Lee Kemp

I’ve just watched the entire seven episode mini-series in about two days. HBO really do know what they’re doing. Funnily enough I had a very brief email exchange several years ago with Capt. Nathaniel Fick after he appeared on BBC Radio Five Live and he turns out to be the platoon leader in this stunningly good TV series. I’m not gonna go on about it how good it is, instead I’m gonna give you some of my favourite lines of dialogue. Suffice to say it comes from the same stable as The Wire and is based on the book of the same name. That should be all you need to know.

Is it realistic? Probably. I’m not the best person to ask but I can tell you it completely matches my experience of being in the army on a day to day basis. It never ceases to amaze how quickly and bizarrely things can be fucked up. How tasks can be made more stupid, more inane and inexorably harder by what can only be incompetence, arrogance or impatience higher up. That’s real life for you. The bits that I would know about they got right enough to let me trust the bits I don’t know about.

Much of the action takes place in the lead humvee. Here’s a couple of my favourite bits:

Trombley:
didn’t your Mom put your picture up on the Wal-Mart wall of heroes?”

Ray:
Yep. My grandma did when I went to Afghanistan. I’m on the Nevada Missouri Wal-Mart wall of heroes. I’ve even got my dress blues on.

Brad:
If my mother ever distributed my likeness without written authorisation I would disown her.

Ray:
Technically speaking Brad but didn’t your biological parents disown you when they put you up for adoption?

Brad:
Point Ray . I was one of those unfortunates adopted by upper middle class professionals and nurtured in an environment of learning, art and a socio-religious cultured steeped in more than 2000 years of Talmudic tradition. Not everyone is lucky enough to have been raised in a whisky tango trailer park by a bow legged female who’s sole qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch the sperm of a passing truck driver.

Ray:
At least my Mom took me to Nascar.

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Brad (to Ray):

But then again the world wouldn’t have to deal with the prospect of you returning to your cretinous daughter fucking trailerpark red-state shithole and producing mutant whisky tango scrotum faced buck toothed zit exploding progeny.

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Ray (to Brad):

Look at me Brad, I’m a man now. Just like you. Except I don’t look like a faggot and talk all educated.

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Generation Kill screens on Channel 4 later this year.

It’s Friday night. I’ve just gone through about 18 months worth of Empire magazines adding all the films I fancy to my Lovefilm list. The dogs on the bed licking my stockinged feet (stockinged as in socks) while I wait for the house to become empty so I can watch Franklyn and I’ve been asked to be a guest blogger in Birmingham’s Big Debate

It’s a good day.

I’ve got a script ready to go. It’s very short, pretty self contained and won’t take too much to do. It’s called Cherry Pie.

Watch this space.