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Sunday, August 5, 2012

Crap In General (and General Crap)

August 5, 2012:  Well, hello everybody! I'd like to say it was nice to see you again -- figuratively, of course -- but in reality I'm very hot and sticky and cranky, and I don't really have any good feelings toward you at all right now, despite a vague appreciation that you are here with me after all -- figuratively, that is -- and that has to mean something, although it could merely be a symptom of your innate selfishness or demented voyeurism.

That said, there are so many, many things to catch up on ... and yet I'm so cranky and sticky and hot that I'm in absolutely no mood to begin recounting everything. Sufficie it to say that everyone in the outside world remains stupid and self-centered, I remain baffled and disturbed, and the disconnect between me and reality continues
to grow exponentially.

On a positive note, I've seen some really good movies lately, including (for the eighth time) John Carpenter's "Vampires," which is really just one of the greatest of its kind. Jack Crow, the Catholic church's expert vampire slayer, is the role James Woods was meant to play, soundly accentuated by the subtle skilled work of Daniel Baldwin -- the best Baldwin brother, for sure -- as the reliable Montoyo. This really is a brilliant horror movie -- loads of fun, slick and corny -- everything you could want from the genre -- and best of all centered on characters that aren't teenagers!

That said, I found the new "Amazing Spiderman" a bit disappointing for that very reason -- too much "Twilight"-type dialogue, unstably supported by a weak actress with bugged-out eyes and a new Peter Parker who is definitely not Toby Maguire. Lots of the special effects were good, and the story -- while a weird departure from the classic origin -- and let me tell you, it's classic for a very good reason -- is fair and fine, such as it is ... But ... But ... I don't know. I just don't know! Perhaps this new incarnation can redeem itself by including some of the more important villains in the next movies -- Mysterio, perhaps, or the Scorpion or Electro ... If not, it may just have to mumble its way into tepid obscurity.

What else? Geez, how the hell should I know. I'm so sticky and short-minded and hot and crampy, all I want to do is climb in the freezer and rest my parts on the ice tray. That, in turn, reminds me that we've got to get the cat fixed for a variety of reasons, the least of which is it might teach him a lesson for knocking over three glasses in the kitchen (the stupid fool!).

I'm also looking for a new car -- that is an old new car (or a new old one). I'm certainly not up to having to track one down, and yet I'm also not relishing the prospect of a rich taperstry of new problems should I fail to secure one in the next few days. Were I smart, I'd pack up and move to the city, but I'm coming to realize more and more, as each sweaty day passes me, that I was never quite as smart as I thought I was. Unfortunately, I'm now getting just smart enough to realize that ...

But enough about me. You came here to find out where modern culture was heading, and I assure you it's not really moving anywhere. That's probably a good thing. It makes valid the perpetual regurgitation of everything classic, for lack of better things new. It explains why magazines like Rolling Stone (which is crappy) and Mojo (which is crummy, but my kind of crummy) keep putting Led Zeppelin and The Beatles on their covers, respectively, and why "The Catcher in the Rye" still gets printed up the wazoo.

Speaking of books, there's a brilliant new humorous sci-fi novel out that my son is reading as we speak. I can't recall the name, but if you come back here next week, I'll try and report it ...

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