Life in the Land of Dreamy Dreams

 Decided to watch some TV last night, and having decided that Ken Burns’ “War” was too much of a downer, we decided to watch this week’s K-ville instead.

So through the magic of digital recording (what did we ever do without Tivo & its ilk?) we watched last Monday’s episode, a ridiculous bunch of faux voodoo, battered part-time lesbians, and hot grieving widows.

Y’all know how it is. Just another day in the Big Easy. Can’t wait to see what stereotypes they drag out for Carnival.

(That said, it’s really not much worse than most of what you’ll find on the idiot box.)

But thanks to that lovely fast-forward button, we were done in about half the time, and decided a little more milk from the boob tube wouldn’t hurt. (cue ominous music)

Wrong. That damned Meerkat Manor got me again. We’re a couple of episodes back, and dammit if halfway through every freaking show I don’t say, “Tell me why we’re watching this again?”

It’s heart wrenching. These little 12 inch very endearing critters bound all over the harsh desert, and the scientists observing them only observe, no interference. So when the pack gets too far ahead and the week old pup gets lost and dies alone only 100 yards from his family, that’s the way it goes.

When the upstart female sneaks back to the burrow and EATS her sister’s newborns, that’s life- including the closeup of the one teeny tiny bloody gnawed paw she left behind.

And things NEVER go right for long. Just as soon you let your guard down, WHAM! Lookout, it’s a snake! By your feet! But wait, a hawk’s overhead! I don’t think we’ve gotten from one commercial to the next without somebody dying, about to die, getting a bite that’ll get infected and they’ll die…..AAARGGGH!

Yes, I’m totally anthropomorphizing here, I get it. But you just look into their little eyes and…and….:::::SOB!::::

Ah hem. Sorry. See for yourself.

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