To help make up for the lack of recent activity, I bring you a classic post from an old, now defunct blog I had. Perhaps this will compel me to actually watch the rest of the Twilight saga... if only to reaffirm that either I don't know a good movie when it gnaws on my face, or, no one else does.
So, I finally got around to watching the movie Twilight, mostly because I picked up a used copy for a friend and figured, you know, since it's lying around watchin' it probably wouldn't kill me. And it didn't kill me... physically. But on the inside... yeah. I died a little. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't a terrible movie per se. In fact the baseball scene is quite possibly the most charming thing I've seen on celluloid in some time. I'm sure most folks have already seen this thing since from what I hear Robert Pattinson is now moistening the panties of girls of all ages (Which I find baffling, being as his eyebrows, you know the ones, the ones that give him his patented dark'n'broody™ look, also leave the impression that two ink dipped caterpillars are locked in a constant bloody war for control of his face). So rather than touch on any specific plot points or concessions that perturbed me, allow me instead to present a short dramatic scene that we can reasonably extrapolate might take place in the Twilight universe
Dramatis Personae
Some Chick (SC)
Joe Vampire (JV)
Quileute Passerby (QP)
We join our heroes mid conversation as Some Chick tries to convince Joe Vampire to 'Turn' her to the Vampiric state of being
SC: Please! I only want the same chance at eternity that you do!
JV: No! Never! You don't understand what you're asking... You could never understand...
SC: But I do my love, I know I'll be cursed to subsist on human blood and descend into monstrosity!
JV: ...Well, that's not entirely true, I mean, my family mostly just runs around being extra nice to people... Oh! but we only eat animals... and it is, you know, kinda hard. like being a vegetarian... of which there are hundreds of thousands...but you know *ahem* hard
SC: Oh... well I understand that the weight of centuries will surely leave me with a crushing sense of ennui
JV: ...Not necessarily, I mean my family and I mostly play baseball and dance...but we have to move alot... so that's uh... kinda unfortunate... I guess
SC: But surely I'll lead a horrific existence, unable to ever again see the light of the sun, lest it burn my undead form to cinders right?
JV: Ha ha ha, no. The sun won't destroy you, but it will make you sort of like um... exude glitter and rainbows so yeah, that's... ah... that's kinda inconvenient.
SC: So... wait, you get to live essentially forever, Have crazy superpowers, AND psychic powers of various stripes, and the biggest drawback is... You glitter? And, that is the life you dare not share with me...
JV: You... you just don't understand the true nature of my curse *brood* *pout*
SC: ... Right...
At this point Some Chick grabs a conveniently placed golf club and swings it at Joe Vampire's head causing severe cranial trauma
SC: Jerk!
As Joe Vampire drops to the floor a Quileute tribesman passing by in the background turns to the audience and speaks
QP: Wow! Now that's what I call cracking open a Cold One!
All laugh. Actors take their bow and exit stage left
So, yeah... Lots of liberties taken with the vampire mythos which kinda kills the whole Gothic Romance vibe. On the plus side Ashley Greene is rather hawt.
And now, Bonus content! Robert Pattinson Fan-Art!!
Rantings on whatever strikes my fancy.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Pain lies on the Riverside,or I'm back baby!
If anyone actually read this thing (my sister excluded), they might have noticed a bit of a lack in the posting department. Never fear gentle readers, I am not dead, rather I was merely living in a a budgetarily enforced state of transiency. Yes friends, like such luminaries as Matt Foley I lived in a van down by the river. 
Now I am kind of a big dude. To help give you some perspective here are but a few examples of the nicknames I have been given over the years, Jolly Green Giant, Grimace, Grape Ape, Frost Giant, Hill Giant, Goliath, Hercules, Muscles. Perhaps you sense a theme here? This is important, because it means that trying to cram my 6"6' body into the back of a passenger van was distinctly uncomfortable. It also made subtlety a bit of a challenge since tinted windows of no I was pretty visible if I slept on the seats (sleeping in a car pretty much anywhere means you are loitering, if not out and out trespassing) which means knocks on the window in the dead of night from the 5-0 and demands that you move with variable degrees of politeness.
To combat this, I would cram myself onto the floor between the two sets of back seats, making myself as unobtrusive as possible. Now, I don't know if you have ever ever tried to sleep with your kneecaps lodged firmly in your ribcage, whilst a deep sense of paranoia gnaws at your guts every time you can see headlights through the windows "Oh crap! The fuzz!" I'd exclaim, and in trying to make myself smaller, I'd usually get my shoulder caught underneath the seat and flail about pathetically like a fish out of water. It was precisely as comfortable as you might imagine. Additionally, It gets really hot in the van at night one night I awoke from a burning pain in my distended knee, absolutely convinced that a family of South African Devil ants had taken up residence and were gnawing away. Whereupon I lifted my head to let out a girlish scream and tried to massage life back into my twisted extremities. When I laid my head back down, my pillow actually squelched like a sponge because it was so saturated in sweat. That is the degree of heat we are talking. I slipped back into a fitful sleep and dreamed that the Lady of the Lake was rising out my pillow and bestowing Excalibur upon the ants in my knee.
