Woke up before 3 AM, so I’ve been killing time by watching season one of The X-Files. This show exists in a weird time-chasm, for me. The technology is all dated, as are the costumes and styling, but it’s not dated enough to feel historical or look weird. It’s almost modern, but not quite. So when a character puts in a cassette tape, I’m thrown out of the story. Whoa, I think, when was the last time I saw one of those?
Yet, I have a whole box of them in the house, shoved into a random corner, and totally ignored. I even have a stereo with a dual cassette player right over there. (I’m looking at it, fyi. See how I did that? Of course not! I crack myself up.)
It’s a good show; it holds up well. I hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much, the second time around. I wasn’t a big fan, back in the day. I probably saw most of the episodes from the first few seasons, but I stopped watching the show completely after the Mom-In-The-Box episode. I cannot even express how completely and totally that episode freaked me out.
Mulder isn’t quite as annoying as I’d remembered. He’s still very annoying, but I no longer want to punch him in the throat. Perhaps I’m mellowing with age.
The other odd time-traveling bit is recognizing certain actors, but seeing them younger on screen than they are now, when I know them primarily from their more recent work. Photographs never give me quite this sense of cognitive dissonance. Fascinating.