A few links and notes:
For some reason I found both voices in today's xkcd "fitting" in some way. Not that I've performed that sort of experiment/prank. I don't have the right presence for it.
I blame ucblockhead for providing the fascinating head tracking for desktop VR displays using the WiiRemote video. My first thoughts—besides "that's nifty"—were directed toward an 18th-century discourse on the nature of three-dimensional vision, a discourse that included noted and notable contributions by Berkeley and Herder. Part of the interest was physiological, but another was cognitive and philosophical and centered around how we conceptualize things. I have a wonderful article about it somewhere ... I just need to find it again.
As a follow-up to There Will Be Blood (viewed Monday), I'll mention L.I.E., which I've not yet seen. It stars Brian Cox and Paul Dano, and it is the latter who plays Daniel-Day Lewis's foil of sorts over in There Will be Blood. Tomorrow D and I will go watch No Country for Old Men; last year was quite a year for Josh Brolin. The A.V. Club covered Beaufort today, an Israeli war, and actually made it sound interesting. I saw the trailer last week and felt not interest at all in watching it.
Other trailers are out. I watched the one for Spiral and felt torn. It's following in a long line of bad thrillers and horror movies with titles consisting of one word (see: Saw, Hostel ...). But the cinematography seems interesting, if not particularly inventive. But then ... but then ... even though it's a thriller so the guy is a creep, do we really need another f*cking movie about an ugly dorky guy meeting a cute-ish girl? Movies by dorks for dorks starring dorks? It also features Six.
I'm also ambivalent about The Air I Breathe; it seems ... overdone, over-determined, just ... over ... but it also has a fantastic cast (Kevin Bacon, Forest Whitaker, Andy Garcia, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Brendan Fraser, Julie Delpy).
And to conclude: you want disturbing advertisements that sexualize young girls, blah blah blah? The 00s? The 90s? ... The 70s it is: In 1976, love was free and pure and innocent. And about 10 (thank you Salon for the link).
Daily comic book: X-Men No. 207.
This is the last issue of X-Men.
Xavier took a shot to the head and is currently left for dead; Cable is off to the future with the baby; Bishop took a blast in retaliation for nailing Xavier; Mystique has been left more or less a blank slate [see: Carol Danvers ca. 25 years ago] after Rogue absorbed a good deal of her; and the X-Men have been disbanded.
Where they go from here is dictated by two forces: story and marketing. If we're lucky they will run in parallel, coincide, or at least cross-fertilize each other. X-Mem is done; next month or so we get X-Men Legacy (No. 208—see, continuity of numbering, so it is X-Men, only it isn't ... but it is). Uncanny X-Men continues unimpeded, which could be a problem since there is no X-Men team anymore ... but they'll find a way around it, as that issue is mopping-up-time for the whole story line, and the new X-Men event is soon to begin ... happy happy joy joy.
We also get a new X-Force title and Young X-Men, as well as a brand spanking new Cable title, though their introductions are, supposedly, spaced out a bit, one each month. With Cable off in the future I suppose he's not going to have time to make an appearance in the final issue of his own title, Cable & Deadpool. That would be asking too much, would it not?
As for X-Men No. 207, it was short on characterization or snappy dialog, except where Emma Frost was concerned. Everybody else was in kill-it-now, kill-them-dead, don't-touch-me, and whiny-should-I-or-shouldn't-I modes. But the fight sequences were well done.
My great "hope" for the X-books at this time is that Peter David can get back to telling his brand of stories over in X-Factor, which is, still, the best of the bunch. Warren Ellis is, so I've heard, scheduled to take over Astonishing X-Men (the 24-issues-over-a-geologic-age run of Joss Whedon is set to end), and Warren is always good for snappy dialog and plotting.
As an update to another comic I read not-so-long-ago, it appears the name change from Incredible Hulk to Incredible Hercules is permanent. That "Hulk" series has ended; it's now the Herc's (I can't wait for the Hercules-and-Deadpool team-up ... the Herc with a Mouth?), and although Bruce Banner is de-hulked and in custody right now, there is the new "Hulk" series out there known as ... Hulk.
It's creativity vs. simplicity, and simplicity was, I suspect, right choice.
- Alcohol: 23
- Ice Cream: 23
- Finishing a book: 1
- Finishing a comic: 0
- Watching TV: 2
The whole TV thing is just a note to myself; the whole list is just a note to myself. There are no goals, but were there goals, they would be to keep the ice cream number high, the book and comic numbers low, and the TV number cycling, for right now I catch the Terminator series on Mondays and keep the box off the rest of the week.
I had a couple books lined up for today; reading a book every day is no longer realistic for me at this age (too many other things to do), but I did plan today as a "day off" of sorts and I had a couple books lined up. But then my roommate came home and we talked. And talked.
I was going to devote the whole diary—in three parts, a theme and variations if you will, with a separate introduction/theme and a recapitulation and perhaps fugue at at end—to recent interruptions practiced upon me by the roommate, a friend in Oakland, and another in Seattle, each when I was trying to engage in other activities, but the hour grew late, I grew tired, I felt no motivation to write anything, and I had laundry to do.
I've been meaning to do laundry for a few days. Today was "the deadline," so to speak, and as one can imagine, when one gives oneself such an ultimatum other circumstances intrude so as to make such chores Herculean undertakings rather than mere diversions. One of the neighbors downstairs is doing his/her laundry. Was. I heard the washer running, then the dryer, and the dryer some more. So I took my laundry down and noticed the washer was now free so started a load. I hoped and expected that once my load was done and his or her load was done he or she would remove the dry articles of clothing, freeing up the dryer for me.
But it was not to be.
So instead I folded my damp articles and brought them upstairs, where I decided to hang them to dry more slowly. Downstairs there is either a party, they're high, or they've just regressed to childhood, for occasionally I heard laughter and running around, running around furniture, as if there is chasing and rough-housing. And then nothing.
I've never determined whether they're a couple. Their first initials are the same, so I'm not sure which last name belongs to whom (based on looking at the mailbox). They're in the same program. And one of them has left a black bra on the dryer for the past month.
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