Attention Deficit Dis--moooooooooooooooo...
Braved this evening's inclement weather to catch a 9:30 showing of City Lights, with Charlie Chaplin. One other person from my class (plus an A/V geek whom she was friends with, obviously) was in attendance; at first I was pissed off when they started heckling the movie (about midway through), but as the DVD began to fuck up more and more often (producing a stuttery, 'block' effect), it was hard not to talk over it, since it was impossible to see what was going on. Save for how drawn-out it was, I appreciated the old-fashioned hi-jinks...certainly funnier than anything Dane Cock has done.
Oh, yeah: I had to watch it for my Film Theory class (that's an important contextual detail).
See, all this education has turned me into a snooty, pretentious fuckhead.
Now I'm typing this entry in the empty college computer lab because I'm not cool enough to have a functional computer of my own. Nah, really, I don't care.
Attended a meeting of the YCP Film Society yesterday afternoon, which took place in the cozy, secluded Annex lobby (it has couches and pine-green carpeting). I mentioned David Lynch's Inland Empire to prove I wasn't a total rube just there for pizza and soda.
I have more to say, but I wish to leave this place and return to my miserable existence in hell.
One of my co-workers mentioned a job opening at the bookstore in an unusually serious tone; I responded with blank skepticism and confusion, maybe an accompanying smile, as well.
The course on Sir Thomas Malory entails some of the awesomest reading I've done in my entire college career (which, admittedly, spans super-freshman, super-sophomore, super-junior, and super-senior status).
None of the bookstores in my area stock Fangoria anymore, and I find this extremely aggravating (guess I'll have to cave in and blow my wad on a subscription).
Also: the new Skinny Puppy album sounds better, and like less of a stunt than The Greater Wrong of the Right; more cohesive, noisy, and with fewer distracting guest musicians. I'll give it a few more listens before solidifying an opinion, which I'm sure everyone is dying to hear.
Over and out.
Oh, yeah: I had to watch it for my Film Theory class (that's an important contextual detail).
See, all this education has turned me into a snooty, pretentious fuckhead.
Now I'm typing this entry in the empty college computer lab because I'm not cool enough to have a functional computer of my own. Nah, really, I don't care.
Attended a meeting of the YCP Film Society yesterday afternoon, which took place in the cozy, secluded Annex lobby (it has couches and pine-green carpeting). I mentioned David Lynch's Inland Empire to prove I wasn't a total rube just there for pizza and soda.
I have more to say, but I wish to leave this place and return to my miserable existence in hell.
One of my co-workers mentioned a job opening at the bookstore in an unusually serious tone; I responded with blank skepticism and confusion, maybe an accompanying smile, as well.
The course on Sir Thomas Malory entails some of the awesomest reading I've done in my entire college career (which, admittedly, spans super-freshman, super-sophomore, super-junior, and super-senior status).
None of the bookstores in my area stock Fangoria anymore, and I find this extremely aggravating (guess I'll have to cave in and blow my wad on a subscription).
Also: the new Skinny Puppy album sounds better, and like less of a stunt than The Greater Wrong of the Right; more cohesive, noisy, and with fewer distracting guest musicians. I'll give it a few more listens before solidifying an opinion, which I'm sure everyone is dying to hear.
Over and out.