Up now, Morland's Hen's Tooth ale. Cued up for repeat later is a six pack of Moyland's
New Pornographers' Twin Cinema surfaced in my car stereo a couple of days ago, so
Electric Version gets some play now.
I love The Wire. I love Maureen. The latter gave me the former in its entirety in one lovely box set.
The only thing more difficult than watching it all again as quickly as I did when Stien told me to watch it in the first place has been resisting the urge to find whoever decided a compact, cardboard, discs-may-be-scratched-when-you-open-the-damn-thing-the-first-time packaging.
While it is impressive that they can fit however goddam many discs (ca. 30) into such a small package, what the hell good does it do if the product has been busy destroying itself since it rolled out of the plant?
A shitload of slim DVD plastic cases will be bought, space constraints be damned.
I bought another Bizarro action figure. It's not really new though. It's just the standard paint job of the alternate (therefore rare, I presumed) one I bought about a year ago. Dupe included, I'm up to four. Without resorting to eBay, I plan on purchasing all I come across. That means the tattoo is back on the cortical horizon.
Not that I have any love for Robin Leach, but he should find some way of getting money out of Viacom, provided Viacom is still the parent of MTV/VH1 (and it is; I just checked).
A majority of the reality crap they program these days is directly descended from his old Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous bit.
Being a native South Dakotan, class warrior runs in my veins. Yeah, I'm a a bit of a hypocrite, given how little my concept of the value of a dollar has to do with my parents', but for the love of something you hold dear, watch a goddam episode of My Super Sweet 16 and try not to go on tax-bracket killing spree.
Less than a week to The Watchmen. I'm excited because I'm a geek. I'm afraid because I'm a geek. Actually, the geek part of me is substantially more afraid than it is excited. Whether it's good or bad, I will feel reduced.
Part of being a geek is liking things and appreciating things that have flown beneath the radar of the commonfolk. You get to enjoy something that is awesome and spit in the eyes of those that deemed it beneath them, which is fun because of the logical assumption associated:
If they look down on or away from what you love, then they look down on or away from you.
It's no fun when everyone gets on board. For example, despite spending the first three years or so of college pushing him on everyone I knew, look how fast I got off the goddam Elliott Smith bandwagon.
In the coming months, I will be drowning in a sea of people who are wearing Rorschach T-shirts and Dr. Manhattan condoms and people being obtuse and saying they like Nite Owl the most, much as I insist that my favorite Pavement songwriter was Spiral Stairs.
I will be miserable, surrounded by people whose primary sin is not having loved and cherished The Watchmen for 15 years.
Also, they will be 20, unwashed, and think it's okay to shop at Hot Topic unironically.
I love Maureen, but if I can ever buy a Bubbles T-shirt at Hot Topic, those scratched DVDs will be pawned off at the Electric Fetus faster than you can say, "Who told Dominic West playing Jigsaw was a good idea?"