Settling down for my 8pm live tweet of a programme that doesn’t have a scheduled broadcast time, and where the episode concerned has been available best part of a week. Welcome to modern TV #Snowpiercer https://twitter.com/bennewmark/status/1283432117028958211

Would you like to know what happens on a luxury train after the end of world comes in the form of perpetual winter? Well, so would we all, but instead we’ve got #Snowpiercer and it’s frankly baffling plot & world building. Still, we’ve come this far, let’s stick at it.

Last week was quite a busy episode actually—there was a REVOLUTION, which consisted of storming a nightclub for an extremely graphic pitched battle over territory *of no strategic value*, so well done everyone there.

Tho prize for the poorest military planning last week surely has to go to the train’s security forces who continued running towards what was very obviously a ballista and getting kebabed despite the fact that trained armed response personnel are presumably quite a rare commodity

And keeping the ones you’ve got safe would probably be a sound idea. Mind you, maybe all the good ones died already and this is the dross they’ve got left. Or had left. Anyway, it was all very bloody.

Meanwhile, in First Class, a collection of genuinely awful & apparently rather dense people had finally worked out that Walt Disney was no longer running the Train of Mouse, and as a result became unspeakably, and fairly inexplicably angry.

In particular, Ruth—revealed previously to have once been a B&B proprietor in Kendell—became so angry she sentenced her erstwhile boss Melanie to death for keeping Mr Wilford’s absence a secret.

This presumably came as something of a shock to Melanie, given she’d previously held a full trial for a women who had openly confessed to involvement in the murder of multiple people, but was now being deprived of life without recourse to the law, despite having gone to Yale.

Other reasons this didn’t make sense include Melanie is the only person who knows how to run the train, and also, seriously, how mad can you be that someone you’ve neither spoken to nor seen for the best part of a decade after an apocalypse is brown bread?

Still, possibly that’s the kind of loyalty you accrue if you’re able to get people out of a career serving small sausages and soggy toast to people in Cumbria.

Any rate, at the end it turned out that elsewhere on the train, Dr Personal Affront (compare twitter avi to character for explanation) was dragging people out of cryogenic suspension in drawers to discover they now speak Mandarin and also, I think, one’s gone missing.