log (2005/12/16 to 2005/12/22)

"I'm Anna, by the way. What's your name?"

"John. John Murdoch."


I mean, why didn't anyone tell me about Dark City? I mean, someone (in the sense of "some part of the universe") presumably did, because I must have asked M to put it on her Netflix list because it came the other day and now I finally watched it.

But why didn't anyone take me by the lapels years ago and insist that I watch it? Of course if they'd done that years ago then I would have watched it years ago and I probably wouldn't have watched it tonight, and that would be too bad. Although you never know.

So anyway this is obviously anything but a review, but I'm just sayin' omg and that I watched Dark City and all, and that I thought it was a really good movie.

I dunno, maybe it's not officially a really good movie, maybe the consensus of those that I respect and admire and seek to emulate isn't that it's like one of the best movies ever, but anyway, regardless, I thought it was really good.

It wasn't the perfect movie, in that there were things I could carp about (or maybe it was the perfect movie, in that there were things I could carp about). Like that (what was it called?) "The Matrix" thing, I would have liked a final wizard battle involving the teleological basis of reality rather than who can push on the knife harder. And that thing at the end about how what makes us special isn't up here (pointing to the forehead), that was a little obvious (but hey at least he didn't gesture toward his chest or anything). F'rinstance.

But still, omg.


I thought it was a really good movie. You should see it yourself if somehow you haven't already (unless a ten second look at the IMDB page turns you off entirely, because if it does it's possible that you might not like it, and I know your time is valuable; but omg).

So I'm like taking lots of time off from work and stuff, it being That Time of Year, and that means that you'd think I'd have lots more time to write in my weblog, but in fact it might mean that I'm so busy loafing around and relaxing and doing things that it's most convenient to do on a long vacation that I don't get around to writing in my weblog much at all. You never know.

And then after Solstice we're going somewhere in an airplane and all for a couple of days, and airplanes don't usually have good Internet connectivity (well, you know what I mean (I hope)).

So there you are.

I put something about movies or something above the little input box in this issue ("issue") of the weblog, so you can write about (absolutely anything, including) good movies that you've seen and that If You Liked "Dark City" You Might Also Enjoy and all like that. If you feel like it.

All sortsa Sims Stuff as per usual, including a cute one-shot, and a long sordid college story that's spawned ("spawned") my very first Sims Challenge, called the "Sleeping Through College" Challenge, which I'm currently playtesting one Suzette Somnia through, and that's kinda fun.

Over in the Ajax toy, one or more readers write (wrote, have written) all sortsa good stuff, including these:

There were a million different lovely things happening that day, a million sparkling flashes of brilliance and thought and spectacular love and spontaneity, and every one of them bound to the others by a single tick of the watch.

It took her so long to learn anything, so long in fact that by the time she had learned it it had changed into something else. That's why early on she had developed her own shortcuts that tunneled her out to different parts of the grid. See : Polka Dot Netting. This navigation method often left her in very unfamiliar territory without a map.

There is a heart somewhere so bold that it beats for the love of love itself. Doesn't it know that love is out of fashion? Black is the new black, pr0n is the new prawn, jade is the new love.

Her story was not for public consumption. She lived a quiet life, an undocumented life. Was a life lived in public view any more valid than one lived in obscurity? Any less valid? When one's responsibility was to fully immerse in and viscerally feel the life one lived, did it matter that that life was lived out on the dark side of the moon? Not one bit. No not one bit.

Not every stellar event in her life had been punctuated by sex. There had been that wintry night in the old abandoned chip-burning silo, vertical sides as pitch as coal, so when you looked up, the long-rusted-away grid ceiling appeared as a portal to the stars and you thought you could fly just by thinking about it. There had been no sex there.

never turn in work on time, this is a guiding principle in life. it doesn't arise out of anything but defiant refusal to focus and submit one's mind and time to the task.

The lemon sharks looked so real that she had to keep licking the tip of her finger to make sure she couldn't taste the salt.

which are I think mostly about Mia, and which really one ought to read just one per day, with long stretches of contemplation in between, rather than all squnched together on the page there, but here we are.

(Is that how you spell "squnched"? It seems to be missing a letter, but I don't think "squunched" is really Allowed.)

A(nother) reader writes, I think some time ago, on one of Our Favorite Subjects,

Lessie Little -- No reply the blather donnish
Scotty Adkins -- Re: But sing a frame
Elbert Garland -- Re: you translate on cookie
Luis Boykin -- Re: The ask it acrostic numberless

And we ourselves note

Re: peeling lettering
Re: amicable aconite
Re: outgrown nowhere
Re: ethereality snuffy

which are all just too good not to mention (and which really ought to be read just one per day, etc, but etc).

Ooh, ooh, and this is really good! Here in the Things To Log file I find this little snippet, which I wrote before (quite a bit before) watching Dark City, which just goes to show:

"Why can't we just fly across?"

"Well... The laws of physics?"

"Dammit, I wrote the laws of physics for this stinking universe!"

"That wasn't, strictly speaking, you..."