Travelling In The Bigger Footsteps That Have Gone Before

So over the last month I somewhat neglected Zoomtard, my internetting generally and also my job. In fact, I haven’t gone to church in four weeks. It was surprisingly refreshing. I can’t wait to get back though. It may be held in a school room with pie charts explaining fractions on the wall. The chair in front of me might display a crudely drawn male member. The singing may be lacklustre and at least one of the songs will make me want to pull my hair out but damnit it will be good to be back there. Getting a little taste of the hereafter.

Turns out heaven is a very large post-primary school. Suckas!

I saw a lot of movies and things like that over the last few weeks. The Simpsons gets a 2 out of 5 for generally being very good but in no way doing justice to the proud heritage it has set as the most important cultural artifact of my generation and of course, practically being my third parent. I loved bits of it and hold out hope that when someone buys it for me for Christmas and I watch it 18 times before New Years it will have stood up tall and taken the love it deserves out of my heart.

I also saw Hairspray. I am not ashamed to admit that. You know when your girlfriend groans with boredom at the prospect of another Die Hard, Die Hard 5, Die Harder To Defeat All Evil for example? She doesn’t feel that way because she is a hollow shell of a halfling with no appreciation of the fine art of blowing things up while driving quickly. She says that because she actually really likes the big action set pieces for about 90 seconds. But then 13 minutes later, after the jet pilots fail to kill McBain but do manage to take out half the city she is bored. I felt the same way about Hairspray. It was brilliant and fun (and I even will forgive John Travolta in drag ruining an opportunity for sensitivity and replacing it with buffoonery of the worst kind- its a man dressed as a woman, how very amusing!) but then the songs dragged on and on and on. And Queen Latifah was in it. And it wedged in an insulting message at the end. Actually I hate Hairspray and all it represents. How did I ever fool myself into thinking it had merits. Die Hairspray. Now that would be a movie Bruce Willis could make watchable.

Another movie that was aimed at the ladies and to which I flocked was Waitress. In spite of it perpetuating three of my most hated myths I couldn’t help but like Waitress. Myth #1: Marriage is a trap from which infidelity can liberate you. Myth #2: Regardless of your complex emotions in the run up to the birth, the moment you hold your baby in your arms for the first time you will have a magical life long bond to him or her. Myth #3: The worst myth of all; follow your heart.

Your heart hates you. It cosies up to you by ceaselessly telling you lies you’d like to hear about yourself and then when it really counts, it sends you one way when you needed to go the other. Whenever your heart has led you the right way, it only led you there so that it could spring an even bigger trap further down the road.

But besides this and the fact that it actually sells a fourth myth- that money solves all problems- I can’t help but love a movie that has a woman tell a man that she doesn’t need him to complete her, make her whole or save her. Amen! So rare that such a message is delivered and followed through on so that it isn’t just mealy mouthed platitudes. Plus, it has Nathan Fillion in it which means it is funny. And there are amazing baking scenes. I sat in the back row wearing a long coat, salivating at the cakes. Imagine Zoomtard in his sleaziest voice whispering, “Oooh look at those cakes!” and you have the right idea.

We also saw Raising Arizona which like all Coen Brothers films is adorable but it basically leaves you feeling a little underwhelmed. You feel it should just have ended twenty minutes sooner. Kookie camera angles and Holly Hunter can only get you so far.

The Illusionist is one of those movies that should probably be making hundreds of millions, or at least as much as My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But even in the big serious-actor-laden magic movies, it comes second best to The Prestige. There is no way that it convinces you that you are in Vienna. Austrians don’t speak with posh English accents, even imaginary English speaking Austrians. Plus, the magic angle wasn’t done nearly as compelling as its superior competitor. Plus, the Prestige has David Bowie.

Finally, or at least the last opinion I’ll share with you about movies, we saw the Bourne Ultimatum which is the best film I have seen this year. I am utterly addicted to these movies. “He drove off the roof” should have some kind of colloquial meaning so I get to use it everyday. It even had a resurrection angle which is so hot right now in popular culture. If you haven’t gone to see it, then tell your uncle his funeral can wait and book tickets for tomorrow night. It is that good. All the actors are brilliant, Bourne is a fascinating character and the plot is terrific.

I also listened to a lot of music. This paragraph is for Stig who stupidly is still not back from the Andes. I’ve had the Smashing Pumpkins album for about a month but still can’t be bothered to listen to it. I am a decadent westerner. Icky Thump is brilliant but maybe we should ask more from the White Stripes? Bjork’s new album never lives up to the opening song. St. Vincent is good, but she’s no Sufjan Stevens. I am starting to like Bruce Springsteen twenty years too early. Jarvis Cocker has temporarily lost his mojo obviously. Feist is really good at being pretty and making class singles but she is hardly Joni Mitchel, is she? The Go Team! will serve as background music to my powerpoint presentations for the next 16 years. Finally, Rilo Kiley might be my favourite band.

Your Correspondent, He just don’t say this world of trouble is the only world we’ll ever see

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