Since Scott's decided to go on holiday, we sit, not unlike a family in one of those Superstudio drawings (see below) camped out. At least the television works, so I enjoyed going up to bed last night having watched most of Die Hard 04. I was happy to go to bed before the end because I was sure what was going to happen, the formula is reassuring that way. Despite less drama and more comic book, Die Hard 04 employed almost all the elements of the last last three films, not unlike the next in the series of Van Halen albums; the format is resilient, for instance even amidst infrastructural wipeout, John McLean gets in via the janitor's room. He has a gripping drama in a lift shaft, helicopters are dramatically destroyed by flying squad cars, and his enemies seem so resilient at first you wonder if they are not aliens. There are daughters to rescue and innocents to protect, bla. Julie commented that he must be very tired even from the word go having done this so many times. Indeed.
I wish Steven Fry's gadgets would pack up. He trotted the same old line of tired celebrities to swear their allegiance to our technological fate and total dependency on the latest crap in a most conspicuously suspicious way in the gadget equivalent of '1001 Films You Must See Before You Die' only affirming that celebrities are interminably dull, just as I was told that the reason we are in draught despite the wettest April in history is because the privatized utility companies have sold off the water storage. There is a link in all this.