FISH-SLAPPING DANCE

Michael Rennie was there The Day the Earth Stood Still, as we know, and not Keanu Reeves. Apart from grave concerns about a mother who leaves her first born in the care of a homeless stranger, I prefer it to the remake by millions. Except that there are few commonalities to compare, really. So I watched Michael Rennie save us all from ourselves.

Watched Berserk on and off; it can run for days and weeks without pause.

Watched Evil Dead, Dead by Dawn, and Army of Darkness. I love these three movies, as terrible as they are. They’re wonderful. [I loved Hercules, TLJ, too. I used to watch Xena, but never really liked it nearly as much as Herc.]

Watched Dead Man. Just moving art, isn’t it? I love it. There are times I wish for colour, for the landscapes, but I’ll never get enough of this movie. It’s like a painting you hang on the wall for years and never tire of seeing.

Watched Reservoir Dogs, and Inglourious Basterds, and The Great Dictator.

Also watched All Quiet on the Western Front. I've never seen the 1930 original, I must. And a remake is in production for 2012. I wanted to move about after that, but ended up putting on Eric the Viking because AQotWF makes me so sad.

I will have to watch some more Python now and reaffirm the knowledge that no matter how bleak and hopeless the world looks, it is really just a big mass of total absurdity and nothing to be worried about. In any melting pot the dross floats to the top; the thick shit at the bottom gets burned; most people are blind men patting elephants and holding forth on the result; and interdependence is a dirty word when everyone is so damnably accomplished.

I have some kippers – it’s time to dance.

Meanwhile, authors out there who are looking for some coverage, Essie Holton is considering some author interviews on her review site. If you would like your indie book reviewed, and to have a chat about the hows, whys, and wherefores - here's your chance. Or go along and have a look at some of the great titles out and about that you might have missed.

Letitia had a shot at reviewing for the promise of gold but under yet another nom de plume. I think she is better sticking to babble. Reviewers need a big clap; it isn't easy. It's a role which will come to the fore more as the independence movement in digital fiction progresses. Those readers with real insight and the ability to summarize a book reliably for the wider audience will emerge with great power. All hail the powerful.

Meek, you will have to wait until you inherit the earth, I'm afraid.

I must share the terrible shock I had this week when I was forced to recall the 60s and 70s in style and decor. If any period in the history of the world should be stricken from the records, it's that decade. Well, 15-20 yrs really, but the world always hits its straps for best and worst in the 5-5 years. 1965-1975,  uggghghghhhg.

Moulded plastic furniture and shiny clothes that melted on your skin if you went too near a candle. Colours like mustard (baby poo), tangerine and burnt orange, lime green, mission brown, acid yellow. Light blue shimmer eye shadow, beehives and Osti patio frocks, white shag pile rugs, everything circles and holes and MODERN. Help, my skin is crawling away. Plastic. Plastic. Ewwww. Plastic jewellery! Plastic sofas. Bas relief matadors and geometric design curtains still lurking in forgotten caravans. MARBLECRAFT! K Tel record selector.

I need a Bex and a little lie down.

Then back to my dancing!

Lxx