Ill Met By Moonlight

Never in the history of insomnia, short of the guy who got a spike through the head and didn't sleep for fifteen years, has there ever been anyone more awake than I am right now.

Dagnabbit.

Random things that you remember you read that suddenly come to you when you're wide awake at 5 in the morning, wondering if you should pack it in and get up or vainly struggle to get two more fitful hours of sleep in:

• The guy who plays Ellsworth on Deadwood, Jim Beaver, is apparently such an expert on George Reeves and his mysterious death that he's a technical advisor on the upcoming Hollywoodland, and is publishing a book on it. Weird. What would Al Swearegen think?
  
  
• Jaime Weinman reminds us that Hugh Carlson's classic WKRP episode "Fish Story" (the one where Johnny gets better at the breathalyzer the more he drinks) was written out of contempt for what was felt to be asinine network notes. Just goes to show that sometimes writers' prickly contempt (and even cruel or silly network notes) can lead to greatness. That's one for the humble bag.
  
  
• After writing this series for so long now, I want to write half hour comedy almost as much as I want a big juicy steak or a nice piece of fish. With all that's bullshit about Canada, unlike in Hollywood, here you really can do both if you want -- and if you have the talent -- and well -- sometimes, sometimes it almost makes up for the--
  
  --oh who am I kidding? I'd trade it all for a little more sleep right now.
  
  
• Then there's this picture, courtesy of L.A. film blogger Peggy Archer, of a piece of Grafitti on Paramount's Stage 24:

Why yes. Yes it does.

Fucker.

Tomorrow, we're on to Production Pinks.

Uh...I mean, today.

Wheeeeee!