LOST

Now E4 are being a little naughty. Or more precisely Channel 4, the parent channel are.

I have cheerfully watched every episode of LOST on E4 because they show it one week in advance of Channel 4. I suppose it's meant as an enticement to get people to buy digiboxes as part of Tony Blair's drive to ditch analogue TV, or something.

I now find, having watched the penultimate episode of the season, that E4 are not showing the finale. Instead I have to wait a fortnight, until 11 January, when Channel 4 are showing the final two episodes as a double bill on the same night.

I am officially narked; especially as the story is clearly building up to something in that finale.

Damn them; damn them all.

LOST

Now E4 are being a little naughty. Or more precisely Channel 4, the parent channel are.

I have cheerfully watched every episode of LOST on E4 because they show it one week in advance of Channel 4. I suppose it's meant as an enticement to get people to buy digiboxes as part of Tony Blair's drive to ditch analogue TV, or something.

I now find, having watched the penultimate episode of the season, that E4 are not showing the finale. Instead I have to wait a fortnight, until 11 January, when Channel 4 are showing the final two episodes as a double bill on the same night.

I am officially narked; especially as the story is clearly building up to something in that finale.

Damn them; damn them all.

(no subject)

I don't know why, but last night I just could not get to sleep. I was still awake at 4am, but must, finally, have dozed off shortly after. It was all the odder since I normally have my little bouts of insomnia when I am either mulling something over, or have slept in too long the previous morning - neither case applied last night. I just couldn't doze off.

Ah well.

(no subject)

I don't know why, but last night I just could not get to sleep. I was still awake at 4am, but must, finally, have dozed off shortly after. It was all the odder since I normally have my little bouts of insomnia when I am either mulling something over, or have slept in too long the previous morning - neither case applied last night. I just couldn't doze off.

Ah well.

Calling Luthor Arkwright...

I think that I have worked out why I couldn't sleep last night. Sometime during the past twelve hours, I have made the transition from Earth Parallel 00 to one of the alternate parallels which intersect with our own. I cannot confirm this, because as yet I have to see any Airships plying their trade along the Imperial Air Routes. I suspect that in most respects this parallel must be very close to that which I am accustomed to inhabit, so once a few necessary adjustments have been made to my expectations I shall get along fine. The similarities extend to the fluff bunnies on the floor in the corner of my computer room, and the stack of unwashed laundry in the corner of my bedroom. I'm guessing, then, that this is no more than Parallel 0001, with only a minor divergence from my reality.

That might account for the paucity of Airships.

This reality contains a far more diligent and house-proud Beastie with whom to share the Athenaeum Club. I was shocked to wander downstairs to find that a SPRING CLEAN was under way, plus WASHING UP. I am not used to this, and having helped out a little (though Beastie is mostly to be blamed praised for this sudden infusion of domesticity), I have just spent a few minutes wandering around The Tower with a bin bag, picking up random items of detritus to take down to the bin.

Further signs exist that this is an alternative reality: His Beastiness has opened a Live Journal of his own: colonel_maxim, but has yet to write anything in it. Further evidence that reality is only slightly warped and not too far from the usual.

To be on the safe side and ensure that I have made the transition, rather than Beastie having been replaced by a Pod-Person, I shall slink around later tonight and check the cupboards for sounds of scritting and muffled moans. Some of them are big enough for a bundled Beastie to have been hidden in.

Calling Luthor Arkwright...

I think that I have worked out why I couldn't sleep last night. Sometime during the past twelve hours, I have made the transition from Earth Parallel 00 to one of the alternate parallels which intersect with our own. I cannot confirm this, because as yet I have to see any Airships plying their trade along the Imperial Air Routes. I suspect that in most respects this parallel must be very close to that which I am accustomed to inhabit, so once a few necessary adjustments have been made to my expectations I shall get along fine. The similarities extend to the fluff bunnies on the floor in the corner of my computer room, and the stack of unwashed laundry in the corner of my bedroom. I'm guessing, then, that this is no more than Parallel 0001, with only a minor divergence from my reality.

That might account for the paucity of Airships.

This reality contains a far more diligent and house-proud Beastie with whom to share the Athenaeum Club. I was shocked to wander downstairs to find that a SPRING CLEAN was under way, plus WASHING UP. I am not used to this, and having helped out a little (though Beastie is mostly to be blamed praised for this sudden infusion of domesticity), I have just spent a few minutes wandering around The Tower with a bin bag, picking up random items of detritus to take down to the bin.

Further signs exist that this is an alternative reality: His Beastiness has opened a Live Journal of his own: colonel_maxim, but has yet to write anything in it. Further evidence that reality is only slightly warped and not too far from the usual.

To be on the safe side and ensure that I have made the transition, rather than Beastie having been replaced by a Pod-Person, I shall slink around later tonight and check the cupboards for sounds of scritting and muffled moans. Some of them are big enough for a bundled Beastie to have been hidden in.