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Cauliflower Sky

CauliflowerSky_2
Photo by Nathan Peters

cauliflower sky
result of massive wild fire
chaos-made art work

General Hospital — Post 4

CrichtonClark

Or Escape From Crichton-Clark

I’m way overdue in writing about General Hospital. My sister has probably given up on me. I finally caught up last night with all the episodes, and thought that I’d scribble down some notes. The escape from Crichton-Clark is the perfect time to do so.

My bullet points about the show are as follows:

• Rebuild that wacky research facility immediately and rename the show Crichton-Clark. The labyrinth of halls and copious rooms of that place are way more interesting than General Hospital’s. How many other old GH super villains were sequestered in those rooms—who knows?

• The show has been flirting with science fiction for decades. I say embrace it. Port Charles is the hub of some kind of pocket universe, similar to ours, sharing some elements of pop culture, but distances are so much more compact in their world. No matter where a character is, no matter how far away, after a scene change, and, or a commercial break, they’re back at General Hospital discussing the latest plot development.

• Since we’re on the subject of science fiction, I would like to point out that the facility is called Crichton-Clark. I can’t be the only one who caught the reference to Michael Crichton and Arthur C. Clark (am I?)—two of the most notable science fiction authors of the twentieth century.

LukeTrek

• Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for resolution on the Luke’s-ne’er-do-well-evil-cousin, or whatever, story line. I understand that fans on the Internet are referring to him as Fake Luke, or “Fluke.” I refuse to use that rather sophomoric term, and prefer to think of him as Phoney Luke, or “Phluke.” Things are moving way too slowly, yet inexorably toward some kind of climax, where Phluke will be revealed, and they’ll rescue Real Luke, or as we call him, “Luke” out of that mental institution.

• When will it finally be revealed that Nikolas Cassadine is, in actuality, Batman?

• Imagine depending on Maxie Jones to rescue you. She would handle the job with the same skill and acumen as Barney Fife, Gilligan, or Lou Costello.

• Victor (Frankenstein) Cassadine activated a self-destruct sequence. Unfortunately, he could only afford the model that would detonate only after every character has been made aware of what the annoying claxon sound was, leisurely walk the halls whilst discussing a few plot threads, and then successfully exit the building.

• Can you really take anyone seriously who is named “Lu Lu?”

• The awesome hunk that is Detective Nathan West has the well-honed fighting skills of an eleven-year-old Girl Scout.

• Say what you want about Maxie Jones (and I think I already have), but she did manage to stab Peter Harrell, Jr. in the back. Yes, Peter certainly got her point, as he was beating Nathan West in hand-to-hand combat AGAIN! If there were truly justice in the world, however, it would have been so much more satisfying had she buried the knife in him back when he was still annoying, long-haired Aussie, Levi Dunkleman.

• Stavros Casadine may actually be dead this time, but I’m not going to hold my breath. What an awesome over-the-top villain he was. He could easily have been the crown jewel of any Ed Wood film.

To be continued…

Warning Signs and You (#36 in a series)

FiretruckSign

The Emergency Vehicle Warning Sign
is important, as it alerts us to the
possibility of an abrupt appearance
of a 1940s-era fire truck.

Other cautionary signage to be on the
look out for are the
Warning: Edsels Ahead Sign
and the ominous
Danger: Corvair Attack Imminent Sign.

Empty Newspaper Machines Redux

image

hard-dying relics
from a truly bygone age
where ink on newsprint
stained our fingers
instead of the digital deluge
that stains our brains

Empty News Machines

NoNews

old carapaces
heralds with nothing to say
bereft of substance

In Mourning

Flowers

an old friend has died
disconcerted and woeful
unexpected loss

The Freebie Basket

Basket

at-work offerings
there’s ne’er a Fabergé Egg
always bums me out

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