I kept this up for a couple of weeks, before finally accepting the constant offers of aid from some friends of mine, so I once again have lodgings (with all the internet access that entails),because like the noble leech before me, I have mastered the art of subsisting on the life blood of others... yay?
Now I am kind of a big dude. To help give you some perspective here are but a few examples of the nicknames I have been given over the years, Jolly Green Giant, Grimace, Grape Ape, Frost Giant, Hill Giant, Goliath, Hercules, Muscles. Perhaps you sense a theme here? This is important, because it means that trying to cram my 6"6' body into the back of a passenger van was distinctly uncomfortable. It also made subtlety a bit of a challenge since tinted windows of no I was pretty visible if I slept on the seats (sleeping in a car pretty much anywhere means you are loitering, if not out and out trespassing) which means knocks on the window in the dead of night from the 5-0 and demands that you move with variable degrees of politeness.
To combat this, I would cram myself onto the floor between the two sets of back seats, making myself as unobtrusive as possible. Now, I don't know if you have ever ever tried to sleep with your kneecaps lodged firmly in your ribcage, whilst a deep sense of paranoia gnaws at your guts every time you can see headlights through the windows "Oh crap! The fuzz!" I'd exclaim, and in trying to make myself smaller, I'd usually get my shoulder caught underneath the seat and flail about pathetically like a fish out of water. It was precisely as comfortable as you might imagine. Additionally, It gets really hot in the van at night one night I awoke from a burning pain in my distended knee, absolutely convinced that a family of South African Devil ants had taken up residence and were gnawing away. Whereupon I lifted my head to let out a girlish scream and tried to massage life back into my twisted extremities. When I laid my head back down, my pillow actually squelched like a sponge because it was so saturated in sweat. That is the degree of heat we are talking. I slipped back into a fitful sleep and dreamed that the Lady of the Lake was rising out my pillow and bestowing Excalibur upon the ants in my knee.
I kept this up for a couple of weeks, before finally accepting the constant offers of aid from some friends of mine, so I once again have lodgings (with all the internet access that entails),because like the noble leech before me, I have mastered the art of subsisting on the life blood of others... yay?
Friday, July 2, 2010
Butterfly Assassins or, Monsterously Hardcore
I was cruising down the road today, past a field of surprisingly fragrant wildflowers, I had my window down, (as I do in pretty much any weather where the ambient temperature is over 10 degrees) when I noticed a change overtake the asphalt. It went from the rather traditional black color, to a near uniform shade of yellow. The reason behind this change quickly became apparent. an inordinate number of butterflies were fluttering about in the field, and frequently flying right into the path of oncoming cars. Splat. I resigned myself to the ensuing slaughter (I certainly contributed to the lush carpet of corpses on my journey), but I was unprepared for one particular butterfly. It was flying in front of my windshield, when it got caught in a draft and blown right through my open window. It hit me square in the face with the equivalent force of a particularly light slap. This exchange was much harder for the butterfly...So, yeah... I totally headbutted a butterfly to death. I can't decide whether this makes me a monster on par with a serial puppy kicker,or just inexpressibly hardcore.
New Chevrolet (!) In Flames or, Drivin' On
And lo! We come to the end of the car crash saga. I (finally) received my check from the ol' Geckotarium for my poor totaled Taurus, and, armed with my miniscule payout, and the sure knowledge that my car rental would cease to be covered the very next day set out on a 24 hr. quest for new wheels. 'Twas an arduous journey fraught with peril (I still lie awake in amazement that I managed to defeat that deadly Exhaust Viper with only a bit of chewed bubblegum, and a stale piece of broken potato chip) but in the end... Victory! I got meself a shiny new (used) van. I actually bought from a dealership (Usually I buy straight from private sellers) so I was a little taken aback at the volume of paperwork. For instance, I had no idea growing a creepy stalker mustache was actually a contractual necessity for van ownership (fortunately I was able to fool the dealer by holding a comb over my upper lip... sucka!). Totally worth it tho', the ability to seat eight people will totally come in handy during my life of near unrelenting solitude. I am beginning to wonder however if it is defective. The gas gauge has been staying steadily at the half tank mark for far longer than seems plausible.... I guess the logical conclusion is that the meter may be broken, but my real concern is that the motor may be powered by something more abstract than mere fuel. Initially I feared it might be powered by something like minutes off my lifespan (At an exchange rate of 70 miles per minute), and that I should perhaps return such a sinister nightmare engine forthwith, but than I realized it could just as easily run off of something benign, like the shattered dreams or orphaned children, so for now I'll hang on to it and try to get to the bottom of this mystery.
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