A caesura is worth six sentences.
1.) "Moving on always means leaving something behind."
2.) This blog is almost a year old; the blogger, backspaced, almost two.
3.) When you treat your writing like your child, you find out how bad a parent you can turn out to be.
4.) Those who should care don't.
5.) Finding the right way to say goodbye is like eating a dictionary and still feeling hungry afterwards.
6.) I won't be posting entries here anymore.
Word transplant somewhere in blog. Guess the donor.
My pedestrian preoccupation with politics has sputtered and fizzled out quite a long time ago - somewhere between getting my first white hair and falling for a man who loves popping candy, I guess. It has since faded into the annals of my extended adolescence, a chapter that is redolent of wayward idealism and bourgeois reasoning. A typical case of disillusionment? Perhaps. Or maybe stuff has happened and subliminally revealed to me that, poof!, I'm done raving and raging into the night. *shrug*
What I do know for sure is that I don't know whether to rejoice or mourn the fact that I...
More theater dregs
Megalomaniac and megachiropterian in his ways, Bruce Wayne/Batman as a cartoon character has never won my admiration before. And while I can't say Christopher Nolan's "elemental" figure has captured my fancy, it certainly has raised my opinion of the proverbial Dark Knight quite substantially.
A savvy no longer sickening is what Christian Bale brings into the role. Larger than life (but still no better than it), he fleshes out the black suit (yeah, minus the offending nipples) with a convoluted reality that this moviegoer can certainly appreciate. That he gets cuts and bruises and sleeps...
Theater dregs
So I saw Episode III with a friend last week (after everyone else has seen it and gone blechhh).
Fifteen minutes into the movie, my stomach started churning (I had tacos earlier). This general discomfort, along with the fact that they were making a gullible invertebrate out of a yummy Hayden Christensen onscreen, left me with a not-so-pleasant impression about the film...
I was no Star Wars fan. Except for a hazy memory of furry Ewoks, my exposure to the hit series ranked a little above nil. Asked about what I thought of The Revenge of the Sith, all I could come up with were some...
