Posts Tagged ‘The Killing’

Robot vacuum and Grandsons surviving Grandparents.

December 30, 2014
Thomas without tablet (de)vice

Thomas without tablet (de)vice

My nemesis throughout life has been how to escape ennui. Mother’s answer was always; keep busy and don’t nourish impure thoughts (hold hands above blankets) and think of poor little Moses in its reed basket floating down the Nile. But…sometimes keeping busy does not always mean an escape from boredom. Take vacuuming. What can be more soul destroying? It is a painful truth but Jack Russell roughies lose their bodyweight in hair each day. Hence the relentless vacuuming. Helvi pretends she doesn’t understand the technicalities of switching on/off the vacuum cleaner. Humfppp and grrr.

But here is where Aldi shines, yet again. They had a robotic vacuum cleaner for $179.- .It was on ‘special’ and it would be ‘saving money’ at that price. Who could resist? I hurried home to tell Helvi the good news. “Will it work, she sceptically asked?” “Oh, it will. Come upstairs and I’ll show you the video. It is a very clean movie, no nudity or strange hairy bits, I added for comfort”. The video was no Godfather or The Killing. It did show how deft and persistent the robot fulfilled its programmed task. It faultlessly skirted around crevices and dipped into every nook and cranny. Not a square inch forgotten. It reared up over carpets and assaulted dust as if Lawrence of Arabia in the Sahara. Amazing. I was so happy and more happy. I was on the edge of my chair. I had overcome.

Yes, there is more. Remember the kids’ tablets behind lock and key? We just could not stand them sitting around on holiday fiddling with those tablets eating up all our data. I had an emergency e-mail from Telstra that most of my data was used up and there were still over twenty days left. I took charge and locked up the devices. The good news was that after an initial period of pissed off kids, scowling and threatening to call their mother, they relented, and lifted their heads up from the almost permanent 90 degree angle of heads to chest. In between Emergency Hospital visits, Thomas read hundreds of pages and started building his V8 engine. He managed to get the 8 pistons in the cylinders on the crankshaft. No mean feat considering the pistons moved up and down in series of two. He also got all the tappets working. I just took a minor role providing him with nice words and a Philips screwdriver. Max started going around on skateboard and managed to wack three tennis balls over the fence.. So, all came good at the end.

Bored Grandchildren with tablets.

Bored Grandchildren with tablets.

I remember during my school holidays being flat out stealing lead flashings from windows or going around with a magnifying glass burning shoe laces that would slowly creep towards a box full of match-heads which we had laid on the local tram-rail. We would collect a bucket full of thistle heads which we would throw on fashionably dressed ladies’ coats. How fortunate no Internet tablets were around to corrupt and spoil us.

We were so lucky!

Borgen :11 out of 10

May 30, 2013


Borgen; 11 out of 10.

You can’t go past a good series of Danish TV. Not long ago we had ‘The Bridge’ and ‘The Killing’, which I believe was a Swedish-Danish Co-production. It was riveting TV watching and we were counting the days when it would be on again. The pepper-crackers would be out and the Stilton cheese with the Shiraz brought to room temperature together with my ear-phones. Those earphones were superfluous. The series were translated in English sub-titles but I wanted to hear the Danish language. Dutch and Danish are brother languages, (or sisters for the pc readers of this blog).

What makes these series so extraordinary is the ordinariness of it all. The prime minister lives in a modest house with the dishes piling up at an overflowing kitchen bench top, husband walking around in his singlet and their children wanting to eat Coco-pops for breakfast. She goes to work on a pushbike without wearing a helmet, and seems to have no security concerns. Husband of the PM and mother of their two children seem to have the best of a most normal of functional marriage. The odd thing is, in most of the Northern European governments, the Borgen treatment of PMs (and their royal families), it is not that far removed from reality.

The TV show apparently was difficult to obtain in the US with claims by competing commercial TV stations of piracy. I believe in California people can now see the series legally. It seems that the differences of political systems and the holders of power between the US and Denmark were seen as almost un-transferable in a TV series and, that at least in the US ‘normality of politics’ is hardly ever residing in a world of being ‘normal’. No president would go to the White-House on a bicycle and would probably have to go through numerous security cycles to just buy his wife a bunch of flowers.

The Danish TV drama shows how the PM can remain herself despite having risen to the highest office. She remains cool and normal and the series is not blown up in grandiosity like so many American dramas such as West-Wing, Homeland, and House of Cards. There are no lines of limousines or black-clad security lurking on roof tops with machine guns at the ready or hovering gun-ships overhead. No one is seen talking into their sleeves or wear Polaroid sunglasses.

The Danish way on thorny issues and legislations are resolved or passed with the parties sitting around the table sipping coffee and making sensible compromises within minutes. The Danes have a serious addiction to caffeine. What I would not give for our Australian politicians to behave like that!

We had just about given up on TV watching when Borgen rose up like Phoenix from ashes, none too late. The urgings of funeral insurances advertisements and the manic laughter of so many comedy trailers got us so depressed our intake of Stilton with Shiraz almost doubled. True, the kept us going but soon waned when most of people restlessly searching for their ancestors ended up teary and overwrought when it was found out, their great, great, great, great grandfather had succumbed to whoring and a dose of the clap with blindness to dear Aunty Betty at birth in 1789 in Yorkshire to have been a result of all that.

We soon came to switching off the telly and just sat amongst the crackers and cheese, talked or did the after dinner washing up instead.  Not anymore now though. Another five days and Borgen will be on again.

There is hope for all of us now.

Go, buy some good cheese and watch “Borgen.”