Plus, I fucking love that theme song.
Up late doing what?
Watching “Speed Racer.”
Yeah, people hated it.
I’m not one? It was cheesy, so so cheesy. Far from a cinematic masterpiece.
But the Wachowskis wanted cartoon and damnit, they brought it.
There was some innovative cinematography happening there, as a way of propelling narrative and just so many other interesting things going on.
Part of its appeal, to me anyway, was certainly how close it came to caricature at times. Just like cartoons. And I really just think they captured Speed & Co. really well.
Plus, Emile Hirsch just looked the fucking part. So did Christina Ricci.
Wait. Edit. Hold on. Looking at some of these edits, and remembering this storyline - maybe the critics are kinda just haters?
I’ll admit that it isn’t the best thing I’ve ever seen, but a lot of people seemed to be pissy about the edit and I mean, just because Speed Racer isn’t giving you a traditional continuity edit and the frame plays around with space and time, doesn’t mean you should automatically dismiss a film.
That’s what I really hate about the state of mainstream cinema today. Yes, a lot of filmmakers have done very innovative things with the continuity edit, but many movies distributed and created for mainstream viewing that have not adhered to the classical hollywood form has failed, and failed miserably.
Was Speed Racer veering into avant-garde territory (not only in cinematography, but in content) what made it such a commerical failure?
So, it’ll be a slow week for this “posting daily” thing I’ve gotten into the habit of.
Because I’m planning things.
And I’m catching up with people.
And I need to unplug for a little bit ?
Sometimes, especially with me, that’s necessary. Because if given the option, I will just like withdraw into myself and not talk to people (family exempt) for a long stretch of time.
So this is me, attempting to get better at one of those things I said I’d get better at.
I feel a little guilty for not posting today, but that’s because I haven’t really had anything to say.
I didn’t really feel well today, I eventually ended up watching “The Hobbit” with my sister (her call, not mine - so proud!), watching the playoff games (disappointed in OKC tonight), and just nursing this headache.
Anything I’ve written today has been a tad bit on the fictional side. Not that I mind posting fiction on this blog - it’s my blog, I do whatever the fuck I want - but it’s (mostly) either fandom related, or long-form shit that is nowhere near completion.
Aka - not worthy of the “publish” button.
Idk, hopefully tomorrow I can get back on the ball.
But when I’m feeling sick or something, I crawl into the comfort of my fandoms and let them nurse me back to health.
Cashing in early tonight. I don’t even know why…
Probs sleeping in tomorrow too.
I’m sort of overwhelmingly tired.
Fuck yes. 1069 words.
That is exactly what I wanted.
I’m gonna go ahead, force my myself to put the stories down, and free write.
Even though I know that I need to be working on something more focused, a long-form piece or at least something I plan on finishing, I can’t just jump into that right now. So I’ll free write until I get into a clear head space and then make an earnest effort until…at least 3:00 to get something down on paper.
I go through cycles.
One minute it’s all read, read, read.
And the next it’s all write, write, write.
But right now I’m in this strange middle ground where I’m reading a lot, and I feel like I wanna just write, but something’s stopping me. So, I keep on reading.
I don’t know what this is.
So, I think that I’m actually going to end up in academia.
I’m not saying that’s the only place I’ll end up.
Nor am I saying that it’s the first place I’ll end up.
I just have a strong feeling about it - like I’ll end up with somebody’s Phd in something having a mutual learning experience with other people.
My love for literature is nearly indescribable. This comes close.
But even that doesn’t quite hit it.
Just - words and I have had a very strong connection from a very young age.
And anything else I could think of to describe that connection would be an understatement.
I could say that they have been a comfort to me. I could say that literature was, at times, all I had to truly depend on. I could say that literature saved my life.
And all of that would be correct, but it’d also be a gross injustice against the true nature of the thing.
Not only did literature (in all it’s various forms), save my life - it gave my life back to me and then some. Filled it with purpose, direction, and hope (to say the least).
Literature didn’t just scoop me out of the way of some disaster and go “Woo, there you go. Almost lost you there. Be careful, all right, see you later.”
Not so much as it picked me up out of the ocean I was drowning in, resuscitated me, wrung me out, dried me off, and then taught me how to swim.
How to be a better human being.
Narrative (and what comes of it) is so important to me, so important.