Hey look, it’s a new background theme! As much as I liked the old one, there was a weird spacing issue that I was too lazy to go in and fix via CSS (also, nerd fail: I don’t necessarily know how). How long until this one is changed? Wuhidunno. I keep meaning to put some level of personalisation onto it, but then I keep forgetting to make space on the desk for my scanner and that is how a baby procrastination is born…

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Predators in 30 words: Perfectly good and unpretentious shooty-uppy, swordy-wordy B-movie that provides ample entertainment for its hour and forty minutes. Also: Kurosawa fight! Spetsnaz! Larry Fishburn as Bear Grylls! Mild gunporn!

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Not living in a major metropolitan area has the rather unfortunate drawback in having to be very damn careful of what websites I look at when something comes out that I don’t have immediate access to and wish to avoid spoilers of (in this case, Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour). It’s the very reason that I took days off work to read the Harry Potter books when they came out – after a certain amount of time and investment, you don’t want your enjoyment taken down by anything but disappointment in the work itself. Having the best parts explained to you by someone lacks a certain… quality.

Remember: nerd rage is not big, nor is it clever. It’s just kind of sad and embarrassing, really.

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And now, our feature presentation.

Rewatching The Wire is an interesting experience I allow myself every couple of years. The first runthrough, in which you watch it with virgin eyes unless you have evil friends or the Wikipedia Disease, is an education in sociology and the nature of institutions. The second runthrough is almost certainly going to be an examination of craft and a reevaluation of your original views: there is no way you can consider Daniels or McNulty in the same way as you did when first introduced to the characters; your viewpoint is altered by knowing where they go and what they do. Critically, you are not perturbed by the close of their character arcs: in a lot of fiction, a character’s departure can be almost random and without any logistical purpose other than the efficacy of their removal; in The Wire, even though you may not predict how their stories will finish, it feels like a logical and natural progression of the character and their actions. With the second viewing, this is emphasised doubly so.

I, however, am now onto my third viewing. What is fascinating about this is that I am still seeing new angles and interpretations of the same story. The main difference is that I am more focused on the secondary and tertiary characters, such as Ziggy in season 2. Ziggy is a perfect example of the depth available to multiple viewings: in your first view, he is a frustrating and difficult character to watch until the very end in which you hopefully feel some pity or at least sympathy for him. On the second viewing, you bring this sympathy with you, and it colours how you see him. By this point, my heart is broken by him as he comes into focus as one of the biggest victims of the series.

Without saying too much (spoiling The Wire being one of the Great Taboos of TV), he is someone who is not only ground down by social institutions, he is destroyed by the people around him as well: typically, it is people acting on behalf of the institution that cause the effect; in Ziggy’s case, the individuals do this as much for their own pleasure as they do social dictates. For all his bluster and arrogance and bad decision-making, he is someone desperately trying to find a role for himself and some measure of acceptance. All his trash talk is a direct response to external stimuli, which frequently tends to be the derision of him supporters and enablers as much as his opponents and dissenters. After the Thing With The Duck, the stevedores in the bar mock and insult Ziggy behind his back even though they were the ones who egged him on. Rather than send Ziggy to college as they did his brother, his father keeps him trapped within the same social decay he is himself trapped within, unable to qualify why. Ziggy’s unseen brother is critical in this: he is not mentioned before Ziggy and Frank’s father-son talk on the docks, and is never mentioned again; he’s the one who escaped the circumstances of his birth and the dock life, while Ziggy is the one destroyed by it. Even Nicky, Ziggy’s uber-competent cousin, treats Ziggy as his mood takes him and without any real empathy outside of personal convenience. All of this is crytallised with Ziggy’s final major act of the series: not only do we realise that this could have happened at any point prior, but it is only in the aftermath that we see anything resembling Ziggy’s actual personality, long since submerged in an effort to fit in. It’s the only time we see a genuine, sober and honest reaction from him.

It’s impossible to see this from the first viewing, and with the cast of hundreds, hard to see on the second. There are few things in this world that can stand up to this sort of scrutiny. Some of the Terry Pratchett books I read when I was younger have taken on new meaning since I came into some semblance of adulthood and a vague understanding of how and why people act, but it’s only the more recent books (such as The Truth and Going Postal) that bear up as entities of sociological and mechanistic scrutiny rather than interesting character dynamics and jolly comedy. Infinite Jest is about the only thing that springs to mind as something comparable (and even then with two caveats: first, that there are probably others and suggestions are welcome; second, that Infinite Jest requires even an even greater gap than the couple of years The Wire requires before diving in anew).

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