Once upon a time, we got a request to help The Countess in an online poll. For our participation, she agreed to write an erotic horror story with us in mind.
It’s done! You can now go read Maneater! All yours, for free! It might still be nice if you left some feedback on the story, though.
This is going to be pure velveeta, undiluted fake cheese…but I still want to see it.
The octopus had better win, or I’ll be deeply offended, and will have to picket the theater.
The season of comic book movies is off to a very poor start. I went off to see Wolverine with low expectations — I read Ebert’s review ahead of time — but even so, it failed to rise even to the basement of my presumption.
The problem was that comic book movies should be fun, and they should explore the unique and peculiar character at the center. Think about Spiderman, with the kid discovering his superpowers and bouncing off of walls trying them out, or Iron Man and its playboy tycoon finding out that he has a conscience. You set aside the silliness of the premise to enjoy the thrill of the characters, and also revel by proxy in the superhero. It’s not deep stuff, and it’s why these movies are popular escapist events.
Wolverine doesn’t get it. It answers nothing about the character and simply plods through a linear series of events.
Spoilers below, if a movie that is nothing but kill-kill-kill, then kill big bad guy, can have spoilers.
There’s a funny Cat and Girl comic that makes fun of our success as atheists, saying that we’ve gone mainstream. Read it, I got a chuckle…but one of the panels listing factors in our loss of indie cred says, “We have our own Jonas Brothers.” Now I’m stuck. I can’t figure out who our equivalent would be.
In case you don’t know, the Jonas Brothers are a band that plays a kind of Christian pop — they’re on the Disney Channel and appeal to prepubescent girls like David Cassidy did to my generation, only they are even more wholesome and extremely overt in their religiosity.
I’m pondering this, and can’t even imagine a proudly atheist band that plays bubblegum for kiddies, or has a show that sucks in adolescent eyeballs quite like the Jonas Brothers do. Maybe the cartoon is wrong. Maybe we aren’t quite that mainstream yet. Or maybe I’m just so out of it I’ve missed the latest godless sensation.
I’d say that’s pretty groovy, but then they’d kick me out of the hep cats club, wouldn’t they?
I’ve received a few queries about the end of the Battlestar Galactica series, and I can’t offer an opinion — I didn’t watch it. Since there seems to be enough fans here, though, I’ll turn you loose on it. Great? Sucked? Eh?
I didn’t watch it because I haven’t watched much of the series at all. There are a couple of reasons: 1) I’m old enough to remember the original BSG, and was not at all interested (I know, it’s radically different, but I didn’t know that at the beginning); 2) it’s on the Sci-Fi Channel, which has become the label of instant recognition for cheesy formulaic crap; 3) I did see a few episodes early in the run, and was turned off by the god-happy nonsense in those few shows — again, I heard that they went off in some interesting directions after that, but the damage was done to my impression, and 4) it’s the kind of series that demands long investment in the full story, and I’ve never had the time to catch up with it all. I may grab the DVD of the whole series at some point, just to give it the attention so many people tell me it deserves.
I hope these guys win a Grammy, because this rap is the bomb.
It’s even better than that Narwhal song.
We made the 45 mile drive to distant Alexandria to see Watchmen this afternoon. On the way there, I learned that neither Skatje nor Collin had ever even tried to read the graphic novel, so I almost slammed on the brakes and turned around to make them sit down and read it before I’d take them — but my own fanboi nature prevented me from putting off the movie any longer, so I took them anyway. The kids have been sternly instructed now that we’re home that they’re required to read it. Good thing I kept going, too — it was excellent. Where Ironman was last summer’s exhilarating carnival ride of a superhero movie, this one is the grim and intellectual anti-superhero movie of this year. Ten tentacles up!
It is true that the movie did remove the giant space squid from the ending, but — and this is rather heretical for me to say — this ending was better, and made the story even stronger. I was imp…
Wait, what’s that noise?
There’s mad-eyed bearded man pounding on my window! It’s…it’s…Alan Moore! How did he know what I was writing? I haven’t even posted it yet!
He’s broken in! He’s com…NOOOOOOOOOOO! <SQEEEEEEE> -fzzztzzzt- <crackle> *click*
I am hoping to go see Watchmen this weekend, but I have been informed that there is something seriously wrong with it.
Spoiler below the fold.
Long timers here may recall that I mentioned this cool video by Nina Paley called Sita Sings the Blues several years ago. At that time, all that was available were some short but very pretty clips.
Good news! Sita Sings the Blues is done, and available on the web. It’s Saturday evening — go ahead, set aside an hour and a half to watch it. How often do you run across Hindu myths animated and set to the 1920’s jazz?
Speaking of Hindu myths, have you ever read any of their creation stories? Here’s one version:
Before time began there was no heaven, no earth and no space between. A vast dark ocean washed upon the shores of nothingness and licked the edges of night. A giant cobra floated on the waters. Asleep within its endless coils lay the Lord Vishnu. He was watched over by the mighty serpent. Everything was so peaceful and silent that Vishnu slept undisturbed by dreams or motion.
From the depths a humming sound began to tremble, Om. It grew and spread, filling the emptiness and throbbing with energy. The night had ended. Vishnu awoke. As the dawn began to break, from Vishnu’s navel grew a magnificent lotus flower. In the middle of the blossom sat Vishnu’s servant, Brahma. He awaited the Lord’s command.Vishnu spoke to his servant: ‘It is time to begin.’ Brahma bowed. Vishnu commanded: ‘Create the world.’
It’s silly and magical, but it’s also beautiful. We hear that awful tinny poetry of Genesis so often that I think it’s worth looking around at other cultures just to see how petty and third-rate the Western bible is. Not that I want anyone believing in Vishnu and the lotus growing out of his navel, but at least it’s much more lovely and imaginative than the repetitive nonsense we’re used to.
