Istanbul

7.99 is not a bad price to be inundated with the state socialist model which controls most of the world. In my cable deprived free broadcast zone, WYBE runs Mhz feed, when not broadcasting the Russians in English, on 35.5, and I've no idea how this new streaming package will affect my droll allegiance to Mikael Persbrandt as the sole conservative in Sweden, or a parody of one, barring Johan Norberg, who has earned liberal critiquing rights, along with Niall Ferguson, with the seal of approval from the American left. But European procedurals bore me too now, and I really only watch to see how those corrupt souls who didn't emigrate manage themselves in the world, weighing in my mind Roman tolerances over my current non-compliance in Philadelphia's African shadow state. I do not know that it would necessarily be worse. Italians know my type, and deal with the abrasions of the social outcast with a thousand years of theatrical absurdity behind them. 

This model is damaging my health, and that because of a Medicare bean counter. I give my notice in July, assuming I live that long, and take Septa to my proverbial stepmother's home and camp outside a block in Springfield. Enough to provoke an eighty year old padre over the edge?

What I fail to understand is why Presbyterian Homes doesn't evict me. I've all but labeled myself a reactionary racist, brimming with ferocity. I hate nearly all the tenants, and cannot think of many exceptions. I've satirized Trudy Richardson as a google-eyed fool, and Debra Horne is a Neanderthal dredged from the Mississippi River. Their parent employer all but treats me like a rabid zoological specimen, utilizing the carrot and stick approach. The interior of this studio is a deplorable statement on a nearly lifelong battle with indigence, and nothing moves, as I've stated in the past, until something does. By the time the motherfuckers who run this company decide to litigate my competency, I'll be out on the street, shifting the parameters. I made contact with one wheelchair company, one, and I simply don't have the time to play the single payer option system for a tilt chair design disaster. I let Magee do this to me, and I have no strings to pull.

If I thought it would do any good, I'd have myself arrested for assaulting Democrats. 

Ghost Crabs

"Nausee became a sort of modern classic-- without thereby losing-- in the minds of its enormous readership-- its virulence," Richard Howard, sympathizing foreworded.

Wealth and affluence do not, simply as a condition of social status, abscond with unhappiness, or transmutes avarice into altruism. Europe is no more Utopian than America is the Great Satan, guns blazing at the ready, but with this concession readily available to the realist, Scandinavian crime drama is just a shade gray shy of being a misnomer, and I declare it null and void. A miniseries can be as onerous as researching every exhortation Sartre penned in his master treatise. The Danes and the Swedes and the Norwegians enjoy being affable, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but its penal system makes my sojourn with inner city poverty analogous to Melville bracing himself for exotic grub in Tahiti. Oh, the feed given to WYBE is not an exact replica of Dick Wolf or Criminal Mind formula, and cold climes seem to breed repression into the authentic Caucasian genome, but let me clarify something for Miss Desmond-Harris: Italians and Greeks never saw themselves as white in the first place. We're a Mediterranean people, swarthy and olive until you get close to the Swiss border.

I was weak enough, however, to see Dirty Money, White Lies through to its conclusion, and Seim got better at inhabiting Sverre when he seemed resigned, as opposed to his feigned resistance to losing his boy scout status in the narrative opening, and marginally amusing impotence, during the first thirty percent of the saga. I could not really see what the differential was between the actresses who played Ravi and Trude. And what Scandinavians take as internecine domestic conflict is no more than puny whining to an American mindset, let alone the Roman.

Yes, there is a permissive drug culture in Holland. This is why the big countries are merciless thugs while the Swiss are like high end escorts repairing their hymen for the Chinese Central Bankers on this end of APEC. while assuring Jacob Lew that American dollars are an absolute prerequisite. The only modern dramatist who was ever honest was Georges Simenon. Otherwise, the EU is lying through its teeth about its subterranean social mores, and its socialist studio system is cognizant of this fact.