The Year Zero

I am not, as a rule, a fan of crime dramas – but this was good.

It is a very dark Scandinavian thriller and felt – probably because it was set in Sweden – quite unlike the multitude of British equivalents. It’s based on the crime thriller by Swedish author Henning Mankell.

The storyline was dark, opening with detective Kurt Wallander (played by Kenneth Branagh) approaching a young and terrified woman in a rape field. She pours petrol over herself and sets herself on fire.

The main plot involves a series of murders – the victims being ’scalped’. Very dark stuff as a web of prostitution, child abuse and government and police corruption are revealed.

The best bit was the cinematography itself – it had that vivid 1970s Fujifilm feel to it. Very intense colour rendition which really did add something – the blues and greens especially. Also, it’s set in southern Sweden (though it’s in English) and all the signs and visual text are in Swedish. That alone made it feel very different to a standard UK crime thriller.

Sweden just feels… quite different to the UK. Having been there myself for the first time earlier this year (to a conference) – it does having something about it I can’t quite put my finger on. I’d like to go back, for sure. There is a starkness about it (a bit like Scotland) that does pull you in.

Most of all this reminded me of the movie Se7en which was very dark and haunting – and which I always found gripping.

I’ll certainly be watching again next week. Decent 1.5 hour chunk of TV for a Saturday evening (there are three in total).

A good review of it on Times Online. More about Mankell, the author, also on Times.

Overview of Wallander on the BBC
Episode 1 – Sidetracked
Episode 2 – Firewall
Episode 3 – One Step Behind

Anyone else watching Survivors and if so, do you think it’s any good?

I can’t make up my mind. I feel I’ve invested 2.5 hours of my time in it (over 2 episodes) so I ought to follow it to the end. I remember being very disappointed by that other (similar) drama that was on a while ago with a related plot (though that was pre-apocalypse; this is post).

Survivors is OK so far. I wouldn’t review it as yet as only 2 out of 6 episodes have so far aired. It’s watchable but the clichéd characters don’t do a huge amount for me. Abby, the ‘mother and home-maker’, is about as clichéd as they come. Matriarchal, only sees the good in people, is a fighter, etc, etc. I found her acting in the last episode pretty unconvincing (she’s trying to find the man who may lead her to her son).

As dramas go it’s too mainstream for me (in its rendering). However, I do like the storyline (because it’s basically a modern day Lord of the Flies) but am just not convinced by the acting. It’s the people you’d expect to see in Casualty or Hollyoaks suddenly cast in a Heroes-esque drama and for me that doesn’t work.

Anyway, this is a remake of the 1970s version which was carried over 30 episodes or something. I do wonder if that was better and also the book.

Imagine being the only survivor of a disease that kills every member of your family, that kills lovers, strangers, friends, nearly everyone you’ve ever met.

You are among the lonely few to live and now you must start over in a strange new world where everything that was once safe and familiar is now strange and dangerous.

Set in the present day, Survivors focuses on the world in the aftermath of a devastating virus which wipes out most of the world’s population. What would we do? How would any of us cope in a brave new world where all traditional 21st Century comforts – electricity, clean running water, advanced technology – have disappeared?

These are the questions faced by the bewildered but resilient group of survivors at the centre of the drama. It is an opportunity for new beginnings, but with no society, no police and no law and order, they now face terrible dangers – not just the daily struggle for food and water but also the deadly threat from other survivors.

“Survivors is about what it means to be human,” explains writer and executive producer Adrian Hodges. “It asks questions about our nature and confronts us with our deepest fears. When everything else is stripped away, would we band together and find the best in ourselves, or would we fall apart and retreat into barbarism and savagery? Survivors is about adventure, fear, love, loyalty and friendship. But above all, it’s about new hope.”

Survivors, by Adrian Hodges is a re-imagining of the classic 1970s BBC drama series which was based on the novel by Terry Nation. It launched in April 1975 and ran for 38 episodes over three series.
Source: BBC Survivors website

Ros Myers (Hermione Norris)
Position: Chief of section and senior case officer
Ruthless and uncompromising, Ros will do whatever is necessary for the greater good. After infiltrating shadowy international organisation Yalta, she was forced to fake her own death to avoid their attention.

