Dreams and Movies
While my life has been generally leeched of all inspiration and energy lately, leading me to do crazy things like bake a cake and eat it all inside a week, there have been some interesting highlights.
For one, I drew and fully colored a picture of Fetchenhare with a sheep on the back of a paper place mat yesterday at work. I wonder if it'll still be there today. (I doubt it.) It did make the time go by quicker, though. I plan on drawing more of the next strip later today.
For two, while I complain of never having interesting, epic dreams, or cool dreams like my friends have where they interact with their own characters or control what happens, I have been having longer, more involved dreams lately, and I remember more of them than most of my dreams. Perhaps my brain is telling me it's REALLY bored working at Bob Evans.
Two nights ago, I awoke from a dream about being driven around in a van filled with people my own age. None that I knew (that I recall). The driver was some man trying to help us all and get us somewhere safer. Oh, and the van was filled with venomous snakes, which had bitten people, but were calm now. It wasn't Snake on a Plane level. We were all trying to keep still and quiet so no one would disturb the snakes. (They were all draped around us and in our laps and stuff. Crazy.) Halfway through the dream, we stopped to pick up more people. It was another man with a bunch of younger kids, and we all knew this man was evil or a bastard or something, so we hated having to take him along, but we needed to get all the kids he had with him. The knew guy opened up the back of the van, which for some reason was more of a trunk, with no windows or seats or anything, and made all the kids cram themselves inside. Then he got in the van with the rest of us. We all glared but didn't say anything. I think he said something to me, but then I moved back too abruptly, and a really small, thin snake whipped out of nowhere and bit me in the weenus (the fleshy bit between my thumb and forefinger). I freaked out a moment, and then the evil guy we didn't like steps foreward, grabs my hand, and sqeezes out the venom so that it dripped clear onto the floor. (Yeah, cuz squeezing works.) And we were all silent and didn't know what to think about the evil bastard who was supposed to be an evil bastard but had just saved my life. And then he gave me that silent look, the way someone would if this had just happened in a movie, giving nothing away so that the audience would still be wondering over his motives. Then I woke up.
And then this morning, while I remember fewer details, I still had quite the adventure. It started out with me looking for a certain famous person's grave in a fancy, jam-packed cemetery. I'd found it, all by my self, with the right name and everything, and I proudly went back to tell the other people looking for it that I'd found it. They all followed me back to it, and when we got there, another guy was waiting for us. He said something like, "Gee, if you'd kept looking there, you would never have found it," meaning that the grave I'd found was wrong. In a very Da Vinci Code way, it turned out that the real tomb was off to one side, down this craggy stone staircase into the hillside. On the stone steps was written some kind poetry, from some famous poem written by the guy whose tomb we were looking for. One of those "obvious, once you're looking for it" deals. So the troup of us, about six people my age, I think, go traipsing down into this "tomb". The details start getting fuzzy here, but I know that it turned out that the space had been broken into and used has someone's home or hideout. They'd section off rooms and painted messages on the wall, I think, and were clearly obsessed with some kind of code or cult message. I followed the rooms further than the others, and realized that there was a door that opened up into the graveyard path right next to where we'd followed the steps down. I could see the steps from the door window. I commented on this, like it was some fantastic discovery, in a carrying voice, and then (again, very movie-like) a voice said "Very good" or something, and the resident of the place stepped out of the shadows. I'm thinking I enjoy movies too much...
Nah.
So the guy appears dramatically and says something like "Watch your step. You've been nearly on top of it this whole time." Something to call attention to the floor next to me, where a trap door with old yellow paint on it was being pushed up from below, as if something large was trying to escape from underneath it. I fled the room, and I think the whateveritwas broke out and followed me. The rest is REALLY fuzzy, but I believe the others started running out again, and somehow, I end up hanging from some railing off a piece of scaffolding - outside, and no I don't know how that worked - trying to fight off the bad guy who was squatting in the "tomb". I was hanging from one arm while he taunted me and swiped at me, and I have no clue what happened with the whateveritwas from under the trap door. I never saw it. I was just starting to hold my body all straight and poised like a gymnast while I dangled, like I was about to do something with it...
...when the lawn people arrived outside my window with their giant industrial rider lawnmowers, their weedeaters, their yakking. So no more dream. If I was about to be a hero, I'll never know.
Also, I've splurged and bought myself a couple movies recently. The 2-disc collector's set of Coraline, which I watched in 2-D and remembered how much I loved it. I looked carefully for Henry Sellick's face on the dollar bill in the beginning (found it) and then Jack Skellington's face in the cracked egg while the Other Mother was fixing breakfast (never saw it). Loved the cat. Revelled in the fact that Ian McShane was Bobinsky (hadn't realized that before). And I believe that the near-the-end scene when the Other Mother is chasing Coraline back through the tunnel was FAR more hectic and horrifying in 3-D. Also: animated paper mice FTW.
