Malcolm Turnbull starts the year by trying to keep us all more afraid of terrorists than the extreme right w(h)ingers in his own party. Trump sends much love to the ‘losers’ an continues to demonstrate how someone with the emotional maturity of a fish egg can continue to be a complete loss even when they’re set to become the most powerful man on the planet.
Rach and Carter (the Elderbeast) head off to the cricket early in the afternoon (not returning until past midnight). The Kinderbeast and I entertain ourselves as best we can, in large part by playing the Mars Rover game given to him by Hedgie for Christmas. We attempt to watch Beauty & The Beast (which I have this far failed to see) but it does little to capture the Kinderbeast’s attention. We dine on pasta and a homemade cheese sauce, of which I am inordinately proud (especially as it gets a literal thumbs up from the Kinderbeast).
Settling the Kinderbeast proves a struggle, but he finally relents at around 9pm. With the house to myself I make use of the last precious hours of solitude by watching Hellraiser Bloodlines: The Restored Director’s Cut (which isn’t restored in the conventional sense – someone has merely taken clips of a diabolically rough VHS workprint and edited them into footage from the finished film). It proves another exercise in Hollywood squandering the potential of a decent concept, but also revives my occasional interest in the Hellraiser franchise.
I go to bed and read the Lovecraft graphic novel that Hedgie has lent me, and idly wonder whether there are any stories about the old gods in me.