I'll Say They Are
Being the courteous and upstanding citizen that I am, I have returned the favor by linking Omnimatic blog by some dude called Bill. You can check it out if you want to, but beware the poo. That's all I'm saying.

Had Bill not left a comment I would not have known to reciprocate the link. If you read this blog and have linked it on your own but are crippled by some kind of internet text-only version of Social Anxiety Disorder rendering you physically unable to leave a comment, I can't be held responsible for not returning the favor. If you can somehow fight through the panic attack and say something, I will be happy to add you to the Roll of Perpetual Annoyance of blogs I read. I can guarantee persistently and consistently snarky and unhelpful commentary completely inappropriate to your needs or sensibilities. I cannot, however, guarantee that you won't be mocked by my regular readers. They're a ravenous, pitiless bunch of malcontents. If they weren't, what would they be doing here?

OK, business handled. For today I would like to point out that my wife is on vacation, which means I'm on vacation. She feels just guilty enough about leaving everyday to go to work that she insists on doing the annoying things I usually do, such as diaper changing and driving the oldest to school while I laze under the spell of Somnus, snoring like a vibrator on a cookie sheet.

Since she was here, I was able to sneak out and go to a movie. She got to take the oldest to see The Incredibles a few weeks ago as it was justifiably her turn (I had taken the boy to see Saw which in retrospect may have been a miscalculation). Being the petulant spoiled child I am, I insisted on getting the chance to see it myself and went just this morning.

I would like first to say categorically that going to the movies by oneself is not pathetic. It isn't. OK, it might be, but to hell with you all and your "rules". I have children.

As for the film, it may be the best movie I've ever seen. It was beautiful to look at, well paced and plotted, flawlessly animated and shimmering with socially critical undertones beneath the hero-action-flick veneer. It was a fantastic film-going experience.

I do acknowledge, however, that my opinion may be suspect. I get out so rarely that when I do, I tend to get a little excited. I remember being equally effusive about the Hugh Grant-Jeanne Tripplehorn-James Caan Trifecta of Suckitude Mickey Blue Eyes. It is an opinion I have since reconsidered.

This movie, The Incredibles, though may actually have been good. Now nearly an hour since I left the theater, I have no buyer's-remorse related side effects as yet. By that, of course, I mean shame. And the watering eyes. And the abdomnial cramping. And the blood in the stool. Ah, you all know what I'm talking about. I'm sure it happens to everyone.

I would give it a catchy, easily remembered rating based on stars or letter-grades or the extension of one of my extremities to denote inclination/disinclination, but I don't want to press my luck. Next thing I know people will be trying to judge this thing based on some faux-objective scale and I don't think my ego could take it. Glass house, stones, you know...


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 9.5


Pops

- posted by Pops @ 1:32 PM