Way too wired for sleep on Friday night, I watch Season 3 of Slings & Arrows. The final performance of Lear in the series makes me cry, and you see maybe five minutes of it. Damn. Ultimately I don't find the third series as enjoyable as the first two, but it's still the best show about life performance I've ever seen. The fact William Hutt plays a dying actor doing Lear, so close to his own death ... again -- damn.
To decompress, reading The Lies of Locke Lamora. The reviews on this are strong, and deservedly so. I don't read a lot of fantasy literature -- make that "practically none -- but the tone of this thing is a delight. Think Medici Venice with some magic, a few molten glass towers, and now add a genuinely engaging heist story in the middle of it. That's right, it's really a dead solidly plotted con/crime story that happens to be set in a fantasy novel. No "thous", "forsooths", or fucking elves. Just a lightning-fast story of cutpurses, false priests, spies, rebels, and complicated financial scams set in one of the most fully, grittily realized "other places" I've read in a while. Mieville meets Thomas Crown, with slightly fewer bug-faced aliens and giant rib cages. Definitely recommended.
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