aruan: (Star Trek - we've got a badass over here)
The prole finally got to see what set the world on fire last week, and sadly it was not The Hobbit, which aside from Martin Freeman's Bilbo and Richard Armitage as Thorin Oakenshield fell way short of The Lord of the Rings' high bar. Which is as patently unfair a comparison as it was inevitable, and Warner Brothers have no one to blame but themselves for forcing what was intended to be a two-part movie to stretch into a third. )

tl;dr I defer to the NYTimes: "Tolkien’s inventive, episodic tale of a modest homebody on a dangerous journey has been turned into an overscale and plodding spectacle."

So let's focus on the good! Those of us who grudgingly shelled out $44 for IMAX tickets and dragged along a husband who gets headaches from 3D got to see the first nine minutes of Star Trek: Into Darkness, which was categorically AMAZEBALLS.

Detailed summary including confirmed spoilers beloooooow! )
aruan: (Iron Man - hello Tony)
I have a new buddy in the Arabian sandbox, [personal profile] khaleesian, who quotes everyone from Tennyson to Tupac and has Russian talent, whatever that might entail, at her disposal. Scary and smart! And excited about things like driving a car and living in more than 850 square feet after several years in London, so I really ought to stop harshing her buzz. It'll be all mint lime juices and balmy summer nights from here on out, promise.

We met up to see This Means War last weekend, and honestly I think the movie would have a higher rating on Rotten Tomatoes (26%) if it had been marketed to the right audience. Which as far as I can tell are slash fans and social anthropologists. )

Basically, we spent the film alternating between:


and


Ah, Benedict Cumberbatch. Truly a man for all seasons.
aruan: (maybe this is the time I won't)
The tragedy of my past 12 hours in SMS format. For the record, the two of us who had read all the Twilight books tried to talk the rest of the Bad Movie Club out of this particular feature.

Straight male friend CC: [Male friend GC] just came up with a dastardly plan that rivals anything ra one had to face : breaking dawn at midnight tomorrow . Whos in ?
Me: Why does [GC] hate us? Ps of course I'm there
CC: Meet at K mall . Trembling with anticipation
Me: Is it just you me and [GC]? If yes we should make him pay for our tix as emotional compensation
CC: I owe him a tic since I lost a football bet .
Me: I swore I wouldn't even see this movie so he wil def owe me one by the end of the night
CC: If "if "its bad
Me: Of all the nights in this world I need you to be a straight man tonight and hate this movie as much as it deserves
CC: But there are 'wolves ' and lautners
Me: Ok yes we can all swoon over Taylor lautner but everything else will be horrifying emotional trash
CC: Inshallah
Me: Aren't you supposed to have good taste in movies or did we send a closeted teenage girl to Cannes?
CC: Abu dhabi is like Chinatown : it changes you
Me: I just need to make sure you're not expecting this movie to be anything but a massive train wreck. I'm trying to booze it up over wine and cheese enough to get through it but there will be bitching and I need a bitching receptacle

...

12:08am Facebook check-in: Goddamn it [CC], I wasn't even supposed to see Breaking Dawn, let alone at a midnight premier. -with CC, CG, CB and HA
12:45am Oh god so much worse than you could imagine lock up your daughters.
1:10am This movie is using chess as a direct metaphor for sex and making me neither want to play chess nor have sex again.
1:27am As emotionally gratuitous as the first three movies were, none of it compares to this drivel. Convinced they're emotionally blackmailing the audience to stick it out through the incoherence to come.
2:17am [GC] blames his high five with Steven Seagal at the F1 race for wanting to see this movie. Meanwhile [CC] wished for shirtless werewolves at least five times, and my brain just wants a loofah to scrub it all away.
2:40am CB: It's too late ... we have to see Part 2 ... Part 1 has imprinted on us.

Lesson: Remember kids, high-fiving Steven Seagal can transmit the irrepressible desire to see bad movies. Don't do it, no matter how cool a story it'll make the next day.
aruan: (did I leave the artifact on?)
I don't have anything intelligent to say about the X-Men reboot, other than it was an excellent film on proper film merits, because I'm still flailing about trying to textually render all the ways in which James McAvoy is amaaaaaaazing. [GLOM]

Oh, and... )
aruan: (saved the world today)
They either cause endless agonizing or picking what's in the player right now.
A little behind, so a two-fer today:

Day 2: Favorite Movie What does that mean? Is it the movie I watch the most? Because that, embarrassingly enough, would be either Robin Hood: Men in Tights or Bridget Jones' Diary. Is it the movie I recommend to anyone who hasn't seen it? That's Fight Club. Because of the amazing experience I had in the theater, Scream 2 (used a fake ID because I was 15 and it's rated R!) and The Empire Strikes Back (when Han and Leia walk into the conference room on Bespin and Vader is sitting at the end of the table, I learned not to trust seemingly good guys) are up there. But I don't have a movie that speaks to my soul, as it were. When I'm happy, it's You've Got Mail or Beetlejuice. When I need cheering up, Men in Black or Beverly Hills Cop III (the rescue on the Spider is still the best action sequence ever!) usually does the trick. Basically, I like movies, but don't ask me to reduce Hollywood to a single title.

