"I'm Mary Poppins, y'all."
I've been awake since 7:26 a.m. This has become normal. Fuck me if I know what to do with all that morning. Anyway, it's presently sunny and a scorching 57˚F here in Providence, heading for a sweltering high of 59˚F. Meanwhile, it's 76˚F in Birmingham, and the high will be 88˚F. Once upon a time, years back, winter was the season that I feared, but now cold spring is my enemy. I get through winter far better these days than I deal with March and April and May and, for that matter, June. Thank you, Rhode Island.
It has now been one week since we left Leeds.
There really is nothing much worth mentioning about yesterday. It was a bad day. It was a write off.
Someone on Facebook yesterday declared I could "have fun" writing another vampire novel. Setting aside the idiocy of anyone writing another vampire novel, I do not write "for fun." Which is fortunate, as I do not ever "have fun" writing. I honestly have trouble imagining that anyone enjoys writing, but I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. Humans are capable of enjoying almost any damn thing. If there are people who derive sexual gratification from being shat on, there are surely people who enjoy writing.
On Tuesday we saw James Gunn's Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which I enjoyed even more than the first film. We also saw the trailer for Ridley Scott's Alien: Covenant, the first time I'd seen it on the big screen. I'll go see it, sure, and I may even enjoy it, but it's not the film I was hoping would follow Prometheus. Not the film that Scott intended to follow Prometheus before he made the mistake of listening to a lot of bullshit criticism. Aliens: Covenant will likely be little more than rehashed elements of the first four Alien films, cobbled together with snazzy new movie gimmickry. It will be pretty, and fun, and scary, and hollow, and pointless. Scott is a far better director than a film like Aliens: Covenant. This is what often comes of listening to our detractors, listening to people who "don't get it" and never will. Which is why I don't. Anyway, the loss of Alien: Paradise Lost (originally to be simply Paradise) for just another tired retread of the rampaging space monster story, that's our loss. And Scott's. We listen to the critics at the risk of our very souls.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
11:08 a.m.
It has now been one week since we left Leeds.
There really is nothing much worth mentioning about yesterday. It was a bad day. It was a write off.
Someone on Facebook yesterday declared I could "have fun" writing another vampire novel. Setting aside the idiocy of anyone writing another vampire novel, I do not write "for fun." Which is fortunate, as I do not ever "have fun" writing. I honestly have trouble imagining that anyone enjoys writing, but I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. Humans are capable of enjoying almost any damn thing. If there are people who derive sexual gratification from being shat on, there are surely people who enjoy writing.
On Tuesday we saw James Gunn's Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which I enjoyed even more than the first film. We also saw the trailer for Ridley Scott's Alien: Covenant, the first time I'd seen it on the big screen. I'll go see it, sure, and I may even enjoy it, but it's not the film I was hoping would follow Prometheus. Not the film that Scott intended to follow Prometheus before he made the mistake of listening to a lot of bullshit criticism. Aliens: Covenant will likely be little more than rehashed elements of the first four Alien films, cobbled together with snazzy new movie gimmickry. It will be pretty, and fun, and scary, and hollow, and pointless. Scott is a far better director than a film like Aliens: Covenant. This is what often comes of listening to our detractors, listening to people who "don't get it" and never will. Which is why I don't. Anyway, the loss of Alien: Paradise Lost (originally to be simply Paradise) for just another tired retread of the rampaging space monster story, that's our loss. And Scott's. We listen to the critics at the risk of our very souls.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
11:08 a.m.