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And There's Just Too Many Movies in the World Today

There's media and then there's media. The past year, I've been knee-deep in a quagmire of geek-related media that, while entertaining, lacks that certain air of distinguished intelligent accomplishment that makes snooty people wriggle in their seats with joy because lo and behold, something new exists what they can talk for hours about while the rest of their more pedestrian acquaintances sit slack-jawed (bonus points if they yawn). Forget that most of the Satoshi Kon anime I have actually requires one to think, or that Trainspotting is an adaptation of a good book with the additional detrimental bonus of actually seeing Ewan McGregor's flaccid penis in action; everything that is eating up space in my laptop's fragile and overflowing bowels is almost brainless media.

It's all fun, of course. I love the way the story plays out in Paradise Kiss, or how The Hakkenden masks a gorefest with the pretensions of being an historical study of Japanese literary history. Both the recent Batman and Superman movies were really worth a geekgasm or two, any Jack Black and Jackass movie is a laugh waiting to happen, and I have been hooked to Naruto and Bleach because the shonen in me is screaming for more sauce. Bandwidth has become my best friend since I rubbed lips with Smart's demon of a DSL service, and I can't say that I've been regretting it.

But sometimes, you look at the stacks of hardcore literature that you have in your library, and you start thinking that a very small part of you misses thinking.

I first got that feeling when I revisited Multiplex, and read about Terry Gilliam's film Brazil. I immediately downloaded the movie, and while I haven't seen it yet due to the backlog of media that I have lying in wait like a horde of blood-hungry swine, I did get to download Trainspotting and Thank you for Smoking, two awesome films that didn't get enough publicity - or air - here in the metro.

I compiled a list of the media that, through serendipity or otherwise, I recently had the good fortune of finding. Mind that most of these aren't exactly the most up-to-date and consumer-friendly bits of entertainment, but it wouldn't be as much fun if everybody got it, now would it?


: Trainspotting
This rambunctious, blasphemous, fucked-up coming-of-age film not only features the four greatest hedonistic faults of your average teen-ager - these being sex, drugs, alcohol and stupidity - but also the hot and happening bodies of a thinner Ewan McGregor and a sultry, twenty-year old Kelly McDonald, who is the very definition of sex. I know that this film is more than a decade old, but I put off viewing / reading Irvine Welsh's first novel since I'm a lazy butt.

: A Clockwork Orange
I haven't seen the film, actually. It has been queued, however, and is waiting for me to feast my eyes on all the Stanley Kubrick goodness it has to offer. I loved the book - I'm sure I'll achieve full orgasm with the movie.

: Thank You for Smoking
Okay, plot-wise, this film isn't necessarily a movie for the smarts, as with most of Hollywood's films. But spin doctors make amazing social subjects, and Katie Holmes has hot legs.

: McSweeney's
The one-stop solution for all your literary hunger pangs. It really takes a bit of mental (and nonsensical) effort to enjoy this little treasure, but suffice it to say that Cholo did me a favor when he introduced me to this site.

: Piling Piling Pelikula
This man reviews movies that I didn't even know existed. I almost didn't see Trainspotting, I almost missed 2046, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let crap like that happen again. I look forward to seeing his reviews in the future, and watching the films he deems as "sensational."


In other news, I've recently begun walking for about an hour for my daily cardiovascular exercise. My route starts at Narciso, where I start a steady trot to Inviernes. From there, I slow down while walking to Pedro Gil, due to the rather pitiful sidewalks along that thoroughfare, getting back up to speed once I hit Herran. Then it's a walking race to Quirino Avenue, with a slight depression in speed as I pass Concordia College because women in uniform rock. From Quirino it's a straight walk through to Quirino extension, then I slow down as I hit Otis, since that area is a muddy stretch of road, and I hate it when my shoes are caked with mud.

If you're ever up at around 7am with nothing to do, feel free to join me. You could treat me to my morning fix of pan de coco.


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