I've been uncommonly lethargic lately, especially in my spare time--probably because I'm spread so thin that by the time I get home from work, I just wanna crash. It might also have something to do with the fact that I've all but stopped jogging. Aerobic activity: so invigorating.
Or it could be just because I'm growing into an old lazy fuckwad.
Whatever the reason, I found myself doing very little this weekend. Cleaned up the new house so the contractors could begin work. Went to the gym. Attended a very petit birthday party for friends. Spent a couple of hours working on the party scenes in Camille. Made a brief sojourn to the gymnasium. But overall, I spent most of my time in bed, watching public television. And I noticed something very, very strange.
Liev Schreiber has a complete monopoly on the narration racket. Like, seriously, at one point I saw three of his documentaries in a friggin' row: one on genetics and Egyptology; one on animal intelligence; and a third on evolutionary adaptation. He's singlehandedly done away with John Lithgow, Stacy Keach, and that guy who does the voiceovers for the Arthur S. DeMoss ads ("Life. What a beautiful choice."). I hope he's paying his agent well...