Drama series based around the British Security Service. The British economy is on the brink of collapse and if one more bank goes down the entire financial system will implode. Ros goes undercover in the City to flush out a dangerous international financier who wants to bankrupt the country. Suddenly, it is not just the economy, but Ros’s life that is at risk. Source: BBC

This episode focused on the City of London – one of the world’s most important financial centres. Specifically, the issue of ‘insider trading’ was looked at. Hardly the usual terrorist stuff but it goes to show that what happens in the financial markets of the world has huge implications across the globe, every bit as profound as standard terrorist activity.

So a ‘run on a bank’ occurred, instigated by City magnate Meynell. As confidence was erased in a high street bank, the share price goes into free-fall and Meynell’s outfit begins betting that the bank will collapse.

This episode was particularly interesting because, though it was no doubt filmed last year, it reflects the volatility of the markets and how greed is the ultimate Achilles heel.

The other plot line was that of Sugarhorse. Connie’s London flat is raided as Mi5 exclude her from the grid and has her flat turned over as they seek evidence that she is part of a high level conspiracy. Eventually a tape is found in an old souvenir and it’s Hugo Prince stating (now deceased) stating that Connie is innocent as it was obvious she would be guilty by association.

We later learn that “sugarhorse” is the most important Mi5 operation ever undertaken. Lucas tells Harry that he was tortured for 17 days. He then falls out with Harry.

Ros sleeps with Meynell to get the outcome she wanted. She hates herself for it…

A complex episode but they manage to beat Meynell who it turns out is being backed with Russian money to try and influence the markets.

Lucas rips up the photo of Elisabeta and says she’s no longer to be used as an asset.

Ros catches up with Jo who is still traumatised by her torturer. Ros delivers her a set of photographs proving that the man who still haunts her is dead. It transpires she had been raped as well as tortured and Ros tells her that they, as female officers, have to be that much tougher than their male counterparts (she had had to sleep with Meynell to stay close to what he was doing).

Lucas remembers the word ‘pilgrim’ having been used when he was tortured. He requests an eyes-only file from the vault. He then seeks out Harry who in turn looks through the file. Turns out the ‘pilgrim’ is in fact Bernard Qualtrough, the retired agent who now runs a second hand bookshop in south London.

Reviews of Spooks Series 7

• Review of Episode 1
• Review of Episode 2
• Review of Episode 3
• Review of Episode 4
• Review of Episode 5
• Review of Episode 6
• Review of Episode 7
• Review of Episode 8

No, that’s not me. It’s an Aquascutum model.

Actually this post title is unfortunate and I probably shouldn’t have used it. But there we go.

I got on the scales today (WeightWatchers, digital, they’re fairly reliable) and the readout did its computations and then blinked up at me 11 st 3.8 lbs. To those who don’t use the antiquated stone system in Britain – that equates to roughly 158 lbs (or 71.6 kgs).

Put simply. This is the lowest I have weighed in many years. I used to put my ’sweet spot’ at 11 3/4 stone (164 lbs or 74.3 kgs). Not long ago I revised that down to 11.5 stone but it appears even that I’ve now fallen through.

With regard to my other statistics – I’m 6ft tall, have a 32″ waist (though I wear a belt so my actual waist size is probably slightly less than that) and my chest size is a UK 38 (the second smallest size they do in any of the big department stores). For t-shirts and tops I buy small.

More photos of this model on Aquascutum’s website.

The last time I became somewhat Messianic about my weight people commented. A lot. That was at my old job where I was close to a lot of the people and they knew me well (i.e. the job before the last). I remember clearly one of my closest friends once saying I looked ‘painfully thin’. I don’t look or feel thin. Quite the opposite, I still have quite a lot of fat on me which is why I go to the gym 2-3 times a week and pound the treadmill, bike, cross-trainer and rowing machine.

