Today is a day
So, yes. The Dark Knight? Two-and-a-half-hour continual geekgasm. I thought "This is awesome" an average of once every five minutes. I talked out loud in the theater (which I almost never do, especially when going by myself), mostly things like "HOLY CRAP!" and "OH MAN!" and "SAVE HIM, BATMAN, SAVE HIM". I laughed and choked and gasped in shock (all three in equal amounts). The Joker? Totally, totally scary. The movie was just on the edge of How Dark You Can Go without losing me completely--there were moments when I felt literally nauseated. Such a bleak world, that Gotham is, with so few rays of hope.
I also thought, more than once, that this is a Batman, and a Batman universe, who really, really needs a Robin. Archetypically, Robin is the shaft of light in the dank dungeon, the sweet note in the minor-key symphony, the fulcrum on Batman's lever. (And of course, I love Robin unreasonably--that character is what drew me into the Batman fandom back when I was sixteen or so.) I think the Tim Drake kind of Robin would work in this new movie-verse, too, though I'm not sure a Dick Grayson Robin would work. A circus acrobat? Ward of a billionaire? Just a little too sixties to fly in this gray new world. But a Tim Drake who figures out who Batman is and follows him back home and says, "Hey, you need help and I want to help you," and who won't give no matter what, who is just as aggressive and driven and ninja-freak-psychotic as Bruce himself, only a little more optimistic (as well as younger and cuter)? Yeah, that would fit. They could even call him Dick Grayson if they wanted--I would know that it was really Tim.
Oh, and the trailer for the Watchmen movie? Quality stuff.
The T on this keyboard is sticking. So annoying.
I overdrew at the bank. I haven't done that for awhile. So frustrating. And my next paycheck will have to be for rent, so I don't know how I'm going to pay my school loan this month, so I'm a little scared. Oh well. My credit score can't really get any worse.
Hulu.com has episodes of the A-Team. I have just relived a part of my childhood. The cheesy part. I ain't getting on no plane, Hannibal!
The song from Dr. Horrible that goes "I cannot believe my eyes" is stuck in my head right now. I'm so sad that it's disappearing from the internet tonight. I haven't had time to memorize the songs yet!
It's been a week now since I got my ratties, and they are quite tame. Wallace is totally fearless with me now, which is good. Too young to be a good cuddler, though. He protests and scampers off. Oh well, that's why I have mice. Sweet, soft little mice who fall asleep in my hand. Best pets in the world.
And last night I discovered a drawback of the current arrangement, with me on the couch and the cage open beside me, the ratties free to run where they will. The problem? Just because you fall asleep on the couch doesn't mean that the little darlings will respect your rest. Around one o'clock I woke up, fuzzily, still half-dreaming, to the realization that OMG Wallace is in my UNDERWEAR he must have thought it looked like a good little place to explore rat paws are scampering on my bare BUTT this isn't a good place to nap those are my UNDERWEAR. And I firmly grasped the rattie by the middle and removed him. Then I went to my proper bed.
Note that this is how calm my personality is--that waking in the middle of the night with a RAT IN MY UNDERWEAR led to no yelling or gasping or violent movements or freak-outs or palpitations. But watching The Dark Knight did. This should be an indication of what kind of movie it is. Choose your companions accordingly.
I also thought, more than once, that this is a Batman, and a Batman universe, who really, really needs a Robin. Archetypically, Robin is the shaft of light in the dank dungeon, the sweet note in the minor-key symphony, the fulcrum on Batman's lever. (And of course, I love Robin unreasonably--that character is what drew me into the Batman fandom back when I was sixteen or so.) I think the Tim Drake kind of Robin would work in this new movie-verse, too, though I'm not sure a Dick Grayson Robin would work. A circus acrobat? Ward of a billionaire? Just a little too sixties to fly in this gray new world. But a Tim Drake who figures out who Batman is and follows him back home and says, "Hey, you need help and I want to help you," and who won't give no matter what, who is just as aggressive and driven and ninja-freak-psychotic as Bruce himself, only a little more optimistic (as well as younger and cuter)? Yeah, that would fit. They could even call him Dick Grayson if they wanted--I would know that it was really Tim.
Oh, and the trailer for the Watchmen movie? Quality stuff.
The T on this keyboard is sticking. So annoying.
I overdrew at the bank. I haven't done that for awhile. So frustrating. And my next paycheck will have to be for rent, so I don't know how I'm going to pay my school loan this month, so I'm a little scared. Oh well. My credit score can't really get any worse.
Hulu.com has episodes of the A-Team. I have just relived a part of my childhood. The cheesy part. I ain't getting on no plane, Hannibal!
The song from Dr. Horrible that goes "I cannot believe my eyes" is stuck in my head right now. I'm so sad that it's disappearing from the internet tonight. I haven't had time to memorize the songs yet!
It's been a week now since I got my ratties, and they are quite tame. Wallace is totally fearless with me now, which is good. Too young to be a good cuddler, though. He protests and scampers off. Oh well, that's why I have mice. Sweet, soft little mice who fall asleep in my hand. Best pets in the world.
And last night I discovered a drawback of the current arrangement, with me on the couch and the cage open beside me, the ratties free to run where they will. The problem? Just because you fall asleep on the couch doesn't mean that the little darlings will respect your rest. Around one o'clock I woke up, fuzzily, still half-dreaming, to the realization that OMG Wallace is in my UNDERWEAR he must have thought it looked like a good little place to explore rat paws are scampering on my bare BUTT this isn't a good place to nap those are my UNDERWEAR. And I firmly grasped the rattie by the middle and removed him. Then I went to my proper bed.
Note that this is how calm my personality is--that waking in the middle of the night with a RAT IN MY UNDERWEAR led to no yelling or gasping or violent movements or freak-outs or palpitations. But watching The Dark Knight did. This should be an indication of what kind of movie it is. Choose your companions accordingly.