Couldn't sleep Saturday night, so I made this big push towards Lv.70 while letting the TV run. Sometime around 3 I caught the opening credits of Red Dragon, that most recent film in the (Anthony Hopkins) Hannibal Lecter trilogy. You know, the one that remade Michael Mann's Manhunter from sixteen years earlier for no apparent reason than to make a far inferior movie. There's a brilliant scene in the original where Dolarhyde imagines his girl with another man that reveals so much more about the warped mind than any faithful literary detail into his obsession with the Blake.

And speaking of obsessive minds, this Sunday lugubriously wrapped up the Winter Sonata marathon on AZN Television's "Summer of Hallyu" (韓流, for those of us who can pronounce the extra n). I must've missed something in the epilogue, because one moment the lead is happily married, and the next, she's back in her lover's arms. Regardless, I think I may have a handle on the whole phenomenom—who wrote that drivel, a high-school student—and it has to do more with sex than love, or the lack thereof. This star-crossed cast is only as messed up as they are because their parents fucked around so much! Hormones flow or tears do, and maybe audiences realize, too, that when it's the former, any chance for the feelings that led there are over.