I wish I could paint myself when I get like this
A canvas so black as to draw the night's envy
Prick'd with holes not of starlight
but stabbed by my unbottled fury
A whirlwind full of destruction and bluster
to which hurricanse strive to keep up
My mind, a naked blade
and all the world flesh
Some disassembly required
I haven't seen Return of the King. I didn't wait on a line to see all three movies at once, nor did I sleep at the theater to see the movie open. You know what? It'll still be there in a few weeks, if I actually feel like seeing it.
I was originally going to title this post "Since it's all you fucking idiots can seem to talk about" but later reconsidered, as some of my readers are new to my particular style of hatred for middle-America's arrogant solipsism and may be less forgiving. So I will just say, "Give me a fucking break, it's a movie* for Christsakes".
* This is short for "moving picture", which is the equivalent of "something shiny" (see my icon? yeah, kinda hard to ignore, eh?) from the standpoint of neuropsychological attention researchers.
Speaking of Christ, I've been doing some reading on the dude, and I definitely dig him. I'm not sure I like how Saul capitalized on his sacrifice and I sure as hell don't believe in a big, invisible mega-dude in the sky. But, even though it's not techinically til April: Happy birthday, Jesus. You were a man before your time, and before ours, for that matter. Keep thinking the big thoughts and we will keep giving you the big ups. Until the next shiny moving thing comes along.
You fucking assholes.