Dear Johnny

Poor Johnny Depp. Didn't he know that trophies are sometimes heavy to carry? There he was with the sublime Vanessa Paradis for decades and then he simply had to answer the call for a younger model on his arm, although it's ok that HE's become portly and a bit of a caricature of himself. Fortunately for the woman, no one dares call her out on the timely photos of her bruised face, (without Snapchat, what is this, 2010?), except for the Internet commentators - and as we know the Internet Always Wins. No one dares to say that women cannot always be trusted when they yell abuse, just like men can never be trusted when they swear undying love. Recently read a tweet where some wit said he would rather be happy than write. Happiness is for cats and dogs, as the saying goes, Humans should aspire for something more.

Idris baby

Idris Elba's baby black eyes would have drawn me in but Luther was great in various ways. Ruth Wilson? Come on. Talk about killer baby blues, and that smile was like a shark grinning in the water just as it smelled blood, yours. I will ignore the fact that they stayed with the same script, Luther solving cases and living a parallel life of crime for 4 seasons because you know, all I remember is Luther pouring petrol over his body, Luther hanging a guy off a building to get some answers, Luther disposing of various bodies because it was the right thing to do, Luther recognising a sociopath, NOT thinking There but for the grace of God... and donning her like a second skin. Great stuff. The series was people-centric in the best way. It had passion, pain, flawed and yet honourable individuals, and a complete disregard for moral absolutes. Which one of us can throw a pebble, much less a stone; this is why the show struck a chord.
Which is also what made the latest seasons of CSI so awful. The people were lifeless, and we're not talking about the corpses. Did they take Elizabeth Shue off her meds? What was with the perpetual sneer, the twitchiness, the icy capability? Remembering her in Leaving Las Vegas, I don't even know what to say anymore about life's perpetual disappointments. And Ted Danson? Really? William Petersen gained some sympathy even if he was such a cold fish, but what did DB stand for, deadbeat?
From being one of my favourite shows, all I did was heave a sigh of relief when CSI finally closed its doors.
Thank God for Bosch.