Also bought Watchmen. Other than the sex scene, one of the greatest movies ever. I finally really understood some of the deeper themes, and how they meshed. (You watch it or read it once and you think you've got it, but you get more out of a second or third view, no question.) I really put together the recurring smiley face theme with the Comedian's ideals and with the entire plot. In the end, at least before Rorschach's journal comes back into play, all of humanity was tricked by Veidt. The entire plot was one, absolutely gigantic practical joke. Now maybe I'm slow, and you all got that already, but perhaps I was too distracted by Rorschach's movie awesomeness. And also, again, other than the sex scene, I do believe that the movie improved upon the book. It was staggering to think that Veidt destroyed about a dozen cities instead of just New York, as in the book, but I believe it added to the impact. The book took up chapters with extranneous comic-book material, the pirate story and all that horror, to impress upon us the imagination behind it that was borrowed to create the huge tentacle monster. It was trying to convice us that a mind that could come up with those constant horrors could create something capable of horrifying New York. But the movie solution was neater, and more believable, I think. I approve.
And all I can say for all those other movie adaptations out there (Harry fucking Potter...) is that IF WATCHMEN CAN DO IT, AND STAR TREK CAN DO IT, THERE IS NO REASON YOU CAN'T. These two are proof that freakin' awesome movies can be made while remaining incredibly faithful to the canon. THERE IS NO EXCUSE in my mind FOR ALL THE ADLIBBING going on in those other films.
Gah, I'm still sore over the Half-Blood Prince. That was NOT the Half-Blood Prince. I don't even think it was a good movie. It was boring as hell. I believe that the director(s) favors certain actors and lets them do all the talking, even when other people had those parts in the books. I also firmly believe that the director(s), since the beginning of the movie franchise, is(are) convinced that Americans are complete idiots who can't understand a British accent or plot if spoken quickly, and therefore everything was super super summarized and spoken as slowly as possible. Seriously. Bellatrix and Snape spoke at a SNAIL'S PACE. Did no one else pick up on that?
Alright. I'm off to draw No-Show Hero or maybe my still life. (Ick.)
Ciao.
For one, I drew and fully colored a picture of Fetchenhare with a sheep on the back of a paper place mat yesterday at work. I wonder if it'll still be there today. (I doubt it.) It did make the time go by quicker, though. I plan on drawing more of the next strip later today.
For two, while I complain of never having interesting, epic dreams, or cool dreams like my friends have where they interact with their own characters or control what happens, I have been having longer, more involved dreams lately, and I remember more of them than most of my dreams. Perhaps my brain is telling me it's REALLY bored working at Bob Evans.
Two nights ago, I awoke from a dream about being driven around in a van filled with people my own age. None that I knew (that I recall). The driver was some man trying to help us all and get us somewhere safer. Oh, and the van was filled with venomous snakes, which had bitten people, but were calm now. It wasn't Snake on a Plane level. We were all trying to keep still and quiet so no one would disturb the snakes. (They were all draped around us and in our laps and stuff. Crazy.) Halfway through the dream, we stopped to pick up more people. It was another man with a bunch of younger kids, and we all knew this man was evil or a bastard or something, so we hated having to take him along, but we needed to get all the kids he had with him. The knew guy opened up the back of the van, which for some reason was more of a trunk, with no windows or seats or anything, and made all the kids cram themselves inside. Then he got in the van with the rest of us. We all glared but didn't say anything. I think he said something to me, but then I moved back too abruptly, and a really small, thin snake whipped out of nowhere and bit me in the weenus (the fleshy bit between my thumb and forefinger). I freaked out a moment, and then the evil guy we didn't like steps foreward, grabs my hand, and sqeezes out the venom so that it dripped clear onto the floor. (Yeah, cuz squeezing works.) And we were all silent and didn't know what to think about the evil bastard who was supposed to be an evil bastard but had just saved my life. And then he gave me that silent look, the way someone would if this had just happened in a movie, giving nothing away so that the audience would still be wondering over his motives. Then I woke up.
