The Slow Degradation of Time

Saturday's big movie with the popcorn and all was Elizabeth: The Golden Age, because Nan loves Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush and Clive Owen. Clive Owen is very nice-looking in this movie. I'm not usually one to knock a movie, so I'll just say I was expecting Gandalf or a Kraken to appear any minute. Also there is a scene at the end that reminded me of the Eurythmics video Here Comes The Rain Again. It may not be worth watching the movie just to see what I mean.

On Sunday, choosing a movie to see was interesting. We have a few of them sitting around that we haven't seen yet, you know. Sure. Two of these movies are Atonement and Enchanted. I now give you a brief, edited excerpt of choosing a movie to see on Sunday, or what I like to call the reason I probably won't even keep writing about the movies we watch much longer.

(The mass on EWTN is blasting away in the background as Nan looks at the written list I keep because I still don't have much of a voice. Also, Mum has some sort of cold or something that makes her sneeze and be evil.)

Nan: I guess Enchantment.

Me: Wh--

Mum: Yeah, Atonement's fine.

Me: Enchanted or Atonement?

Nan: They're the only long ones.

Me: We've still got Die Hard 4.

Nan: I want to see something light.

(It is then I realize she must want Enchantment.)

Nan: Enactment.

Me: Enchanted?

Mum: I think she said Atonement.

(At this point, the mass Nan is watching on TV has been ruined. I go upstairs to set up Enchanted, because I'm feeling particularly evil.)

Enchanted, however, was really really good. I don't know what's wrong with me. There was singing, and...and...it was a Disney movie. But I...enjoyed it.

So then we watched Paula Abdul hallucinate an entire Jason Castro concert. I really can't add anything to that, because I swear I saw Biggs visit Luke on Tatooine in Star Wars back in 1980. I always thought "Reality" was the wrong term for any show involving tense music and flashing lights, anyway. Although this has been my reality since 1984, so maybe I am Paula Abdul.

On Wednesday, Nan found The Last Supper a movie with Annabeth Gish and Cameron Diaz in it. I was in the middle of the effects of exposure to "moderate" tree pollen and so I happened to be looking up at the ceiling when I heard Bill Paxton turn into the far extreme right wing of the Internet. I ended up looking at the screen like, "WHAT WHAT WHAT?" for the next hour and a half. Because, like Eating Raoul this movie was crazy fun that gives me hope that someday, my weird-ass scribblings will find an audience.

Nan noted that it must be killing night when she found the end of Six Ways To Sunday, and it was more far out, artsy, graphic killing and er, hey! Deborah Harry!

I needed those two movies, you know. Because I have too much time to think the things I've written will never have an audience while I'm busy doing things that take me from my writing.

On Thursday I discovered my allergy was actually the cold Mum had, and Nan caught it too, so in addition to working on all those things I do, I'm sicker than usual again. Also, I have been taking psuedoephedrine-laced drugs so I can function, which means any day now you ought to see me in a bell tower somewhere, firing my Lego Stormtrooper arm at people. The only reason I haven't done it yet is because I'm trying to find a string long enough to reel the arm back in so I don't have to keep going up and down stairs to retrieve it, because if there's one thing that kills a homicidal rage, it's the prospect of having to climb stairs.

The Slow Degradation of Time