Day 3: Favorite TV show Much easier. On the air: 30 Rock. Off the air: Battlestar Galactica. No contest.

Thanks to a last-minute ticket (Dubizzle FTW) I got to see a tennis match between David Ferrer and some guy who's supposed to be the best who's ever played the sport. I think his name is Roger something?

Maybe you will recognize him: )

Yeah, no, I can't actually downplay my enthusiasm. The seat was as nosebleed as you could get, but Federer put on an excellent show. It's like he emits some sort of anti-gravity aura, he just kind of hangs in the air and seems to get across the court faster than possible. Ferrer got his shots in, but he was way outmatched, running all over the court and unable to return a lot of what was served to him. Also, watching tennis with a live crowd is pretty cool - the energy of the place ratchets up the longer a point goes on.
aruan: (saving the universe in style since 1967)
Dear JJ Abrams,

Please to be making more Star Trek movies ANY TIME, preferably very soon. Also, tell Zachary Quinto my husband is willing to share.

xoxo,
-Jules
aruan: (saving the universe in style since 1967)
So I'm skimming a year's worth of fannish backlog like you do sometimes, and in the midsts of all the moot discussions about where fandom could flee and end-of-HP wank, I found this pseudo-meme (the kind that a single person originates as a random thought and others join in through comments) about media quotes that have stuck with you. And I'm really not in the proper fannish mindset to remember the nuances that become fodder for epics and in-jokes and generally up one's street cred, but I do still love fandom and media even all the way out here and just thinking about it while walking down the street makes me smile. So, list. )

Anyone else?
aruan: (dumbdumbdumb)
They had Capt. Jack Sparrow, pirate lore, a trip to the underworld with an undead pirate guide, a wacky psychic, a smart ambiguously amorous heroine, and STILL managed to screw it all up (and assassinate most everyone's character along the way.)

Tharrr be spoilers here. )

Otherwise, the plot was a poor mash-up at best (the Orlando Sentinel called it "a misshapen mess," and I agree), the costuming and sets were predictably beautiful (as was the cast), and I could not have been more disappointed by it all.
aruan: (Default)
Except for a town-wide conspiracy to not feed us, a great time was had in Gainesville yesterday. The crew of Chop Stix turned out to be on vacation for a month, Dragonfly didn’t open until 5 p.m. (and Brandon is friends with the head sushi chef, too! Curses!) and Harry’s is undergoing major renovations, so we settled for On the Border’s spicy salsa and tasty Margaritas. It’s kind of embarrassing how little alcohol it takes to make me grabby and talkative.

But we had fun the whole way. Our musical tastes clash only about a fifth of the time, so the five hours of driving weren’t an issue at all (however, for the record, Central Florida is SO MUCH WEIRDER than you think. We’re making the trip again sometime soon just to take photos to prove it.) Amber had her way with my hair, which looks adorable once more – totally worth the drive. Had coffee with [livejournal.com profile] krissi518 and her fiancé, plus a couple of Brandon’s friends, at Maude’s, though good god with the mosquitos and a sad lack of ceramic mugs. We were even jumped and foisted gelato upon on the corner of Starbucks by a lovely girl from a new little shop a block away. Mmm, coconut.

As for the evening’s feature presentation, Pirates... )

Brandon also slept over for the first time last night. I’d never slept slept with someone I was also sleeping with (oh, idioms), and can now see both the benefits and pitfalls of such an arrangement. However, waking up this morning was worth it, but I’ve made an executive decision to spare you the particulars of my sex life.
aruan: (saving the universe in style since 1967)
Journal redesign strife. )

So, hey, I graduated college! Not that the whole renting a cap and gown, sitting through a long, boring ceremony, walking across a stage, shaking hands with the two people I would've been content to never meet, then bounce between two sets of relatives thing didn't feel real enough. But my diploma arrived in Saturday's mail. Really, by itself it was a fairly forlorn and unimpressive piece of parchment paper. But then I put it in the frame my mom got, and all of a sudden it's this official, regal document wrapped in mahogany that says thing like The University of Florida has conferred on and bachelor of science and all the rights and privileges thereunto appertaining, two of which I didn't even know were actual words, and upon recommendation of the faculty of the College of Journalism and Communications. I'm a journalist, y'all, a whole college's worth of faculty say so! It was neat, I had to swipe at my cheek a little while holding up the final result. It's such a satisfying thing, to be that much closer to the person I've always wanted to be.

