Splatterday. Flist. DVDs. Books. Michael Moore. Shill O'Reilly.
OK, time to post. Feels like an age since I've really said anything much.
I've deleted ten people whose LJs seem abandoned and/or who never but never comment on my LJ. There are a few others I nearly deleted because they very rarely comment either. And it's not that people have to *look at me! look at me!* at all. It's just that it gives me the impression they don't bother reading, and I just think, well, what's the point? And there's probably an LJ or two I'd rather not bother wading through myself (why does that feel so sinful to admit!?) but I've kept them on because I don't want to hurt their feelings. (Weak!) And no, it's almost certainly not *you*! I don't think they even read mine. Ever. And besides which, I've never wanted a particularly long friends list. Just a quality one. I think I'll cut a few more soon. Let me know if you wanna stay. And also, now's a really good time to cut me if you're sick of my LJ. I'll try not to cry.
Well, it's a quiet, chilly evening chez nous tonight. My throat's sore, helped in no small measure by having the heater on (low), and my back's really cold so immediately after this post I'm going to put a singlet on under my clothes. It's important that you know these things. Not sure why.
Last night was DVD night. We hired Fahrenheit 911, September, and Romulus, My Father. I waited a long time to see Fahrenheit 911, but now seemed like a better time than any other, as serendipity would have it, because I've got 9/11 on my mind a lot, and I'm currently reading the salon.com book of post-9/11 articles, Afterwords: Stories and Reports From 9/11 and Beyond and The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation by Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colon. I'm also reading Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight and Nicholas Gurewitch's book of genius comic strips, The Perry Bible Fellowship: The Trial of Colonel Sweeto and Other Stories. And I'm trying to read Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion at the same time but, really, something's gotta give, and that one deserves my full concentration which, as ever, is sorely lacking at the moment.
I heartily recommend Romulus, My Father. That's a rottentomatoes.com review there but there's no accounting for taste - it scored pretty poorly - but do like I do. Ignore reviews. They're so hit-and-miss as to be virtually arbitrary. The acting and cinematography were brilliant, and it has a gentle, beautiful colour palette. I was really impressed by how well Franka Potente got her German/Australian accent down, and it wasn't just Australian - it was specifically Victorian, which I can't even do myself! Eric Bana's great in it, and you'll probably think the little boy is excellent but he kind of irritated me after a while. But I'm a harsh judge; he was excellent.
I'm not gonna bother going into why I appreciate Michael Moore so much, and why I wish he wouldn't emotionally manipulate the audience, especially when he hardly needs to as it is, but I will say that he does so much more good than ever he does ill, and it frustrates me when people nitpick about him so much. (Here's the rottentomatoes.com review for Fahrenheit 911.) I don't even like it when people dissect Morgan Spurlock's every motivation, but Michael Moore? Come on! Besides all of which, he was great in interview with Shill O'Reilly. (Part 2 here.)
But then, how difficult is it to own Bill O'Reilly's arse? Even a pretend character can humiliate him! (And beautifully too.) But possibly the best? Phil Fucking Donahue, man! Or Bill himself. And if you're enjoying yourself, watch him get pounded by David Letterman while we're at it. (Part 2 here.) Especially all you Aussies, who may not have seen this clown in action before. He's a charmer, isn't he? He even makes someone like Mike Munro look like a capable 'journalist', which practically makes him a magician as well.
I've deleted ten people whose LJs seem abandoned and/or who never but never comment on my LJ. There are a few others I nearly deleted because they very rarely comment either. And it's not that people have to *look at me! look at me!* at all. It's just that it gives me the impression they don't bother reading, and I just think, well, what's the point? And there's probably an LJ or two I'd rather not bother wading through myself (why does that feel so sinful to admit!?) but I've kept them on because I don't want to hurt their feelings. (Weak!) And no, it's almost certainly not *you*! I don't think they even read mine. Ever. And besides which, I've never wanted a particularly long friends list. Just a quality one. I think I'll cut a few more soon. Let me know if you wanna stay. And also, now's a really good time to cut me if you're sick of my LJ. I'll try not to cry.
Well, it's a quiet, chilly evening chez nous tonight. My throat's sore, helped in no small measure by having the heater on (low), and my back's really cold so immediately after this post I'm going to put a singlet on under my clothes. It's important that you know these things. Not sure why.
Last night was DVD night. We hired Fahrenheit 911, September, and Romulus, My Father. I waited a long time to see Fahrenheit 911, but now seemed like a better time than any other, as serendipity would have it, because I've got 9/11 on my mind a lot, and I'm currently reading the salon.com book of post-9/11 articles, Afterwords: Stories and Reports From 9/11 and Beyond and The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation by Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colon. I'm also reading Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight and Nicholas Gurewitch's book of genius comic strips, The Perry Bible Fellowship: The Trial of Colonel Sweeto and Other Stories. And I'm trying to read Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion at the same time but, really, something's gotta give, and that one deserves my full concentration which, as ever, is sorely lacking at the moment.
I heartily recommend Romulus, My Father. That's a rottentomatoes.com review there but there's no accounting for taste - it scored pretty poorly - but do like I do. Ignore reviews. They're so hit-and-miss as to be virtually arbitrary. The acting and cinematography were brilliant, and it has a gentle, beautiful colour palette. I was really impressed by how well Franka Potente got her German/Australian accent down, and it wasn't just Australian - it was specifically Victorian, which I can't even do myself! Eric Bana's great in it, and you'll probably think the little boy is excellent but he kind of irritated me after a while. But I'm a harsh judge; he was excellent.
I'm not gonna bother going into why I appreciate Michael Moore so much, and why I wish he wouldn't emotionally manipulate the audience, especially when he hardly needs to as it is, but I will say that he does so much more good than ever he does ill, and it frustrates me when people nitpick about him so much. (Here's the rottentomatoes.com review for Fahrenheit 911.) I don't even like it when people dissect Morgan Spurlock's every motivation, but Michael Moore? Come on! Besides all of which, he was great in interview with Shill O'Reilly. (Part 2 here.)
But then, how difficult is it to own Bill O'Reilly's arse? Even a pretend character can humiliate him! (And beautifully too.) But possibly the best? Phil Fucking Donahue, man! Or Bill himself. And if you're enjoying yourself, watch him get pounded by David Letterman while we're at it. (Part 2 here.) Especially all you Aussies, who may not have seen this clown in action before. He's a charmer, isn't he? He even makes someone like Mike Munro look like a capable 'journalist', which practically makes him a magician as well.