Stand by

And please hold the line.

Hollywood, you've crossed me for the last time

So,

I went and saw Wolverine: Origins the other night at the local cheap theatre. I'm glad I didn't see it when it first came out, because I felt ripped off for even having spent five dollars on it.

I've never been a huge fan of Wolverine, but this movie was just... And they tried so hard, but...
I really have no words to describe it. People can point to me and say "It is what it is, enjoy it or don't." And I think in this case, that's a ludicrous statement to be making.

This is (hopefully) the last movie in a franchise that started off so strongly that I'm still amazed that they could kill it this badly and completely. Maybe it's because they stopped letting Solid Snake write the screenplay. Maybe it's because the X-men continuity is a half-slaggered mess of retcons and relapses itself.

Maybe it's because I just hate when directors fall into the trap of just being horrible fan-serving dickweeds, and focus so much on the "epic," that they seem to forget that they're making a movie about characters. Watching it, and a lot of other movies that I've seen lately, you could've replaced every character in it with card-board cutouts, holding hand-written cue cards and it would've had the exact same emotional impact.

It's a cold bloody day in hell indeed, when the most gripping movies I've seen this year have been made by Pixar and Dreamworks.

I mean, these are goddamned computer-generated mimicries of the real world.
Is this what it's come to?

Technology is proof that only the spammers love you

For the last three days, I've been having a recurring dream. I'm hoping tonight I don't have it again, because it was basically the summation of my life up to this point.

Chasing down something, but never able to get it. I don't know what it is, or why I'm chasing it. But I know if I stop, I'll die. And I know if I get lost, I'll end up stopping.

This week should be good for photos, though we'll see. We've gone from cold to drought to thor's hammer in a matter of weeks. It's been a melancholy affair, because it's all been seen from my window. A window that's next to several large prints, which out of the corner of my eye, look like yet more windows. The wall's not done yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

We all get around it eventually

So I guess today... yesterday, was Canada Day. Given that most of my non-work days start when I wake up at about two in the afternoon, this is still "today," for me.

I was tempted to write something about Canada, and how much I love it despite the vindictive slugs and the two-faced politicians, but I think that goes without saying. Nowhere is perfect. Our problems are just a lot more... passive aggressive.

Lately, I've just been staying inside a lot. For some reason, my allergies are a lot worse this year than any year prior. Every time I go outside, I'm basically crippled to the point of not being able to breathe. Typical antihistamines seem to be doing little to nothing, so I'm curious if it's not some other, underlying issue that I've missed.

I'd like to visit a doctor, but given how the provincial government has managed to dig itself into such a hole that they deem it necessary to de-list almost every non-essential medical service is just a little off-putting. I mean, I haven't seen a chiropractor in over a year, and now I don't think I'm going to at all. Sixty dollars a visit for four visits is basically my entire month's paycheque, and given how work's slowed down, I think I'm kind of fucked for all my old creature comforts.

Yep. It'll be alpo dinners and cardboard boxes before too long.

I've continued working on my story as well. It's... interesting to work on, to say the least. The main problem I'm having is maintaining a tight hold on reality, when the main character himself is unable to. The mind is a terrible thing to grasp, but that's exactly what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to make the unbelievable, believable. And I don't think I'm going to be able to do it. I'll probably have to compromise somewhere and it's going to fuck the whole thing up, and...

Well, honestly, I wasn't anticipating writing a whole paragraph about it, but there it is. I'm staring at this thing as if it was the child of a woman I didn't know, and she said it was mine.

Speaking of women, I'm pretty sure the same stuff I'm allergic to causes mild insanity in them. Really. I've got no idea.