Sports Editor Ted is likely a lost cause, Copy Editor Brandon and I have started to bond over questionable foods, and why I love working for Metro Editor Billy. )

Hitting up MegaCon in Orlando on Sunday was a neat little time warp exercise in remembering middle school, but otherwise largely unproductive. What's with the dearth of Stargate swag in the world? However, there was soft-serve ice cream and John Schneider (Bo Kent, as we call him down on the farm) juggling. He looked really ridiculously good, tan, longer hair with blondish highlights, fantastically fitting shirt, laughing and jumping around with fans. There was also driving with the top down in gorgeous, breezy weather, which meant not even getting a half hour's worth of lost dampened my spirits. And at the end of the day, I do have an Atlantis mission patch to sew on the ass of my favorite jeans.

The real reason for my lack of updates is that I've been reading SGA fic like a fiend. Came across something incredibly depressing the other day involving John and Rodney living to be old enough to retire from the Atlanis mission. They had bought a house by the ocean and Rodney swung a puddlejumper for the garage, and it was so hard to read. I don't even mean the fact that the likelihood of them living that long is infinitesimal, but the idea of wanting to preserve some pale shadow of the lives they'd led. Anyone who's ever lived knows the impossibility of recreating anything, a moment, a place, a memory. None of it will be perfect, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

As I fall deeper into the television abyss thanks to the DVR... )

And it's officially at the point where I'm making a list of things I have in my refrigerator as opposed to things I need. To Publix it is.

Quotes )
aruan: (Default)
WEEKEND
[insert griping about getting up at 8 a.m. but rewarding experience of tending a class of reporting students here] Skipping along on the record, I made a good show of studying before my French test at 3 p.m., which ended up being the easiest we've had all semester, glory be.

A feasible look at abortion )

After all that, we caught Corpse Bride, about which I have exactly one thing to say: I saw this movie better and with more compelling songs and characters when it was Nightmare Before Christmas. Seriously, all my love to Tim Burton, but he ought to be feeling the gritty nasties of self-plagiarism right just now. I was downright bored and would rather have watched Nightmare for the hundredth time, alas.

Saturday was a whole lot of lounging around before heading to Best Buy, where it took no time at all to distract me thoroughly from the task at hand by the laid-out Dance Dance Revolution mat. Did you know one 1:30 song burns only 12 or so calories? Scandal! But still inarguably fun, even if my prowess is distinctly in the past.

SUNDAY
By no fair turn of time, the weekend was again over, and to a huge paper and still no canceled school. The Editorial Board concurred that a good minimum fifth of the school's population won't be thinking about anything academic tomorrow and that the university should recognize this for those who need or want to skip town to help their families through the, you know, Category 3 hurricane. But in thanks to the largest Sunday budget I've ever seen, timely budgeting and decent story flow, we got to keep our anxieties focused.

MONDAY
Hurricane update )

Features Editor Neil and I debated people who like The Who because of Limp Bizkit's cover of Behind Blue Eyes. He's one of those who begrudges that Harry Potter got kids reading and people who get their music education from popular culture. I say if you discover Jimi Hendrix through P.Diddy, good for you. Your ability to extract quality from crap is no less merit-worthy than taking the hypotenuse of adopting your parents' tastes or spending all your allowance at used records stores.

Finally, beginning tonight, I leave you with this:

AP Photo of the Day )

Because really, what else is there to do?

Also, a parting thanks to Duran Duran for rescuing me from the chorus of Personal Jesus as the last strains of Too Much Information play me off the stage.

TUESDAY
So, I knew she was ineffectual and patronizing, but apparently my former feature writing teacher is also batshit insane. Also, incapable of spelling and, as most crazy people, overly fond of rampant capitalization. Good god. )

Other than that, it was the sort of weather today that truly makes you feel lucky to be alive just to breathe it in. Even justified wearing a scarf!

Got through to my family in West Palm Beach... )

After attempting an existential cigarette at the downtown Starbucks, I went to campus to talk to McKeen about the abortion story. Freakishly enough, three steps from my car I ran into Mike, and together we went to the notorious third-floor Student Government offices because I was feeling cheeky and wanted a stress ball. Well, despite having paid my Activity & Service fees for ten semesters so far, Student Body Vice President Joyce Medina, as in the one SG Reporter David would sooner slit his wrists than call for comment, told me in no uncertain or civil terms that if I want one, then come to an SG event. She didn't recognize me but said to Mike, "Why are you always making trouble?" Seriously, aside from the world-class bitchery, she had no grounds to deny my request for swag I've already paid for, and we requested the public records that may state otherwise, but mostly, I'm going to write a column and demand she give me one personally if that is in fact the policy.

