There's always a certain hint of poetry with the way CSI handles murder cases scientifically. May it be William Petersen, David Caruso, or Gary Sinise. From the professional night work in Las Vegas, the marshes that surround Miami, and to the crazy politics of the very infamous New York.
My brother taught me that intellectual people are fond of intellectual games and puzzles during their rest time. He said that practicing your mind with a lighter load of problem solving during a break makes your mind more flexible when you go back to work. Chess, for example. You don't play chess for a living, it's just a game you play. Of course, if athletics is your life, then that's a whole new totally concept ~_^
There was also this conversation I had with one of my friends, a comparison of all three CSI series. They were debating on what was more artsy, or which one gave more emotion, etc. It was kind of hard on my part because I liked all three. There was this episode, though, about transvestites that totally changed my perspective. This
episode just made me respect them even more.
I then realized that CSI is more than just portraying a certain aura: the wild life in Las Vegas, the depressing swamps in Miami (I feel melancholic when it comes to bodies of water), and the monotonic feel (colors) to New York's episodes.
I guess it's just any other art form that tries to portray itself through the murder cases; the type of shows that show the real meaning of life through death.
It's like watching HBO's Six Feet Under (that I miss watching so much), but on a different setting and a totally different timeline. It's all about life, and its appreciation of its own true and perfect sense.
There are two types of male oysters,
and one of them can change gender at will;
and before man crawl out of the muck(?),
maybe he had the same option.
Maybe originally, we were supposed
to be able to switch gender,
and being born with just one sex,
is a mutation.
~Grissom
