Wearing my pants on sale today, and they make me feel just a bit thinner than usual. Which is nice.
Spent most of last night reading Stephen King's Dreamcatcher right now. I'm reading it fast and with little attention to detail. Especially the details involving the aliens that fart out of people's asses. In the end, the scariest thing about the book so far is that someone read it and thought it'd make a good movie.
(Ten guesses what my next Bookslut column is about. I hope to make "What In The Hell Happened Here?" a recurring series.)
In the media-I-can-recommend section, I saw The Safety of Objects on Wednesday, and there's an awful lot to like about it. Well-adapted from a book of short stories, a great cast, and written and directed by Rose Troche (support your women directors!), it's a sweet, lyrical quality that can even make a radio station car contest timeless and ethereal, combined with a dash of American Beauty-esque warped suburbia humor that blended nicely. Some nice examples of abbreviated storytelling, with an elegant use of ellipses around action, and intercutting implemented to bring together the many disparate storylines. It all comes together nicely in the end, and the underlying theme resonates surprisingly strong, given the writing and directing's light touch. The only scene that really bugged me was The Big Emotional Climax (it seemed overly obvious and, at the same time, not quite believable) - but I was able to forgive it that one flaw.
Good drama, overall. Give it a shot.
New Wonderfalls tonight, and I'm gonna TiVo tomorrow's reairing of Century City, just so that I can see one episode before letting it go. After all, it's Future Law! Law of the Future! I'm excited for it.
Plus, Sopranos and Alias on Sunday, on top of the premiere of Deadwood, which I'm gonna give a shot. I've been in a western-digging groove of late, and whores with guns are always appealing.
Maybe I just miss Firefly. Maybe more than a little.