Joe Goldberg eventually came out of his office to see what the commotion was about and invited us back. It's... a lot smaller than I thought, which is so fitting I had to bite my lip to keep the giggles at bay. Met some more of our regular cast of characters, including Tom Philpot and Adelle Fontanet, the bisexual Pride exec who didn't know who Kevin Bacon was when she started dating our own student Sen. Kevin Bacon.

Photo, mais oui. )
aruan: (Sinfest - not hell just hype)
If updating while drunk is hard, trying to not die from each report of the keyboard because one's head is already a massive hangover-induced ache is next to impossible. Blargh. It was just beer! Granted it was a lot, but I drank water like I'm supposed to. We even had 5 a.m. breakfast at Waffle House! Mmm, pecan waffle.

Ahem. In any event, Friday lab was largely pleasant, with my minder showing a penchant for South Park, though she did consider making Cartman the FAA spokesman, so the extent of her knowledge is debatable. But the kids in there just don't seem to be learning what I've told them at least twice. No specifics in the lead, especially names unless the person has public figure status. Make them single sentences. Attribute properly. Basic stuff. And yet, here we are.

Mike and I blew off the world that afternoon to see Thumbsucker. I need to remember that indie, quirky cinema is not for me, even if it does have Vincent D'Onofrio, Keanu Reeves and Tilda Swinton in it. It's somewhat ironic, unless that was the point, that the character I walked away understanding the least was the lead. It's also interesting that I have the opposite philosophy with regard to my cinema - escapism - than fanfic - realism. In the theater, I like the improbable; in fic, I demand grounding in canon for events and characterizations. Hm.

Saturday was a mess of South Park. We officially have all but maybe two or three of my favorite episodes on the DVR, making investment in a writer imperative. That show is amazingly clever, just weird, offensive, relevant, petty, hilarious, horrifying, delightfully depressing and smart, in turns and, of course, in their own ways. Guilty pleasures include The Losing Edge, Good Times With Weapons, Raisins, Fat Butt and Pancake Head, and You Got F*ucked in the Ass but even then, there's almost always something redeeming about the episode.

In alarming technological news, if commercials are to be believed, there's now a car out there (sorry, can't find a link for the life of me and don't remembr the make/model) that calls up your service shop when it has a problem. Big Brother liek woah. Also, this. Me and robots, man. The wax sculptures at Madame Tussaud's were freaky enough, but to have them move and talk? [meep]

I work at the Alligator, as you may have heard. )

I crawled unwillingly from my bed at 2 p.m. but only until I got to the sofa and found Down With Love had just started on Cinemax. Frankly, everyone I lamentably listened to who didn't outright love this movie was smoking the bad crack. Ewan McGregor owns a piece of my soul, he truly does, especially when he sings. Though Renee Zellwegger was outacted at a few turns, which is dumbfounding, the plot was genius, the execution delightful, and the resolution on point. It's smart, funny, and (ultimately) escapes the misogenism underlying so many romantic comedies.

As far as the rest of the night, in brief as that is all it deserves, Opinions Editor Emily has a management concern to discuss, she should do it with an iota of maturity and ask Mike and I into his office rather than pitch a loud hissy fit in the middle of the newsroom. Grr. Especially if she's going to make false accusations and suggest that changing a letter-writer's point is better than taking out the letter without consulting her. Also, news needs to not happen after budget, but if it must, please do so before 9 p.m. so we can write a reasonable story and pull and stretch content like so much warm taffy to make it fit, because at 10:30, it would take the falling of all the stars above to make some such thing happen.

Have I mentioned the mouse that lives in the Alligator production office? It ventures out occasionally - Mike claims to have seen it in his office - but it's of frightening proportions if the amount of noise it makes scurrying above the ceiling panels are any indication.

In conclusion, as well as a fit of unfathomable shallowness, has it been mentioned that the Japanese prime minister is a very handsome man? Ditto for Tony Blair, who also wears great ties. Mmm, politicians. And wow have I got to be warped to say that. In that same fit of impropriety, insert your own quips here (by the way, the fourth image result from my Google image search of Tony Blair turned up a manip of him kissing Dubya. Heh. But I mean, when they're this happy to see each other, the stuff kind of writes itself.)

EDIT: Wow. If that's not a classic clandestine moment, I don't know what is. Also, Bwah! A government-issue cotillion! [heart]

SON OF EDIT: Why is this new to me? [dies]

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