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21 February 2007 @ 08:24 am
You know why I'm happy today? Because in less than a week, I'll be face-to-face with the promise of the possibility of seeing President Charles Logan's (ex?) wife's milk jugs again for the first time since last season on 24. Or, at the very least, I'll get to look on with admiration at the man whose character got to manhandle those sandbags for so many fictional years.

If I ever stop liking 24 for being 24, I want you to go ahead and kneel me down, turn me around with my hands on my head, and shoot me off out of my misery execution style. By now, if you've seen more than a season of 24, you know the routine. They always leave just so many characters alive from a previous season so they can come back and (SURPRISE!!!) show up midway to help a Bauer out in his hour of need. Or hours of need, depending on how long the writers allow this character to live before he's sacrificed for the greater good of American Freedom. GOD I want to go over and kill some terrorists!

By the way, is anyone noticing that the British chap who plays Morris is by far and away the best actor on that show - perhaps the best actor that's EVER been on that show? It's like watching Dwyane Wade playing NBA ball with a bunch of seven year olds (only with slightly fewer foul shots). I mean, if he doesn't get some kind of Supporting Actor Emmy consideration, I'll firebomb those proceedings myself.

For starters, I haven't seen that much sass and attitude since the first season of Chloe vs. Edgar Stiles. Now, we can safely say where she gets her spunk (oooo, that IS what she said...). He's mouthing off to Milo, sweet-talking Chloe, meanwhile keeping impeccable facial stubble throughout the season. And, just when you think he's gonna be some bit-part hussy like Darlene Connor from Day 2 of 24, he goes and gets himself kidnapped.

Wait ... what's that? Why, it's the appearance of GENUINE FEAR! My stars! Imagine! Being kidnapped by terrorists with guns and bats and power drills and ACTUALLY being afraid. I swear to Christ you never notice it with this show, but it seems like everyone who's ever kidnapped or taken hostage is always cool and collected, stoic in their behavior and stature. Now you've got Morris here, and his voice is cracking, he's snivelling and trying to compose himself even though his obvious natural inclination is to start sobbing like a little girl ... just like ANYONE in real life would act like under similar circumstances!

Now, he's trying to come to grips with the fact that he may have assisted in dooming hundreds of thousands of individuals - he's already an alcoholic I guess it's been established - so he goes out to chug a half a pint of whiskey. He's fraught with conflicting emotions: depression because he created The Device, and this need to redeem himself in some way by doing his job and playing his part in recovering those bombs before they're detonated. So, he vomits the whiskey back out, takes AH Altoid, and well I guess we'll see where it goes from there.

Can I just say right now that I don't see Morris finishing out the season alive? Again, if you've seen one season of 24, you've seen the formula outline for them all. Somewhere down the line, Morris will give his life in the name of saving whatever and everyone will see him as a great man who blah blah blah. Sincerely, I hope this isn't the case. Obviously, if it comes down to Jack Bauer and Morris, you know who I'm keeping alive; and for as much as I enjoy Buchanan and Nadia and Chloe and yes even Wayne Palmer; and even though Milo is a passable actor who at least has the talent of always looking either annoyed, constipated, or like a 2 year old who's had his candy taken away for being a brat; no one has been as enjoyable to see on screen than Morris. No one since Edgar Stiles anyway and you just CAN'T take the two baddest mama jamas in consecutive seasons!

I swear, if you do that to me, you better give me Mike Novick as president of Season 7 in return, that's all I'm saying.
 
 
21 February 2007 @ 02:22 pm
Hi, my name is Steven Taylor, I'll be playing the part of Buck Melanoma this week. I have some giant fucking tumor growing on my face next to my nose. It feels like a zit, is greasy like a zit, but when I rub it I get aroused because it's as big as a tit! Seriously, this thing has its own cup size; I'm a half a candy bar away from wearing a 32-B manssiere across my face.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go jump onto the train tracks and see about getting a rat to gnaw this thing off my face.