So not long ago, I discovered that the first season of “Gotham” is on Netflix. I discovered this because, unsurprisingly, Netflix put it on my “Recommended” list.
So this week I’m reading Boneshaker, by Cherie Priest, in which the release of rogue technology destroys much of Seattle and unleashes a toxic gas, known as the Blight, that kills most things it touches, and reanimates some of those things as the living dead. In other words, it’s just like the launch of Windows ME.
So every once in a while when I reach into my giant stack of correspondence to find a Random Rejection, I pull a Random Acceptance instead. This is one of those times.
So here I am still reading The Black Mountain, by Rex Stout, months after starting it — not because it’s a long book or because it’s a slog but because it’s made of paper, and if I attempt to read a paper book anywhere near Saya the Mighty she will try her best to steal it and shred it, and we can’t have that, now can we?
What’s this? Two “not a review” posts in a row? Inconceivable! But true. You see, some may remember that a couple of years ago my wife got hooked on
crystal meth “Breaking Bad“, AKA “The Best Show Ever“. It took a while for us to get through all the episodes, after which I was charged with finding my wife another show to watch. Not surprisingly, this turned out to be a pretty tall order. Aside from the six-episode “Happy Valley“, I didn’t have much luck coming up with anything that held her interest.