And then this morning, while I remember fewer details, I still had quite the adventure. It started out with me looking for a certain famous person's grave in a fancy, jam-packed cemetery. I'd found it, all by my self, with the right name and everything, and I proudly went back to tell the other people looking for it that I'd found it. They all followed me back to it, and when we got there, another guy was waiting for us. He said something like, "Gee, if you'd kept looking there, you would never have found it," meaning that the grave I'd found was wrong. In a very Da Vinci Code way, it turned out that the real tomb was off to one side, down this craggy stone staircase into the hillside. On the stone steps was written some kind poetry, from some famous poem written by the guy whose tomb we were looking for. One of those "obvious, once you're looking for it" deals. So the troup of us, about six people my age, I think, go traipsing down into this "tomb". The details start getting fuzzy here, but I know that it turned out that the space had been broken into and used has someone's home or hideout. They'd section off rooms and painted messages on the wall, I think, and were clearly obsessed with some kind of code or cult message. I followed the rooms further than the others, and realized that there was a door that opened up into the graveyard path right next to where we'd followed the steps down. I could see the steps from the door window. I commented on this, like it was some fantastic discovery, in a carrying voice, and then (again, very movie-like) a voice said "Very good" or something, and the resident of the place stepped out of the shadows. I'm thinking I enjoy movies too much...
Nah.
So the guy appears dramatically and says something like "Watch your step. You've been nearly on top of it this whole time." Something to call attention to the floor next to me, where a trap door with old yellow paint on it was being pushed up from below, as if something large was trying to escape from underneath it. I fled the room, and I think the whateveritwas broke out and followed me. The rest is REALLY fuzzy, but I believe the others started running out again, and somehow, I end up hanging from some railing off a piece of scaffolding - outside, and no I don't know how that worked - trying to fight off the bad guy who was squatting in the "tomb". I was hanging from one arm while he taunted me and swiped at me, and I have no clue what happened with the whateveritwas from under the trap door. I never saw it. I was just starting to hold my body all straight and poised like a gymnast while I dangled, like I was about to do something with it...
...when the lawn people arrived outside my window with their giant industrial rider lawnmowers, their weedeaters, their yakking. So no more dream. If I was about to be a hero, I'll never know.
Also, I've splurged and bought myself a couple movies recently. The 2-disc collector's set of Coraline, which I watched in 2-D and remembered how much I loved it. I looked carefully for Henry Sellick's face on the dollar bill in the beginning (found it) and then Jack Skellington's face in the cracked egg while the Other Mother was fixing breakfast (never saw it). Loved the cat. Revelled in the fact that Ian McShane was Bobinsky (hadn't realized that before). And I believe that the near-the-end scene when the Other Mother is chasing Coraline back through the tunnel was FAR more hectic and horrifying in 3-D. Also: animated paper mice FTW.
Also bought Watchmen. Other than the sex scene, one of the greatest movies ever. I finally really understood some of the deeper themes, and how they meshed. (You watch it or read it once and you think you've got it, but you get more out of a second or third view, no question.) I really put together the recurring smiley face theme with the Comedian's ideals and with the entire plot. In the end, at least before Rorschach's journal comes back into play, all of humanity was tricked by Veidt. The entire plot was one, absolutely gigantic practical joke. Now maybe I'm slow, and you all got that already, but perhaps I was too distracted by Rorschach's movie awesomeness. And also, again, other than the sex scene, I do believe that the movie improved upon the book. It was staggering to think that Veidt destroyed about a dozen cities instead of just New York, as in the book, but I believe it added to the impact. The book took up chapters with extranneous comic-book material, the pirate story and all that horror, to impress upon us the imagination behind it that was borrowed to create the huge tentacle monster. It was trying to convice us that a mind that could come up with those constant horrors could create something capable of horrifying New York. But the movie solution was neater, and more believable, I think. I approve.
And all I can say for all those other movie adaptations out there (Harry fucking Potter...) is that IF WATCHMEN CAN DO IT, AND STAR TREK CAN DO IT, THERE IS NO REASON YOU CAN'T. These two are proof that freakin' awesome movies can be made while remaining incredibly faithful to the canon. THERE IS NO EXCUSE in my mind FOR ALL THE ADLIBBING going on in those other films.
Gah, I'm still sore over the Half-Blood Prince. That was NOT the Half-Blood Prince. I don't even think it was a good movie. It was boring as hell. I believe that the director(s) favors certain actors and lets them do all the talking, even when other people had those parts in the books. I also firmly believe that the director(s), since the beginning of the movie franchise, is(are) convinced that Americans are complete idiots who can't understand a British accent or plot if spoken quickly, and therefore everything was super super summarized and spoken as slowly as possible. Seriously. Bellatrix and Snape spoke at a SNAIL'S PACE. Did no one else pick up on that?
Alright. I'm off to draw No-Show Hero or maybe my still life. (Ick.)
Ciao.