a moment ago i figured i'd drop by the other life, drop a few comments on the first ep of Lars Von Trier's The Kingdom which i'd just finished watching before this head cold (or the first generation antihistamine i took last night, which always puts me out of commission for at least three days) got the best of me, dragged me off to bed with its arch viral gravity and Maelstrom 2'd my head onto the pillow. quite possibly with a satisfying thwop.
too late. i'm halfway there.
suffice to say The Kingdom (i.e., Riget, as it is more properly called according to imdb or some other site...'struth, just googled it, and it comes onscreen after the jarringly dated opening-credits-sequence-thingum before breaking apart like cheap styrofoam or plyboard and bleeding what looks like sewer water or dirty laundry water sans detergent or some other appropriately probably artificially colored water all over the place) is of a totally different species of television from Stephen King's bastard Kingdom Hospital. 'sfar as i can tell so far anyway. no annoying talking anteater for one thing. plus, being shot digital means this show's got grits Mr King's crew turned into smoothies on that other show.
it'll all make sense by morning, he tells hisself. or by next blog post anyway.
right. to bed.
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