At the far recesses of my mind I know I’m probably not overweight. But it’s a difficult one to call. Over the last few years it has become extremely important to me. In others I actually find a few extra pounds quite attractive. But not in myself. In myself it is anathema.

I went 5 weeks without going to the gym and my weight climbed steadily to just under 12 stone. This was during the same period I didn’t work (for 3 weeks, often hardly leaving the house as I was job searching) and also my holiday abroad during which we were on half board (unlimited breakfast and dinner) and we all really pigged out.

I felt like I’d lost control. Regaining that control was very important to me. I did regain that control. Through a combination of exercise and strict dieting. Monday – Thursday I’ll have a bowl of fruit & fibre cereal for breakfast. I’ll have something hot for lunch (we get our lunch paid for at work, so I might have a portion of macaroni cheese, or a soup and a piece of quiche, or a sandwich and crisps). Then in the evening I’ll usually have a chopped apple, handful of nuts and sultanas and some ultra-low fat probiotic yoghurt. And no, I don’t feel ravenous. I don’t know why. I just don’t. I think I eat just enough to ward off hunger. I love Marks & Spencer Swiss chocolate and may allow myself 1 or 2 squares several evenings a week. I also drink a fair amount of alcohol which is quite high in calories.

And at weekends I relax. Toast for breakfast. Ham sandwich, few olives, packet of crisps followed by an almond tart at lunchtime. Possibly a takeaway in the evening. I’ll usually catch up with Sheridan. One of us will probably cook. Possibly something for pudding. Sunday I tend to go to the gym first thing. Come home and have something light for brunch. Then maybe pasta in the evening.

And that’s how it goes.

Anyway, I thought about writing this post following an article I read on fashion and the rising trend in manorexia on the Guardian online last month. The New York Times also had an interesting article titled Vanishing Point.

I don’t have a problem, I’m just very conscious of my weight and like to keep it strictly under control. It’s not an eating disorder.

Bought this tonight at Superdrug on the way home from central London as it was 33% off and I’ve run out of the Nivea for Men Q10 I’ve been using the last few months.

Irrespective of your sex, what do you use?

Excuse my French but I am so f*****g into REM at the moment it’s just not funny. One shouldn’t use expletives but their music elicits strong language.

“Imitation Of Life”

Charades, pop skill
Water hyacinth, named by a poet
Imitation of life.
Like a koi in a frozen pond.
Like a goldfish in a bowl.
I don’t want to hear you cry.

Thats sugarcane that tasted good.
Thats cinnamon, thats Hollywood.
C’mon, c’mon no one can see you try.

You want the greatest thing
The greatest thing since bread came sliced.
You’ve got it all, you’ve got it sized.
Like a Friday fashion show teenager
Freezing in the corner
Trying to look like you don’t try.

Thats sugarcane that tasted good.
Thats cinnamon, thats Hollywood.
C’mon, c’mon no one can see you try.

No one can see you cry.

That sugar cane that tasted good.
That freezing rain, that’s what you could.
C’mon, c’mon on no one can see you cry.

This sugarcane
This lemonade
This hurricane, I’m not afraid.
C’mon, c’mon no one can see you cry.

This lightning storm
This tidal wave
This avalanche, I’m not afraid.
C’mon, c’mon no one can see me cry.

That sugar cane that tasted good.
That’s who you are, that’s what you could.
C’mon, c’mon on no one can see you cry.

That sugar cane that tasted good.
That’s who you are, that’s what you could.
C’mon, c’mon on no one can see you cry.

My dissatisfaction with the current status quo is well known.

As of next year I will have done 10 years in London. So much has changed in that period. Predominantly – I’ve seen vast numbers of friends leave. These haven’t been replaced. It’s not a doomsday scenario – it’s just a case of that’s how it is.

So I’ve been thinking.

I need change. I’m desperate for this long running chapter of my life to end. I’m wanting to take a strong stand on the issue – to have a master plan, a goal. I want to explore and utilise all my options.

There are options. We have offices around the world but I will have needed to have done at least a couple of years in the UK before something like a transfer to our New York office becomes feasible. Heck, I need to get through my 6 month probation first.

