I got lots to say about TV: I watch much too much of it; between it and the internet, I’ve lost everything I could have been.
OK, so that’s a bit over the top. However, I do watch alot of it, again, like the internet, for distraction, and entertainment of course. But more often than not, I’m hardly ever entertained.
Given that, some notes about the series CRACKER, a British Crime series mostly written by Jimmy McGovern (who later wrote another incredible series called “The Street”) that feature an alcoholic, gambling and philanderous criminal psychologst Dr Edward “Fitz” Fitzgerald, played by Robbie Coltrane. The series was clearly dated, you could tell that it was shot during the nineties, but the stories were incredibly complex in their emotional depth and impact. 
Anyway, this recent episode really just blew my mind: it was very visceral, very hands on. The idea that 9-11 and the global war on terror drowns out, belittles, all previous terrorist activity that people who have suffered first hand almost on a daily basis (i.e. the UK and the IRA), is both fascinating and troubling. It’s intriguing in the sense that the world caught up in this drama that has the US as its lead, but as this episode tries to demonstrate, this is not the drama the world has been living, and the US has usurped the world’s fear, grief and anger for it’s own purposes.
As the antagonist of the episode points out, the US had no problems facilitating terrorism abroad before, but now, suddenly, the US has taken it upon itself to dictate the terms and focus of the war on terror. It is now THIS war, in Afghanistan. Now it is THIS war, in Iraq; etc. etc. How arrogant and selfish, as if before 9-11, there was no terrorism.
Yes, Fitz is an antihero: he is not good looking, slim, athletic or even faithful. He is not driven to discover the truth or to honor the dead. All that matters is finding the suspect and breaking him or her down, to crack them. The rush is not in solving the crime, but where he has to go in his head to figure the killers out. The episode opens with Fitz at his daughter’s wedding arguing about 9-11. Six years later, we’re in Afghanistan and Iraq, Iran wants to go nuclear while supplying Hezzbolah in its conflict with Israel in Lebanon. And, just like the gentleman whom Fitz was arguing with, when it comes to 9-11, we’re still frustrated, angry and, ultimately, speechless on the subject.

24 is done, Day 5 wrapped up nicely in one tight bow with a cliffhanger that was actually compelling and nail biting.
At the end of Day 4, our hero Jack Bauer walked off in to the sunset persona nongrata, he no longer existed, he was dead and preseumably safe. this obviously wasn’t going to the case with day 5, and admittedly day 5 just did not stop in its suspense. apparently the show’s producers and writers have done away with the dragging sub pluts (although apparently they always, always have to involve a sibling or two and, it never fails, a mole -which initself is becoming predictable) and relied instead on pure overdrive.
the problem with 24, in general and always has geen, is its dialogue: it’s stilted, forced and unnatural: all in all it sucks and oftentimes just does not make any sense.
24 is truly a show where actions speak louder than words.
LOST wrapped up as well and truly it was a very satisfying season finale: jack, kate and sawyer have been taken by the Others; locke and ecko are missing (although not presumed dead, like desmond); charlie finally makes it to first base with claire, and michael drives off in a boat with walt. and to top it all off: desmond’s true love has apparently been looking for him as an ice station are apparently one of the poles caught the electromagnetic event set off by desmond.
the show has definitely evolved past it’s shipwrecked roots, with the introduction of the hatch and the stations throughout the island: the hatch proper with the button, the medical lab, and the observation booth. it looked like there might have been a fourth, but it turns out it was prop used by the others. we know that it’s some sort of experiment and researchers from all over the world had participated in it, but is it still going on? and what is the point of it? is it a Lord of the Flies kind of thing or something that has gone completely off course?
next season promises to be about the others, “the good guys”, as henry gale put it, who is apprently their leader. the wrters/producers are weaving a pretty intricate web here and while it’s fairly complex, its complexity makes it very fragile and i hope they’re careful with it. lest lost suffer the same fate as ALIAS which fell apart, collapsing under its very premise.
alias is finally done and over with, too quick, too rushed, but i’m not sad to see it go. the show disappointed me consistently and constantly since the 3rd season, so watching it to the end was just out of respect. there was simply no more heart to the show: after you literally save the world (in season 4) from zombification a la 28 days rage style, everything else that follows would just be silly.

