The Surgeon General of Beverly Hills!

Best wishes to the illustrious Bruce, on this, the day of his birth. If the movie gods could get you into Ghostbusters 3, I’d sacrifice some various small mammals in thanks, a cat, maybe some rabbits, couple of children, you know whatever was on hand.

In the meantime, I’ll keep rewatching Brisco County Jr. and hoping for a Sam Axe spin-off.

Five-year constants becoming variables ain’t the way to keep me grounded.

LOST, I want to start by saying I do love you, but I think it’s time we step back and look at where this relationship is going. There have been a lot of ups and downs over the last few years and it’s not really that you or I have changed, it’s just that I need time…

So, I thought it would take a lot more than another ‘reset button’ episode to shake my faith in my favorite television show, but there is this unsettled feeling left in me after last’s night’s season 4 finale. And the looming reminder that there are scant few episodes left to smooth things over.

LOST has always been about the storytelling and characters for me, and even characters I dislike, specifically Jack and Kate, get some intricate facets and backstory to support and expand upon their often insane, selfish actions and I still enjoy watching even though I don’t particularly like these characters. That’s great writing. It’s also something Cuse & Lindelof took the time to emphacize last night in the recap show, that LOST was very much about the characters and their storytelling priorities were to the beloved 815 core survivors and thus have spent the series crafting a meaningful journey for these people.

But that’s just not what I saw. I saw two completely new characters sandwiched into the third act given a power struggle that has apparently dictated most of the crazy stuff we’ve seen. All this really has done is completely undermind the stories of our central characters, making them pawns in this larger conflict.

And that’s just not sitting very well with me at the moment, because it sort of suggests that our Losties could be any smucks that the gods/deities/gate-keepers/whatever Jacob-&-his-rival-are decided to play out their game of backgammon with.

If only Locke were still around, maybe I’d have some faith. Because that was my very favorite thing, that no matter how many times Locke was manipulated and used, he was a man of faith when no one else was, he’d have bad times but eventually return to center, so I always had faith in him. But apparently people who have faith get completely fucked in this show and I was a sap to think otherwise.

So my faith is shaken, I’m feeling manipulated and if I could ask just one thing it’d be to ask Jacob “Is it really going to be alright?” Because I’m lost, you bastards.

First ten verbs redux…

Brett relaunched the meme, and Pooks jumped it to Facebook, so I figured I’d bandwagon along…

mirrors
claims
heaves
curses
trades
fight
drains
crushes
tossing
flicks

Transitive verbs all up in this piece! Not a single “is” or “are” or “seems”on the first page. What do I win?

My ongoing Transliterate crisis

So. It’s been a while. I’ve been doing things. Things other than blogging, obviously, and on the whole, generally things other than writing. Maybe I’m getting less verbose, slipping into a coma of non-thinking activities, congealing my brain into mush. I mean, that’s what you do when you age, right? Lovely thought, that.

But then, I do a lot of Twitter and Facebook. Not that there’s much thought or interpretation in those bite-sized chunks of randomness that flow from some narcissistic impulse. The continuing evolution of communication conspires to rob me of all motivation. In the PRO column, they do curb my desire to blog about the various whacked television developments, and since I hardly add much that you can’t find in the 40 million other Interweb television discussions, I’m going with that as a good thing. … Though it needs to be said that LOST is still the bomb, and all you bitches better recognize that John Locke, the zen-master-ninja-pimp of all things, has returned and will be kicking so much ass. Also, I love that Ashes to Ashes is back! Okay, so not entirely curbed…

While it’s been quiet here the short film I was working on is generally done and I hope to have a cut to show off at some point. I hadn’t been planning on entering any of the writing comps this year, just because my brain-lock set in around Febuary and I’ve taken a break from the workshop scene– BUT I got a little nudge and ended up doing a quick re-draft for Nicholl and while waiting for the submission page to come up, I got impatient and entered PAGE, BlueCat and Austin as well. Need to figure out how to make my ADHD work for me more often! if only it’d do the dishes.

Speaking of the non-existing attention-span, I’m bored now and can’t be bothered to figure out how to end this post. Considered a positive outlook- need to work harder- kinda declaration, but meh. I want to write, so I’m gonna just continue trying to hold off the distractions.

PRELUDE TO A SUPER AIRPLANE.

The internet takes me to strange and interesting places sometimes. Places often best left unseen. And it makes me wonder if I haven’t somehow completely eradicated my sense of good taste. But as I often feel the need to harp on about here blogside, my tastes are questionable. I like JAWS 3-D, and that’s been around longer than Internets. So yeah, more evidence that I probably never had a sense of good taste. It’s good that I collect these here because I’m certain it’ll get me into trouble someday. Not that such a collectionwill exonerate me or anything, just know that I understand that you’re thinking “Wtf, Nicolle?!”

I don’t know, man. I don’t know.

Tonight, I found myself reading “Prelude to a Super Airplane” not quite certain whether I found it loathsome, or awesome.  So I kept reading. Thought about stopping. Skipped some pages. Admired the page layout. Read some more. Then I hit this bit:

(His co-airplane-driver, an aspiring scientist named Markush Von Vendervan, was supposed to be doing these calculations, 18 but he was currently having visions of what he would later say was his “scientific destiny”.)

and I thought, Well, to hell with it, I gotta finish it now. I mean, I feel obligated in a way, I read Heart Breaking Work, hell, I read Danielewski’s Only Revolutions. This is kinda like those and the movie SPEED. And/or Chuck Norris. And JAWS- the chapter font somehow reminds me of JAWS.

So check it out if you like airplanes!

« Previous Entries Next Entries »