Here's what the weather's like in Mineola, NY for the next few days.
And it's okay, right? I think the most powerful aspect of Cormac McCarthy's The Road is the post-apocalyptic weather. Constantly gloomy, constantly shrouded in cold wet misery. It's darker than the movie portrays it as well. It makes sense that people would degenerate quickly this way. No more sirens or birds, just cannibals slithering around.
Mom tells me yesterday while we're cooking chicken and dumpling soup that this weather makes her feel miserable and I tell her that it's in our blood to hate this weather--that we need the sun, that spics, especially, need the sun. It regenerates our souls--maybe, who cares.
Dexter is fantastic, of course.
Somebody stole Fallout 3 from my mailbox.
I'm still holding on to The Day the Earth Stood Still because I don't have a raincoat and I'm a little girl and the library only charges a quarter for every late day, I think. This is the Keanu Reeves version, mind you.
I would try to write some sort of comparative review if I didn't think it would bore my blog fans, which are numerous. I just think it's worth mentioning the featured review on the DVD case: "This time there's MORE ACTION, more special effects and MORE MAYHEM!" -Watertown Daily Times
For those of you who aren't familiar with this film, it's about an alien that comes to Earth and appears wholly human and insists on delivering a message of paramount importance to all the leaders of the world simultaneously. Once the alien, Klaatu, realizes the Earth is an impassable bureaucracy, shit starts going down because a machine that was meant to destroy the Earth/defend Klaatu, starts doing just that. But I think this film, the new version of this film about sums it up for us. This shows what we need these days to be entertained. Hyper-entertainment. Look at The Clash of the Titans for god's (of Olympus) sake.
Nothing is simple anymore.
The classics are a homage to this notion.
Two crazy bitches blow themselves up in Russia yesterday. And New Yorkers start to question their daily commute.
I wrote this poem:
Bombing at Moscow Metro
I had a dream that I was the one person to capture the moments
after Moscow Metro was attacked by two human bombs, female at that.
I capture the people fleeing the train from within inside the train,
trailing sideways until I reach the end of the car and swing the camera to what
I see
another woman with a bomb strapped to her and I yell
AW SHIT
and drop kick her chest while I feel my legs melt away
then my hips and chest and arms
but I watch the camera fly past the flames and land
salvageable
--
Today, the Large Hadron Collider finally had its first successful run, and guess what, we're all still alive. And Toaster Strudles still taste just as good.
