1969 in the sunshine
I recently ordered "Sunshine" on demand, and I want 90 minutes of my life back. The movie is basically an episode of "The Real World" in space, in which several epicene 24-year-olds prance around a metallic soundstage until they are all felled tragically in the prime of youth. Ostensibly on a mission to revive the prematurely dying sun (scientists' predictions having been off by a few billion years), the kids occupy themselves with petty bickering, romantic intrigue, and the meticulous cultivation of the indie bedhead look. All goes awry when the navigation guy messes up the ship's flight trajectory: "There were so many numbers and charts in my head, I got confused! I fucked up, okay? I fucked up!" That's what happens when you send Starfleet Academy's C students on a mission to save mankind. A series of fatal mishaps ensue until the remaining crew members are picked off by some kind of religious fundamentalist melanoma monster. So, five dollars for an object lesson in the perils of terrorism and UV radiation.
Other than that, things are going pretty well. For Valentine's day Ana (my gff, as I refer to her) and I are going to the Japan Society to see a screening of early Japanese animation, which should be cool. I recently completed a poetry writing workshop, and on tuesday we're having a reading of our work at an eccentric little bookstore in Brooklyn (with an entire Utopia section, no less.) I'm preparing to go to grad school for creative writing: welcome to starvation! I still have problems with discipline regarding my work habits, and as a result I waste enormous amounts of time and become frustrated and pissed off with myself. I need to grow a third foot for the specific purpose of kicking my own ass.
"Even if the Dude was a lazy man, and he certainly was that..."
Other than that, things are going pretty well. For Valentine's day Ana (my gff, as I refer to her) and I are going to the Japan Society to see a screening of early Japanese animation, which should be cool. I recently completed a poetry writing workshop, and on tuesday we're having a reading of our work at an eccentric little bookstore in Brooklyn (with an entire Utopia section, no less.) I'm preparing to go to grad school for creative writing: welcome to starvation! I still have problems with discipline regarding my work habits, and as a result I waste enormous amounts of time and become frustrated and pissed off with myself. I need to grow a third foot for the specific purpose of kicking my own ass.
"Even if the Dude was a lazy man, and he certainly was that..."