How about some TV forensics then?…

But first…
Dulltown, UK/Europe: Today’s carefully selected colours are: carburettor cream, manifold mauve, radiator russet, alternator azure, sump sienna, and petroleum puce.

Of course, when you flick around the channels, and land on one of these things that’s just starting, and you notice that certain names have been changed because some of the people involved don’t want to be associated with a trashy TV show, and that some hired actors will be playing the non-cop characters, and that the cops will play themselves, you think that you might as well stick with it for a while, as you are confident that good will triumph in the end, and the awful perp will be seen at the end, wearing an orange jumpsuit and in tight nipping handcuffs, as he or she, is sentenced for the dastardly deed that you have just witnessed in strange lighting and jerky slow motion – and everyone will go away slightly scared, but somehow satisfied, and also impressed by the great slow grinding rusty wheels of justice. (I think dear reader, that might be the longest sentence I have ever written.)
Yes, it’s those US ‘real life’ police, forensic, scientific, drama, re-enactments that are so very popular on our TV screens. Yes, isn’t it great, sitting eating your poached egg on buttered toast watching some terrible scallywag fleeing the scene in a stolen truck (almost always a red one) pursued by overweight cops with small blinking eyes and sad serious mouths?
I only watch these things so that I can jot down some choice snatches from the voice-over and dialogue to create a sort of, for want of a better word, poem, for you dear reader:

When a neighbour dialled 911 – just an average guy, on an average day – during this time-frame word begins to spread – were drugs involved? – I was ecstatic of course! – he was pretty much a sunk puppy then – it separates the DNA – and those unusual tyre tracks! –  three blocks from the scene – a SWAT team in the house? – neighbours can get very vicious – burglarized places – a single shadowy figure – there are no coincidences! – just for the thrill of it – but no new leads – a palm print? – the guys and gals out on the street – you feel powerless – his thirst unquenched – peering in the window – it was scoured for hairs – police finally got a break – entered into the database – unrepentant – now thinking about a life behind prison bars.


About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
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