The King is dead...long live Kong

I just got back from a well spent three hours of my life. King Kong doesn't have it all, but it's got a lot. Emotional punch, character growth, perfect musical score, nearly flawless effects, and the guts to be three hours long because that's how long it needed to be. (You want a shorter Kong, go make your own--at least that's the way I figure it) Kong is a nearly perfect computer creation. Naomi Watts shows more depth than she has in any of her past movies. The film moves as fast as a roller coaster, but truth be told I would have been happy just watching the two of them sitting in a room together. Both have the ability to speak volumes with just their eyes.

Go see King Kong. Your butt will ache for a while, but let it complain.


The stage of death you never hear about.

Someone famous once decided that there were a set number of stages of death that we go through. There’s anger, rejection, acceptance, and a few others. But I’ve recently discovered a new one. It’s stage wherein you grab the dearly departed and pound them on the coffee table until their guts spill out over the living room carpet.

I have recently suffered the death of a loved one. The other morning I came downstairs to do some writing and my trusty iBook wouldn’t wake up. I poked and prodded and then realization washed over me like the sticky contents of a heart-shaped whirlpool tub at a swingers motel. It was dead.

Maybe I knew it was coming. Only a week earlier I had burned a backup of my files, and the night before it died I emailed a copy of a recently completed novel to myself. Perhaps the stench of death was already in the air at the time.

I dunno. I do know that my postings here will be limited for a while. I think you’ll be able to survive without me. Most of the world manages to.