I’m sometimes glad to be proven wrong—what am I saying, as a pessimist, I count on it—the mulefa and war with the angels weren’t unfilmable; I was only unable to predict that budgets for such spectacle would eventually be approved for the small screen. Not like me, too, to quote the books (“There’s plenty of folk as’d like to have a lion as a dæmon and they end up with a poodle”) and fail to make the connection to “Seen and Not Seen” from Remain in Light.
I’m also reminded how I found the series in the first place, from a co-worker whose church-arranged husband strung her along for just long enough to finance his business and obtain a green card. The spinster’s faith is surely unshaken: “L’absurde naît de cette confrontation entre l’appel humain et le silence déraisonnable du monde.” Albert Camus, Le mythe de Sisyphe
“I thought I was writing fiction in The Handmaid’s Tale.” Every once in a while when technology rolls out its latest advance there’s talk of George Orwell overturning in his grave, so it’s remarkable to read the author’s own reaction to this dystopian development. She’s absolutely right, of course; Alito’s arbitration of the “nation’s history and tradition” makes a mockery of the highest court in the land—as if Thomas’ presence and the Trump additions weren’t enough—and tosses 400 years of legal jurisprudence. Cherry-picking the Constitution, just like they do the Bible. There’s no reasoning with(in) self-serving liars and hypocrites.
Not sure about that third one–in fact, I’m sure it’s wrong–because the second took me so long to get right, by the time I got to it I forgot the last of the three words. At the top of the stairs, led by a bikini-clad comely lass with such soft tanned skin, were two arrays of hoses wrapped in plastic, and each was labelled with names like “Strawberry.” Was my job to mate the matching ends and ensure the flow of liquid between them. The “Transhibiscus” connection (itself a corruption from something even more fictitious) kept leaking and required several tries to fasten securely, causing my memory failure afterward.
I had another dream about walking under large trees occupied by a giant bear or crocodile, most likely influenced by that much smaller one we pass on the way back from Ralphs taken up by bees, but my mind was still on that soft, soft skin…
What kept me watching this low-budget no-fanfare new series wasn’t so much the prospect of Lovecraftian horror (which no, doesn’t just mean the spooks are invincible), but my fascination with the main character’s video restoration work. Plus, Tarkovsky’s Solaris, which is Lovecraftian. I wish they went somewhere with that, beyond the use of found-footage simply to switch perspective, maybe that’s what they were getting at with playback of all the recordings recreating reality. Why not make that the “other world”—a realm run by a being not unlike the Doom Patrol “Telephone Avatar“—instead of yet another Nexus, or even the surface of a comet, since we now have a good idea what one looks like? Still waiting for the genre smörgåsbord to top John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness, however.
Just when I thought I was out of weekly TV to watch with the end of Inspector Koo, they pull me back in with the next season! It’s a short one, unfortunately, but then again I’m grateful they don’t drag out the painful reign of the Belter egomaniac between the larger threat beyond the gates. There’s always something, right? I’m reminded of times when this nearest of futures was uncertain, but not only do the content providers always manage to come through, somehow, more miraculously, one of their committee-driven products gets me.Novels had a satisfying finish, thanks Libby! (I’m reminded of blowing through the Ice and Fire books on the Kindle, but the OLED screen’s a vast improvement, as fond are my memories of that device. The service-free unlimited Internet was not long for this world.) Looking back at them I can see the story arcs comprising the narrative of a game it was originally intended, with the player as Holden. An MMO might have had to delve into the 30-year gap or extend the war between universes, but that ending was straight outta Final Fantasy, tentacles and all.
Supposedly Gödel spotted a loophole in the Constitution that threatens our democracy, but as the writer notes, we’re long past it meaning anything to those who do. Speaking of whom, I wonder if the G.E.B. in that book 윤대섭 gave me at too early an age was any kind of inspiration for the B.E.R. of “The Night Begins to Shine” or is that too much a stretch even for my whimsies?
With cover art from “40%, 40%, “20%”, you’d think the band’s name was Sweet…
My habit of reaching for the phone upon waking and checking my latest messages, even with nothing more to them than the daily spam that’s swiped to the trash, seems to be affecting my recall of any richer narrative from the streaming service of my subconscious, but because there must be something to the lingering remnants, please indulge me tracking them here:
I was from the future, and as in that Bradbury story “A Sound of Thunder”, time travelers like me and former co-worker Karina had to keep to a path of shiny stones on the grounds of a party held at a fancy home in the country
A small white mouse presented itself as a pest, and as all I had was a plastic knife, I tried futilely stabbing it, then pressing it down with the blade, which only resulted in its body stretching unnaturally as it escaped, though each time it successfully did so, the poor thing appeared to be growing weaker
A previously unknown actor at a nearby table in the restaurant had just landed the role of Batman and we were congratulating him, recommending he prepare to be mobbed outside. Our group had to make do with Mr. Robot Rami Malek who himself had been cast in a smaller production as Nightwing
You would certainly hope it was the voice actor (who gives off a strong King vibe) or Pérez’s almost-as-old version revisited in the recent con episode, because I had the glorious girth from a more virile age underneath
Squid Game! The Among Us part of it, however, not the Fall Guys—I was dressed in the green track suit but wandering the “back end” and avoiding detection by the guards with some slick moves like waiting before stepping out of the elevator; in my arms was a child, and though I was able to get the family back together, the game masters blew up our house but I would survive by having been standing in the door frame and keep up the fight
The wife and son were in an SUV but it was a stick and she kept sliding back
A Flex Mentallo-looking villain with electrical superpowers was beset by a more than a dozen regular people with lesser ones, including Rick Moranis, and the sheer number of little shocks had him on the run; even his last-resort Zangief spinning fists held them at bay only because the low-budget special effect required everyone else to stay still while he was sped up
Fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV, which became a newer monitor mounted higher up and repeating a short speech by a topless redhead, but after so many plays 老婆 asked me to turn it off without noticing her, and stopping that one switched to another video with her cosplaying as Red Sonja
Woke up to news about someone dressed as the Joker stabbing passengers on a Tokyo subway, then dreamt about Rashida Jones as a female version of the character, with plenty of charisma, and a first-person perspective from a squad of armed law-enforcement agents descending upon her from the air
We were on our way out of a parking garage and the wife goes first, sliding down a passage to the lower levels, but lands on the concrete noticeably uncomfortably before getting up and continuing, while I was held up above by columns of sinewy shapes and a growing crowd of men, one of them a former co-worker I lost contact with and didn’t have time to catch up, though another fellow was causing trouble and prompted a gay slur
My father was driving us in the car and insisted we could make the tight corner down the stairs, but I doubted it and worried about getting stuck
Triggering my fear of heights as it did, I was fortunate enough to find myself already at the top of series of comically tall escalators and told Angie that we were at the highest point inside the vast marble-lined artificial cavern, though I could see others to the side taking people even further upward
Juan, who helped clean up the office and did odd jobs in the warehouse, retrieved my spiral notebook, which had at least one page of handwritten passwords, and couldn’t tell me specifically where he found it, despite my attempt to explain the security risk (and maybe offload some of it on him); meanwhile, Amit, who led IT at a later employer, asked me to assist him with a login issue unbecoming of his position, though jeopardizing all our company data with the janitor likewise reflected poorly on my worthiness
엄마 was more excited by the casting of 전도연 than in her new JTBC series 인간실격, but after the first week’s two episodes I fail to see the connection with the source material other than the title. Unless the story pivots back to the character who drowned (successfully, I might add) but otherwise wasn’t shown outside a few scenes to let his friends prepare his funeral, I doubt even the Cannes winner will reveal herself as Dazai’s hapless wretch.What’s more intriguing to me is that upon reading the original work—or revisiting it, I did dabble in this kind of thing in my late teens—how much I’m reminded by the narrator of 윤대섭’s own “negative man” concept; was this was his inspiration all along? Might have been Catcher in the Rye for 東大 students at the time.
We moved into a new house on 15070 Hazel St., from my memory of the new front door the wife ordered but for some reason left standing inside, white with shiny gold accents, including the slot for mail. Soon enough we’d discover why the previous owners were so eager to close: beneath the laminate wood was a green graboid-like monster, and a room connected to the entry opened to a vast underground facility. We fought off its breaches the first night and realized it had the magical ability to repair the floors, hiding evidence of its existence. I awoke on a makeshift island of blankets and flattened boxes and saw Sheila on the couch and asked how she had appeared seemingly overnight, or if we had been in Asia all along. And as unwise as it may have been under the circumstances, she invited over the entire family to assess the situation. I suggested using it to rescind the purchase, as surely this constituted an adequate failure to disclose. Hopping around in boxes kept our housemate from detecting our movements, as did traveling through the circuitous ventilation system suspended from the high ceiling. [That’s the best Eraserhead, Mountain Dew and The Silmarillion could concoct. Signs of water damage along the floorboards.]
Wife asked me about the bar (which I refuse to take unless I am allowed to in the afterlife) and I told her it was just the right amount of ambition, not too little that I threw my life away or so much that I made many times what her company might have paid, to put me on a career path to her, like the book—or was it an episode of the Twilight Zone—I remember from my youth with pictures of the earth freezing and burning if it were only the slightest bit further from or closer to the sun. Roots of Intelligent Design for some, perhaps. She looked flustered by my response, which I still felt was such a brilliant one that when 남재 woke up in a bed in the room, I had to tell him he missed out on it. He’d be my first choice on LINE when I woke up at 3am.
An obvious by-product of the son’s interest in Scooby Doo and our recent viewings of live-action adaptations, the proprietor had been conducting some ghastly rituals, and once I learned of them, I returned with a sample leech the shape and size of an orange slice under a form-fitting plastic case and explained to her, squeezing it to reveal its jaws, that he was reviving the dead whose souls had been sucked out of them. She turned and quite effortlessly removed a giant specimen hanging on the towel rack like a lei and tossed it aside.
We congregated in the hall where the madness was at work, and saw an animated scene that seemed to depict his machinations, while staying safe in shower-like alcoves. The wooden floors were giving way, I surmised, as a result of the damage being done to reality. My cousin and Rebecca looked on as my indiscernible companion began choking, her mouth ballooned and I desperately tried compressing her chest from behind. Her ribs converged to a single bilateral ridge and her lips pursed as I continued helplessly, regretting my past decisions.
Novels had a satisfying finish, thanks Libby! (I’m reminded of blowing through the Ice and Fire books on the Kindle, but the OLED screen’s a vast improvement, as fond are my memories of that device. The service-free unlimited Internet was not long for this world.) Looking back at them I can see the story arcs comprising the narrative of a game it was originally intended, with the player as Holden. An MMO might have had to delve into the 30-year gap or extend the war between universes, but that ending was straight outta Final Fantasy, tentacles and all.
What’s more intriguing to me is that upon reading the original work—or revisiting it, I did dabble in this kind of thing in my late teens—how much I’m reminded by the narrator of 윤대섭’s own “negative man” concept; was this was his inspiration all along? Might have been Catcher in the Rye for 東大 students at the time.
