And so, me dear bloggerisationism readers, 2021 has ended - you might have noticed. Good riddance, frankly, to a rather shitty year full of unutterable horridness and only-ceasing-at-a-minute-past-midnight on 1 January ladgefulness. As of consequence, 2022 is now upon us. Like as not, it will be just as ungrateful a little twot as the previous ... fifty odd. But, as usual, we live in hope this one might be different.
Therefore, we start off this first From The North bloggerisationism update of the New Year with a semi-regular feature ...
Make what you will, dear blog reader, from the following list of 'stuff this blogger has watched again', 'stuff this blogger has caught-up with at last' or 'stuff this blogger has tuned into out of curiosity ... and because he's got nothing better to do with his time.' This blogger will leave it up to y'all to decide which one(s) fit into which categor(ies).
Therefore, in no particular order other than the purely chronological, Forbrydelsen (series one).
From The North's favourite TV drama of 2021, Mare Of Easttown.
From The North's favourite movie of 2021, Last Night In Soho.
McCartney, 3,2,1.
Summer Of Soul.
American Rust.
The Nevers.
The Cleaner.
A Field In England.
Dexter: New Blood.
Game Of Thrones, series seven and eight.
Star Trek: Discovery, series four.
Mortimer & Whitehouse Gone Fishing.
War Factories.
Petite Mamam.
From The North favourite Only Connect.
The Sparks Brothers.
Yellowjackets.
Secrets Of The Solar System.
And, of course, the New Year's Day episode of Doctor Who. Which this blogger thought was great, by the way.
'I'm going to be killed by aliens any minute. Again!' This blogger really enjoyed Eve Of The Daleks, dear blog reader. He thought it was sweet and amusing with its Groundhog Day riffs ('same difference!') and From The North favourite Aisling Bea on terrific form. Some great funny moments - the entire assessment of Dan as 'inferior' sequence; 'we're stuck in a time-loop with killer robots'; 'you have a lot of ex-girlfriends ... they're all alive, aren't they?'; 'Is that a good or a bad thing?' 'Not sure, definitely one or the other!'; 'Haven't seen this much gunpowder since 1605!' Et cetera. So, to sum up, then, that was - unsurprisingly - great. Next, The Sea Devils are back it would seem.
Sad to report, dear blog reader, that this blogger his very self has spent much of the Christmas and New Year period feeling, well, let's not sugar-coat this, pretty rubbish actually. Nothing drastic, of course, many people have far worse health problems than this blogger, but certainly yer actual Keith Telly Topping has had better fortnights in his life.
Although, admittedly, this news story did cheer this blogger up, somewhat. One imagines he's got a big sweat-on right about now.
Also in the news since last From The North was updated, the Honours List; the 'Those We Lost' list; Roman discoveries and From The North favourite Doctor Alice; some people - almost exclusively Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eating Gruniad Morning Star readers - whinging about utter trivia that doesn't matter in the slightest to 'normal' people; the vinyl revival; pussies; the very sad news of the death of Janice Long; the BBC spanking ITV in the overnight ratings of Christmas Day (as usual); Covid strikes big-style at this blogger's beloved (now sellable, but, due to the idiotic mismanagement and penny-pinching of the previous owner, probably relegation-bound) Magpies; from which no one is safe it would seem; Richard Osman on Desert Island Discs; more - self-inflicted - Ashes misery; the standard crass betting on the new Bond crap (which, at least, makes a change from the standard crass betting on the new Doctor crap); Hamilton's lip still trailing the ground; Channel Five spoiling the reveal of the Celebrity MasterChef winner. Which, obviously, wasn't deliberate (oh, no, very hot water); naughty Noth and his naughty doings (allegedly); Jon Snow retires (Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eating Gruniad Morning Star readers everywhere go into mourning and have their Christmases ruined); James Franco's admissions; lickable telly; Eric and Ernie (well, it is Christmas, what do you expect?); more whinging about trivia nobody 'normal' cares about; if you're going to call someone a Nazi, it's probably a good idea to make sure they actually were a member of the Third Reich or, it's going to cost you a ton of bread; a possible reason why Uranus is tipped over on its side; Laura Kuenssberg's forthcoming departure; the Strictly final; Sir Rod in a spot of bother; Michael Sheen; I spy with my big eye; Fred Dineage; Cleese whinging about trivia no one cares about - except him (so, no change there, then); Rump getting desperate; Newtown Linford police box given listed status; David Lloyd retires from Sky; Caroline reaches The White Album and, the extremely surprising - and entirely unexpected - discovery that the rich can't, always, buy their way out of The Slammer.
Plus the greatest bit of news in the history of the world, bar none, Coldplay To Stop Making Music As A Band In 2025. But, you know, that's still four years away, lads, couldn't you just stop now? Don't feel you have to carry on just for us.
Happy New Year, dear From The North blog reader. Let's hope this one's marginally less rotten than its predecessors.