But there is an option nearer to home. We have one other UK office. An office which I’ve worked very closely with over the last few weeks. They’re small but tight knit. They’re all nice people. I’ve met or spoken to most of them.

That office… is in Edinburgh, Scotland. And, dramatic as it sounds – I’m going to ask for a transfer next year. This will of course depend on many things, not least of which will be how much of a success I make of my role down here in London, in the HQ. I think they would be OK about me transferring. Hard to say for sure. Much of what I do in the role is done by email or phone anyway so I don’t see it being a huge issue. It’s all very moot, for now at least.

It would be a big step. Edinburgh is a long way from London. It would be a new chapter in my life.

Let’s see what happens. It’s something I’m going to work towards.

A good night out with family, over dinner, in central London.

I noticed a message on my mobile. It was from he whose very name I don’t even initial. A subject that is, and always really has been, truly beyond the scope of my blogging. Too painful. It was touched upon and evidenced by histrionics on my part in previous blogs. But never really dwelt upon. And that isn’t about to change.

Asking me very bluntly why I had closed down the lines of communication with him. Well, we haven’t seen each other for almost 6 months. I’ve ignored every phone call, message and email – and he’s sent numerous in that period. And I’ve hated myself for doing it. Really hated myself. And that isn’t something I say lightly.

The situation is too complex to blog about and I’m not going to. Some things really are private.  That he is the only person I have ever truly loved – something developed over a long time – not some weekend tomfoolery, says far more than I want to accept or think about. There are very few times in life when you actually make a connection with somebody on a really deep level. Where you tangibly feel it on both sides. He was one of the very few.

I can’t reply to the text message as I don’t know what to say.

I tell myself it was the right thing to do though ultimately I don’t know. I’ll probably never really know. Lots of collateral damage (relationships with mutual friends I’ve had to run into the ground in which I have inevitably come across as cold and a deeply fairweather friend). Nothing I can do about that.

He always had very real personal issues. Perhaps I should have cut him more slack. Maybe he has now learned his lesson. I don’t know. I just don’t know. The crashing lows, the tears, the pain – are all things in the past now which I guess means I’m in the vicinity of that light emanating from the end of the tunnel. That I think about him at least a couple of times most days is something I can’t deny, however.

We’d spoken once or twice. He didn’t live too far from me. One post code over.

We decided to meet for a drink. He was OK. I knew he was attractive, that much was obvious from the picture. About 6′1, blonde, slim, nice smile, nice hair.

We got on OK. He talked a lot. I was unsure what depth he may have. I made the cardinal and rather blatant mistake of asking him back for coffee as I’d wanted to get home and it was en-route for him…

Are men related to leeches? I sometimes think so. All over me like a cheap suit. Really, I wanted to talk and continue to get to know him, not feel like I was in an Alien movie facing a losing battle with a face-hugger.

I’m terribly fussy about kissing. He just didn’t do it for me. Maybe a 6.5/10. Full blown face-hugger territory. I do, contrary to popular belief, want to keep my tongue. Why must you feel the inclination to perform that ‘vacuum’ action on it. Really, I’m not impressed. “Wow you have soft skin!” he said. Well that’ll be the Oil of Olay. Not. I don’t know if or why I have soft skin, though someone else once said that. My skin is naturally quite oily so that might be it. He really got carried away, not dissimilar to the other guy. Either it’s me or it’s men in general. I’m unsure, it’s been a while. I don’t know what button is being pressed but you can turn them on and off like a light switch sometimes. I’m all for being passionate but this was in the OTT stakes and I didn’t feel that comfortable.

He was beautiful but not my type. Too gay (I know, I could get hung drawn and quartered for saying that). Just too… not superficial, just too, lacking in depth. I finally managed to get rid of him just before Survivors started on BBC1 (saved by a mediocre drama, oh the irony).

Finding Mr Right is not going to happen overnight it seems. I am fussy and won’t deny that. But I’d much rather a slow burn friendship over a longish period of time rather than all this excess so early on. You live and learn.