musings

So, I’ve just spent three days listening to pretty much nothing but Velvet Acid Christ. I never realised, before, just how paranoid sounding music could get. Excellent stuff – I highly recommend you get some.

I finished reading two books in the last couple of days, Perdido Street Station by China Mieville, and Screwjack by Hunter S. Thompson.

Perdido Street Station is wonderful. One could not possibly praise this book highly enough. Shortlisted for the Hugo, winner of the British Fantasy and Arthur C. Clarke awards, it’s an utter marvel. I don’t want to try and describe it at all, because it’s so rich and fresh that you really need experience it yourself. Mieville is a staggering talent, and I need to go hunt down his other works.

Screwjack, on the other hand, is really disappointing. I don’t know what I was expecting, and it shouldn’t have been much, given the size of the book – it’s really three short stories, the longest of which is apparently Thompson recording his very first mescaline experience. I’ll give that story one thing – it really made mescaline sound like an experience worth trying, if only once. The other two stories were, well, lame. The thing’s a $22 (CDN) hardcover. If I hadn’t found it remaindered for $7 I think I’d be pretty annoyed. As it stands, I think the book was worth the seven bucks, because though the content lacked, Thompson’s delivery is always entertaining.

Did I really say that the “only good thing” about Reloaded “was the albino rastafarian twins”? Somebody, call the grammar police on me. Apparently I’ve managed to forget the difference between singular and plural.

I just realized….
The ONLY good thing about Matrix 2 was the albino rastafarian twins…
…
…
and they’re NOT in Matrix 3. WTF?

Just got back (’bout an hour ago, really) from The Matrix: Revolutions. I’ve seen movies I’ve enjoyed less. The Matrix: Reloaded, for one. House of the Dead would be another. This is certainly the biggest budget bomb I can think of, though. It wasn’t a movie at all. It was just a collection of disjoint scenes, all of which went on for far too long. I enjoyed Reloaded when I saw it, but immediately after I saw it I realized that what I actually enjoyed was the act of going to see the movie. See, I saw it in San Diego with Carla and Kevin, friends I’d not spent any significant amount of time with in something like a year. The movie was pretty bad (worse than Revolutions) but, to quote another friend, it’s all about the company.

Do yourself a favour. Pretend The Matrix was a standalone film. Treat it like a one-shot movie. Ignore the sequels. Revolutions is two hours that feels like four.

Well, I’m no longer employed at Rockstar Toronto. It’s the first time in a long time that I’m not working for somebody else. More importantly, it’s the first time in a long time that I’m not working for somebody else, and the choice to do so was mine.

To see what I’m up to now, go here.

I’m all raring to go right now, but I’m sure the burnout of the past two and a half years is just lurking behind me waiting to leap on my shoulders and drive me, and all my enthusiasm, into the dirt, until I can get some R&R. Still, it’s a small price to pay to be master of my own destiny.