Carnivàle

Carnivàle returned to the ABC a few weeks ago. They've been showing two episodes back to back. Last night was episodes 17 and 18, so last night was the third week of the second series, with six more episodes and thus three more weeks to go.

I know it's a bit late to get into it if you haven't seen any before, but I can't praise this series highly enough. Apocalyptic magick in dustbowl America, 1930s. Freaks and wierdos, and sometimes it's hard to tell who is more freakish: the carnies, or everyone else. Get the DVD, and be prepared to be freaked out. Seriously, some of the episodes show curses and magick which will shock you, and shock you more and more the more you think about the consequenses. And this is me saying it. These two episodes still fsck with my head. If you want light comedy, or a simple story of polite human interaction, do not watch this show. If you actually have a stomach for morally complex story of bad things happening to everyone, good bad and indifferent (many more of the last two than the first), then gird your loins and watch -- but I suggest that you at the least read the synopses on the website to get you up to speed. Better still would be to watch it, all the way through.



I have one bone to pick, however, with the ABC announcer who does the voice-over for the promos.

The title of the series, and the name of the carnival both, are clearly spelled: 'Carnivàle'. That's a grave over that second 'a'. This is pronounced 'car-ni-VAHL'. Notnotnotnotnot 'car-ni-VA-lay'. No! Wrong! Bad voice-over-man, no biscuit! If they wanted to have you sound pretentious with French pronounciation¹, they would have spelled it 'Carnivalé'. They did, you will notice, not. Three syllables, dammit, not four. 'car-ni-VAHL', repeat after me: 'car-ni-VAHL'. Fingernails down a bloody blackboard every damn time.

I've taken my pills now. I feel better.


[1] Yes, yes, I know, Pot, Kettle, Black. But at least I make an effort to be correct in my pretension.

Abbiness Dotage

Abbi was playing my guitar again last night. She started singing, and it went a little like this:

Mummy... Daddy... Train... Susy-rabbit... Drawings... um... Abbi-chair...

Basically, she was singing a little song featuring whatever she looked at in the living room. Mim was almost giggling.

When Abbi doesn't want something, however, or if she is being denied something she does want, it sounds more like this:

NO, no, no, no, NO, no, NO! ... Go 'way!

She's trying to be the fearsome alpha, but her display of absolute outrage just makes Mim and I laugh. She'll probably desribe that to a therapist later on, but at least we're not allowing her her own way on every whim. She's even starting to accept that sometimes she can't have something and only complain moderately, instead of hurling herself to the ground and (carefully) headbutting the floor. Oh, she still does that, but not every time she's thwarted.