tooth soup

photo credit: Pulpolux !!!

I managed to get myself up at 365tomorrows.com with my story ‘Outback’, it’s moved on to the archives since then, as a new story is put up there every single day, but you can still find it here. I would highly recommend you add the RSS feed to whichever program you’re into (for the record, I’m using Sage at the moment) and check out the stories that get published there. They’re all flash fiction, so by necessity they are less than six-hundred words, meaning your ADHD won’t get in the way of enjoying a good tale or four. This is actually really encouraging for me, unlike my being featured on the front page at Humblevoice, which confuses the heck out of me–I took down everything I had up there of mine, bar a couple of really, and I mean really, torrid pieces (three in total) that I couldn’t be bothered with. They must be reaching.

This weekend just past was pretty good, Louise and a few of her friends and I went and saw Juno at the outdoor cinemas at Kings Park. It was good, the movie that is, but I felt that some of the exchanges between Juno and the guy out of Arrested Development were a bit forced. Normally a bit of forced acting isn’t so bad, but when the exchanges are on indie/pop culture it really jars for me, vis:

Arrested Development guy: “I think blah-old-obscure-band is the best!”

Juno: “No way, that’s, like, totally wrong, other-blah-random-band are so much better!”

Arrested Development Guy: “Oh man, you’re hip and cool for a young person, I’m going to show you old horror movies that coincidentally appeal to your tastes, then confess my problems to you.”

Juno: “Awesome! I’m pregnant throughout this exchange! Hormones! Immaturity, etc.!”

Okay, okay, I’ll stop being so judgmental. It was an enjoyable movie; Ellen Page is a very small, cute fox, Michael Cera is as funny in this as he was in Superbad and Arrested Development, and the rest of the cast make up a very good support. The anti-abortion message was done a bit too heavy handedly, I don’t expect that the movie would have done half as well if it had featured a pro-abortion message, but then the story would have been totally different if that had been the case. Anyway, I did enjoy it, just not as much as others had built it up to.

Afterwards we went out to The Amplifier, which is usually a pretty good experience. This time I wasn’t really into it though; I’m not big on crowds at the best of times, and this time I tuned out. It’s difficult to explain how I feel during these little freakouts; it’s a combination of two waves of apathy and stark terror that crash together and freeze me solid with hands in pockets. I feel like it’s impossible for me to move, or talk to anyone, and dancing is completely out of the question. Which, when you are on a dance floor, is practically fatal. Even if I can hear someone perfectly, I pretend that I can’t (sorry Louise) and sort of stand there people watching, but not really, more just making sure I don’t stare at one direction for more than about two-point-five seconds, while inside my head I am convinced that everyone is looking at me and striking me from their list of people that are at all worthwhile (which usually doesn’t bother me–I don’t know why I suddenly give a shit what people think of me on stepping through the doorway of a club, but that’s a negligible irrationality on top of everything else). After about ten minutes I feel like walking out the door and driving for a long time in one direction with all the windows down. On this particular occasion I was able to contain myself for a forty minutes or so, which is pretty much an all-time record. By that time I was able to escape by offering to get the car so Louise wouldn’t have to walk all the way. When I left the club, I was seriously considering getting her car and driving away (again, sorry Louise), as I also get very down about ruining her night when I do this (which she assures me is stupid, and it is, but still). Thankfully I had calmed down a bit during the walk and I re-entered to grab her and run. I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t hit clubs often enough for it to be a huge problem; I’m fine in pretty much any pub. But when it does happen it wipes me out for a day or so. And it rolls on to just about every insecurity I might have and blows them up in my head once more. Not a pretty state to be in. But enough of that, and onto different, cooler things.

There’s a few sample screenshots up at the The Watchmen RSS feed/blog thing, illustrating most of the characters (though Dr. Manhattan is absent, which suggests to me he’ll be largely CG’d) and it seems like they’ve done at least that right so far. It’s finished, now we just have to wait a year until it’s released in cinemas (also likely because there’ll be a huge amount of CG’ing to be done) to see whether or not they’ve completely fucked it up. Zak and I predict that a lot of stuff will be cut, including most of the sub-plot about the making of the alien, and the comic that the little black kid reads at the newsstand. Only time will tell, however.

No related posts.