City hooker ring KOd
Hi-Res | Lo-Res
Video from WNBC; Article from THE DAILY NEWS
Operated through web
BY ROBERT GEARTY and GREG B. SMITH
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITERS
‘Emmanualla’ is allegedly one of hookers once ‘available in New York City’ through NY Elites before Immigration and Customs agents busted up the ring and charged its alleged ringleader.
A multimillion-dollar Manhattan-based prostitution ring used the Internet to snag customers and arrange “dates” with hundreds of supposed supermodels in 22 states, prosecutors charged yesterday.
NY Elites promised “stunning European knockouts” with names such as Vanessa, Roxy and Katrina – charging $500 to $1,500 per hour for sex in hotels from coast to coast, authorities say.
The federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency raided Elites’ E. 32nd St. headquarters and discovered records listing the names of more than 200 hookers, according to court papers.
At 6 a.m. yesterday, agents busted alleged ringleader Rady Abdel Salem Abbassy. But they missed his girlfriend and alleged partner, Elena Trochtchenkova, who remains a fugitive, prosecutors said.
The ring operated out of an eighth-floor suite off Fifth Ave. where “dispatchers” took calls from johns drawn via a Web site.
The site depicted numerous women who supposedly “appeared on the covers of many mainstream European magazines,” providing a résumé with every physical detail.
Yesterday it featured 5-foot-6, 116-pound Vanessa with the come-on: “Call and Reserve Vanessa today!” She was allegedly “available in New York City” from last week until Sunday.
“If you are in need of beautiful companionship and sharp intellect, check out the most sought after escorts in the New York area,” the Web site promised.
Three of the pricey call girls turned informants and told of being sent on two-week “tours” to other cities, according to affidavits by Immigration and Customs agent Theodore Psahos.
The escort service used Hotwire, an Internet travel agency, to book hotel rooms for customers. Records show the service booked rooms in 22 cities, including New York, Boston, Chicago and San Francisco. Hotwire officials, who are not accused of any wrongdoing, cooperated with the probe.
Immigration agents discovered $5.5 million in deposits into accounts linked to NY Elites, mostly from credit card payments, prosecutors alleged.
But investigators believe the ring netted much more money, noting that most customers paid with cash.
The ring was quite sophisticated, requiring all first-time users to provide detailed personal information to filter out potential law enforcement agents.
Only after callers were cleared could they request specific women and particular sex acts, prosecutors alleged. “Incomplete forms will not be accepted,” the site warned.
Call girls would collect payments upfront, and deliver cash or credit card receipts to the dispatchers, prosecutors said.
Yesterday, a spokesman for Immigration and Customs confirmed the arrests and said the agency would release more information today.
In Manhattan Federal Court, accused ringleader Abbassy was detained when prosecutor Benjamin Gruenstein alleged he was in the U.S. illegally after being deported to Egypt for a 1985 marijuana conviction.
Two women, Valerie Hairston and Nancy Khaja, alleged to be dispatchers, were released on $100,000 bond.
Originally published on April 12, 2005

woke up around eleven am today, having gone to sleep at 6:30 am, just
to get a head start on the day.
went to circuit city, bought about a hundred dollar’s worth of coax,
speaker wire & plugs.
came home and started screwing the surround speakers up on the rafters
in the basement here, then started laying and stapling the wire.
get to the next to last speaker and guess what, ran out of wire.
so i stop there, fuck it, buy more speaker wire tomorrow. got the
center, sub and two rear speakers already hooked up to the receiver and
i decide to fire it up.
nothing, nada, zilch. not even a hum. the shit kicker is that the
led/osd on this thing went out about a month ago so i have no fucking
clue what settings are screwed up if any.
ok, fuck that too. i can live without a receiver until the summer time,
when we get caught up with all these other expenses.
so instead i ran some straight over the air antenna lines to the living
room and guest room. discovered i could see straight into the
boiler room from the guest room closet. i could like drop a pack a
cigarettes between floors.
then i start fooling around with that new satellite receiver that
came in yesterday. popped in the latest firmware and literally 2 minutes
after that, i’m flipping through dish like nobody’s business. but this is in
the basement, i want to put this bad boy in the bedroom. i found old
cabling in the wall that was rg-59, not satellite rated, but it was
splitting into a newer rg-6 line that ran right up into the master
bedroom. the trick was to get from the boiler room to that rg-6 line in
the den through the rafters and underneath the stairs.
but i just finished and feel like i actually got something done.

and i push her to start with the boxes because i know they’re going to pile up and out and on top of each other until we are on top of each other without the interesting bits that used to happen when we were all alone before baby.
but she dilly and dallied until i started pulling her hair out or putting out the fire that is her thinking about it and just got it all moving along and even the baby helped by putting things in and, with a moment’s hesitation, putting them back out until i reached down and wrapped the edges round and round with tape even if i might have snagged baby’s hand between the seams from time to time.
and each time i thought i was done there was another corner with an article of clothing or an electronic doodad or niggling piece of nostalgia that begged for attention, inspection and packaging, and from neatly ordered and marked boxes of contents and destination it too soon became misc this over here to misc there.
i even had her feet in my hands pushing her up above closets into attics wobbling for the last piece of something or the other that we hadn’t seen in years, completely forgotten about but couldn’t let go for the life of us. when the boxes started covering the floor and blocking our view of the street where we would soon no longer face, the down and up to the tops of the closests finally bummed my left knee and i hobbled on to work.
every joint hurts, sore in the places where little muscles join big ones and a whole life gets packed right in front of your eyes in practically no time at all.