Tuesday, Oct. 1, 2002
Dear Diary:

Okay, so last night's episode of the Forsyte saga was a humdinger.

I had a great time sitting on the sofa waving my arms and telling various characters, "DON'T DO IT" but of course these people will not listen to The Voice of Reason (a.k.a. me) and they are racing towards these incredible emotional trainwrecks.

It was very satisfying.

The guy who ran off with the governess was poor but happy until his father re-appeared and started waving money around. His new wife, the governess, is ticked off and feels it's too little too late.

Will The Man Who Ditched It All For Love be able to mend fences with his aged father?

We Do Not Know.

Irenie, the beauteous Victorian maiden last seen in the rain, has entered into a loveless marriage with the cold-hearted but insanely rich Soames Forsyte. The guy who plays Soames has given him a reptilian aura that's quite wonderful. His only vulnerability is His Love For His Wife Who He Can Never Truly Possess.

Soames hopes he can salvage the last shreds of his marriage (after only two years together they're already in separate bedrooms! Eeeek!) by building his wife a palace out in the country. The architect Soames hires is engaged to one of Soames' nieces but has the hots for Mrs. Soames and has made a move on her.

The architect is very handsome in a bohemian, artistic cad and bounder sort of way.

He knows Mrs. Soames hasn't been getting any nookie for eons.

He's putting the moves on her.

As the episode closed it was clear That Very Bad Things Are About To Happen.

It was very satisfying.

See, here's The Dirty Secret about costume dramas. They are soap operas dressed in period clothes with fancy schmancy accents. Really. It's true. And they are ALL based on The One True Rule of Soap Opera Truth, Beauty and Justice:

You can be insanely rich, but your money is not allowed to buy you happiness.

That, people, is the crux of the matter.

Now that you know that, I expect you all to run out and write The Very Best Soap Operas Ever, earn buttloads of money and despite a life of glitz, travel, toys and debauchery finally discover that money cannot buy you happiness.

I mean, really, how hard can it be?

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.