Wired
My chair’s broken, and when I sit on it, it sinks all the way to its lowest point. Consequently, I’ve not been writing much recently, as it’s not that comfortable. Oh, and I’ve been addicted to Fallout 3, too. But I’m clean now. I’m giving that shit back to Jackson. I won’t touch it no more, or at least, not until it gets some more DLC.
Anyhow.
It feels a little odd reviewing a seven year old TV show, so I won’t be. But permit me some waffle. I picked up the first season of The Wire from JB Hi-Fi the other day, for the princely sum of $15. Having heard Tony Martin go on about how awesome it was on ‘Get This’,1 I decided it was probably safe to make the investment. Three episodes in, In a shock twist, it turns out that it is awesome.
It tells the story of the drug trade and the police in Baltimore, Maryland. I went there for two days once, so I know all about it already, but it’s nice to get some extra perspective. It’s certainly more entertaining than Underbelly: A Tale of Two Titties.2 Perhaps partly because it’s not burdened by telling a real story, the characters are genuinely involving, on both sides of the law. And because of this, it’s gripping. I’m desperate to see if the noble but kind of pathetic Detective McNulty gets to actually bring down his target. Likewise, I can’t wait to find out whether D’Angelo will be able to improve things, or whether he’ll just stop caring.
And there’s no annoying voiceover, either. I’ll stop the Overbellly3 comparisons there, because it’s not strictly fair. They’re very different beasts. The Wire just feels a lot more mature. Or real. Or something.
Disappointingly for me, the later seasons are now trading at closer to $50. But to be honest, if they’re anything like the first season, then they’re worth it.