced by the time it was ready to record them saying “I do”. After explaining what tape was, I realised I’d ...

A fisful of change at the shops

A recent day out reminded me how much the retail experience has altered during my lifetime – and it’s not all good. I could stop typing this, and buy a fridge, in a matter of seconds. The shops are shut and it’s 9pm, but I could still place the order and arrange delivery. I haven’t got to wander round a white-goods retail emporium trying to work out which slightly different version of something that keeps my cider cold is better. It’ll be cheaper, too. But in amongst the convenience, endless choice and bargains, we’ve lost some of the personal, human, touches that used to make a trip to the shops something more than just a daily chore. Last weekend, we visited a local coastal town. Amongst the shops selling over-priced imported home accessories (who doesn’t need another roughly-hewn wooden heart, poorly painted and a bargain at £10?) was one that looked different. It’s window allowed you to see in, rather than being plastered with stick-on graphics and special offers calling ...