Remember all that rainfall we haven’t received over the past nine months? The drought? The sixteen inch deficit for 2011 to date? There’s a decent chance we might make up most of it later on this week.
It’s early days, and Don doesn’t even officially have that name yet, but the tropical disturbance will likely become at least a tropical storm, which will then scoot across the gulf, perhaps even becoming a hurricane along the way. Current (and very, very premature) estimates show landfall south of us, which means we could get a healthy soaking come Friday. We’ve actually been doing not too badly in July—we’re only down about half an inch for the month compared to the average—but still a long way to go to refill the depleted reservoirs.
We decided to start our new DVD series marathon with Dexter and, after just a few episodes, my wife said she liked it enough to go ahead and get the other seasons. Season 5 doesn’t come out for a couple of weeks, but I figure four seasons should last us at least until then. It’s interesting, rewatching the first season after all these years. The little things I didn’t know to notice at the time, such as the first time that we actually see the Ice Truck Killer without having a foggy clue that’s who it is. And seeing these characters in the early days, when they’re still finding their legs. Deb especially.
Episode 3 of Torchwood gives us a hint at who the actual culprit behind “the miracle” might be. Big pharma! One, in particular, called Phi-Corp, that manufactures the kinds of drugs that are now in high demand. The main clue to the culpability is the fact that they were stockpiling these drugs long before people stopped dying, which means they were either behind the phenomenon or knew it was coming.
Oswald Danes continues to develop into an interesting character. He makes an idle comment during an interview that he thinks drug companies should start giving away their products instead of capitalizing on the situation. Then he’s swept off to visit Phi-Corp and he’s suddenly changing his tune: he doesn’t want drugs to be free—he wants them to be freely accessible, which means no more prescriptions. He takes his lumps for his past, though. On an unauthorized expedition to a coffee shop, he’s chased by a thuggish couple who recognize him, throwing his final words about his young victim (“she should have run faster”) in his face as they chase him down the street. He is “saved” by a couple of patrol cops, who thrash him in a dark alley before delivering him back to his motel. “You should have run faster.” His confrontation with Jack reveals his conflict. He craves execution but he’s “in a world without death, and it’s killing you.”
This episode had a lot more British vs. American humo(ur), with Esther acting as translator for certain words and phrases. Also a lot more sex. Rex runs away from the Torchwood gang and ends up in the sack with Dr. Vera Juarez. Jack runs off to a gay bar and ends up in bed with some random dude. Poor Rex, he’s always bleeding from his wound. When Jack shows up with a hangover and cops some of Rex’s pain killers, Rex complains. “I need them, too,” Jack says. “You weren’t impaled,” Rex counters. “You should see the other guy,” Jack says with a sly grin.
There was less about the implications of the situation than in the previous episodes. A woman was choked by her boyfriend, her windpipe pulverized, but of course she’s still alive. “This is what murder looks like now,” someone observes. People can’t even be charged with attempted murder any longer. And when Jack visits the bar, he discovers that “people are throwing a lot of sober out the window.” A bowl on the bar contains discarded sobriety chips. A group of masked protesters, almost mourners, call themselves the soulless because they think that everlasting life has robbed them of their souls.
One thing I notice about Breaking Bad is that the camera rarely moves. Gives the show a dramatic look. There are cuts, and the occasional pan, but a lot of steady camera (as opposed to SteadiCam). The second episode was interesting. It consisted of two main plot lines. First, there was Walt acquiring a gun so he could get rid of the threat he perceives from Gus. Jim Beaver from Deadwood plays the gun dealer who advises him to get a .38 special. It’s less conspicuous than the automatic and has fewer bullets. “If you can’t get it done in five shots, you’re into spray and pray and I wouldn’t expect six more to close the deal.” He practices drawing and packs the gun the next day he goes to work at the drug lab. Mike seems to be running the show there now, asking for a second weigh and telling Walt that he’ll never see Gus again. Walt then decides to visit Gus at home but his cell phone rings as he crosses the street and it’s Gus, telling Walt to go home. His final gambit: trying to convince Mike that they are both vulnerable after what happened to Victor. “Get me in a room with him and I’ll do the rest.” Mike’s answer is pretty clear. He punches Walt and kicks him twice when he’s down, then thanks him for buying him a drink.
In parallel, Jesse is partying like it’s 1999. He spent a ton of money on a big DJ-ready sound system with all the accouterments. When Badger and Skinny Pete come to visit, he offers them drugs. At first they say they’re on the 12-step program, but he quickly wears them down. Badger and Pete get philosophical over the zombie versions of video games. One of the funniest conversations ever:
Badger: That’s the bomb, bro. Think on it. They’re not just zombies. They’re Nazi zombies.
Pete: Nazi zombies.
Badger: SS Waffen troopers, too, which are like the baddest ass Nazis of the whole Nazi family.
Pete: Zombies are dead, man. What difference does it make what their jobs was when they was living.
Badger: Dude, you are so historically retarded. Nazi zombies don’t want to eat you just cuz they’re craving the protein. They do it cuz they hate Americans, man. They’re the Taliban of the zombie world.
Pete: I played the game, man. They ain’t exactly fleet of foot. I mean, where’s the challenge? At least the zombies in Left For Dead clock a respectable 40.
Badger: Apples and oranges. Totally unfair to compare the two.
Suddenly his place is crammed full of people. It reminds me of the Larry Underwood scenes from early in The Stand. Wall-to-wall partiers dancing to really loud techno. There’s another funny (irrelevant but funny) discussion about a pizza place where the gimmick is that they don’t cut the pies. “They pass the savings on to you,” Badger says. “What savings? How much can it be to cut a damn pizza.” Badger is pretty stoned by now. “You make like 10 million pizzas a year. You figure it takes 10 seconds to cut each one. It adds up. In man hours that’s like…I don’t know!”
The next morning, the place looks like Woodstock. Wall to wall bodies. A camera mounted on a Roomba threads its way through them, giving a funny perspective on the fallout. Badger is draped over a stool, his head leaning back, when the Roomba goes by. He sits up. “Did that just happen?” But Jesse isn’t ready to quit yet. He has to go to work, but he wants the party to be going full out when he gets home. Finally, he wears everyone out. Badger (“I need a brain transplant right now”) and Pete need to go home to sleep it off—they’ve been up for three days straight. “Maybe we’ll see you next week,” they tell Jesse.
