I'm Afraid Later May Be Too Early.

 Oh how I have been shamelessly bingeing on All Creatures Great And Small on PBS and despite being brought to bittersweet tears in almost every heartwarming episode I believe I have retained enough clarity of vision to see that this show has just changed the doily game. I don't think it has been since Mapp and Lucia the original that I have felt, if I may borrow a recent line from ACGAS, 'the ground shift beneath my feet' so much.

Our dear Georgie has brought many pearls of wisdom into our life not least of which is 'finger bowls are entitled to doilies and doilies are entitled to lace borders.' Some read the bible, some read the Koran, some read tea leaves on the Third Sunday in March, but I find that if it isn't to be found in Mapp and Lucia then I probably can do with another reading. 

ACGAS stands in glaring contrast to the rest of PBS content I suppose it just has to be said. The topless waterslide ride of insider political sycophancy couched in trite political takes that Washington Week has become since the sad passing of Gwen Ifill is a Friday night fixture best enjoyed on mute as mood lighting. Replacing Gwen with an inarticulate hyperventilating pin-cushion was a misstep.

PBS Newshour lost its anchor Judy Woodruff, but that isn't losing much and I am someone that adores Judy, but I also never failed to notice when there was a new terrorist group with a name she struggled to pronounce or some newly elected foreign leader might pose a similar linguistic challenge. This really somehow added to the charm of the always overreaching Newshour, but like with so many things Donald Trump swooped in and came to the rescue and PBS Newshour quickly became PBS What Trump Said Hour, then PBS Political Shit Show Hour and then finally to the now long running and dare I say venerable PBS American Politics Is All You Really Should Care About Hour.

Judy soon found herself right at home helming the stripped-down insular self-involved American minded programming where no one's responsibilities extended further than allowing some meaningless government spokesperson an opportunity to regurgitate some highly edited talking points entirely unchallenged save a couple underhanded soft-balls and never on a topic outside of insider-beltway politics, but Judy is getting on and it was time for a change I suppose, but changing the rims on a jacked-up rusted-out Renegade with high-miles and no warranty may not be the best way to spend one's viewers monthly Passport contributions.  

Clearly I have some views on PBS not all positive, but when I watch UCGAS it almost makes me want to reach for my wallet and pledge a monthly contribution.  Which is why I always keep a list of PBS's corporate funders within reach so I never fall into that trap, Fool me once.

I Will Never Stop Judging You.

Dinner table conversation dragged a little last night. So much so that the discussion eventually meandered into Oscar nominations. I suppose the only way one could explain this is that a prolonged silence allowed one to overhear the florid ejaculations of trembling Entertainment Tonight host on the television in the adjoining room. 

I fortified myself with some mashed potato, but I knew where this was heading.  Once fully underway I tried unsuccessfully to conceal my displeasure at having to engage with such a vulgar topic. I was only momentarily heartened by some green beans and the hope that a squawking magpie might be overheard outside the window thus allowing me to steer the conversation to a more sedately agreeable topic: Birds, the great winged menace we all face.

But, alas, it would seem that the moment you actually need a squawking magpie to interrupt an offensive table conversation one is not actually around.  Before I knew it the conversation gained so much steam and bewildering enthusiasm that I could have dropped dead right there on the spot and they would not have changed the subject. 

I tried my best to keep up and assisted with the pronunciation of The Banshees of Inisherin, twice before it occurred to me that the Oscars have devolved into some type of Celebrity Dress-Up Oprah Give-Away program where you get a nomination, and you get a nomination, and she gets a nomination, and Jamie Lee Fucking Curtis gets a nomination, and how about Top Gun? That one too.

Once the deranged exchange of celebrity names reached a merciful lull I decided it was the moment to share my painfully snobbish observation and this thankfully brought the idiotic topic to a close almost with as much ease as a fortuitously positioned bird. 

Altogether Unrelated To Nothing Whatsoever.

Another glorious morning in the subfreezing depths of Idaho began with someone sending me and another 134 employees a detailed email regarding an intestinal flu which had apparently not only ravaged her throughout the weekend, but also it would seem tore through her family infecting most of them as well.

I can't imagine why I would need to know this and I realize people do things they otherwise would never do when they are racked with infirmity, but this is another example where my frozen entropy philosophy plays out brilliantly. 

Sometimes doing nothing is not only entirely fine; sometimes doing nothing is the best course of action: Don't send that email, don't 'reach out', for fuck's sake don't pick up the phone, just sit there and indulge in self care until you are ready to send a proper email to the people and only to the people who need to know. I can relate through repeated experience that if you do not show up to work for three days, or nowadays if you do not log on and work for three days, they will 'reach out' to you, and then you can advise them of your condition, but only after thanking them for their concern, and reminding them that it is none of their business. 

I also can chalk it up to youthful misadventure. Goodness knows what mischief I would have gotten myself into if after only moments after leaving school I was able to email thousands of people around the world with a keystroke. The hellfire. 

The lesson, if there is one, is that technology can hinder humanity as much as it can help. Ultimately it shall enslave us (I've spent no less than 20 minutes already today doom-scrolling other people's cat issues), but until then we need to strive to find a balance between using technology and getting completely played by it.

I just peaked back at my inbox for hopefully the last time today and it seems that the good people of remote-office Earth have tried to insulate Ms. send-all intestinal flu Esq. from her humiliation by bombarding everyone's inbox with numerous emails containing every manner of extraneous inquiry one could imagine. I really wasn't expecting such unsolicited kindnesses on a Monday.