It is so hard to get motivated when the work that needs to be done
is so, so boring. Generating functions and breadth-first
sorting. Dijkstra’s Algorithm. This stuff is, despite my complaints,
really fun stuff, and normally I enjoy it, but at this point enough
is enough. Enough is luxuriantly decadent. I wallow in the crapulent
excess that is “enough”.
Arlene has gone back to Toronto, and as always our time has been
far, far too short. The clever schemes that we have come up with
to overcome this extremely-sucky part of the relationship, such as
bringing each other back with us in oversized duffel bags, hiding
out in each other’s closets or instantaneous intercity travel via
the DK64 “Bananaporter” have proven unfeasable. I’m going to have
to stick to my original two-part plan, which involves sucking it
up and not whining like a damn teenager.
One thing that happened this weekend was that in lieu of going out
to see a James Bond movie, I stayed home and made a very similar
Now, I grew up reading comic books, and it’s been a great
disappointment to me to find out that my great hero, who
I still want to grow up to be, was the subject of a
truly terrible movie. It probably can’t be helped. Making
books comic or otherwise into movies has become, with
exceptions, roughly equivalent to composting them. What you
started with hardly matters; the end product is inevitable. Movies
have the added benefit of charging you five bucks for a
coke while you’re there, though. Woo.
I’ve always been a fan of the kind of hero who has to work for his
edge. Let’s face it, Superman has it pretty easy; all he’s got to
worry about is fragments of his long-lost home planet, so if you
haven’t got a fairly rare, green-glowing brand of asteroid handy by
you can shoot him in the head with a diamond-tipped cruise missile
and cause him about the same discomfort you’d cause if you took his
parking spot. Hell, he usually doesn’t even tear his tights; for
the most part Superman engages in his heroism secure in a freedom
from personal consequence. That’s not heroism, really; Superman’s
just a dilettante, and it’s hard to feel too much sympathy for a
guy whose only real concern is that Lois Lane might find out he’s
not really an awkwardly bespectacled dork.
No, I’ve always admired the guys who have something on the line
when they put their thing down. Guys like Daredevil or Batman,
who get beat down every now and then and come back to work the next
day anyway, because for whatever reason, they have to. That, to me,
has always been the real deal. That and the being able to stick to
So in short, I was really disappointed to find out that the
new Spiderman movie sucked. This is part of a long line of
Spiderman-related movies (and TV shows, and books, and…) that have
sucked, so I really should have known, but I had big dreams.
It turns out that when you break them, big dreams leave big
shards. That movie truly sucked. The dream is dead. I have no desire
at all now to grow up into a badly-drawn CGI character with with
crappy dialogue and a spineless simp of a secret identity. They
animated Spiderman using the same motion model they used for Woody
from Toy Story, for crying out loud. Why the hell would they do a
thing like that?
Oh, well. At least the Incredible Hulk movie is coming out in a
while. This might assuage my inner comic reader a bit; even though
Spidey is out of the question, I do still want to periodically turn
green and crush those who enrage me.