윤

[Lame ol’ 2-D photo wouldn’t do any justice to Cameron’s tour de force, so here’s one of the guys from G.I. Joe, which we watched last night. It wasn’t as bad as the comparison makes it out—for that, I might have selected the Chun Li movie from our Netflix backlog instead—but couldn’t they have at least tried to work in the beard and Bulletman the Human Bullet?]

The Dark Knight at the Irvine Spectrum might just have been my last bow at camping, I realize that now. Arriving a week after the premiere and an hour before the 12:15 show put us 200 people behind in line, and inside I missed the irresponsibility to leap over rows for those middle seats anymore. Could be the sour grapes talking, but does it seem that even with all the new technology, that directors this visionary still frame their shots with a natural bias for on-screen movement towards the right? Something to keep in mind in a theater full of beneficiaries of continental genocide. Good thing about IMAX, previews in the format are scarce, so there’s no chance of seeing shit like Glenn Beck before a ninja movie.

Tonight I learned that the chromosome I came up with is a Y. But as relieved as I am that there’ll be a strong young man for his mother in my rapidly-declining years (if my average mile is any indication), I must confess some trepidation at the news, as it reminds me that I am a son estranged from his father, who himself had no better relationship with his own. Was each of our circumstances so unique, or did we simply both hold our predecessors responsible for our broken homes? Perhaps mine failed because his family was more burden than boon, his world had no room for those of his offspring, and his lifelong pursuit to debunk the patriarch’s material sacrifices only backfired. On us. Then it would seem the best course of action is just to let it go and join my wife and child in bed.

While watching 老婆 watching 내조의 여왕 (me, I prefer the outlandish yet delicious 혼), I got to thinking about poor Joseph Hurley, who if anyone I’d suspect of getting back at us for the one year he suffered from us at Moses Brown Middle School. Not physically, no—bullying was almost unfashionable at such a casually-run institution—but his cherubic form, which I once overheard him explaining to a small audience was the result of some rare condition stalling puberty, and forthright enough manner, like the time he came in from outside blustering that he wouldn’t be attending P.E. because he couldn’t make it through the foot-high fallen snow to the gym building, subjected him to covert ridicule even he must’ve eventually realized. He’d be almost too easy a twisted supervillain, like Dr. Loveless from the Wild Wild West. Maybe the dreadful Will Smith version ought to have cast Gary Coleman as him instead?

Koreans make sure revenge isn’t too personal. Compare the original Oldboy:

That’s certainly not motivation for the masses.

Ice cube thief(s) continues to disregard my sign, even with another asking him to follow the original one, so while researching artwork for a more graphical approach, found this:

Next up: instructional video.

(Has this been done already? I’m reminded of that Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires movie. Except neither the martial artists nor undead were particularly sex-ified for modern audiences …though I may have mentally blocked an embarrassing romance between David Chiang and one of the Brits.)

The holiday weekend allowed me to catch up on some of my Netflix backlog, including Blood: the Last Vampire, and see the new Rain movie in the theater. (Oh, and X-Men Origins: Wolverine had the half-and-half “Marcel Marcel” guy from Samsoon in it, but he wasn’t the lead.) Both he and Gianna, aka 전지현, deliver serviceable performances that rightfully focus on their athleticism and angst rather than their English but can’t transcend the awful plotting, bombastic CG and pushover villainy. Then again, Han wasn’t much of a threat to Bruce, either.