So the movie has been out for what, two and a half months now? I finally saw it for the first time last week.
So what does this mean? Well, if my workmates are any indication, I am no longer a social pariah. It's nice to know that I can rejoin society once again, and partake of the meaningful conversations that drive the world forward. Mostly, these consist of how cool that latest article on SlashDot is.
It's not that big a deal really. (The movie, or my former status as an outcast.) Certainly, I am as guilty of this kind of thing as the next geek. (The Matrix: It's almost as good the second time as it was the third time.) The movie was indeed a good movie in and of itself. But is it really worth the hype? Is anything worth the hype that such things generate?
Anyway, that's all the time I've got for today. A line is starting for Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, and I want to be sure I'll get a good seat.
Update: Holy crap! A line really is starting for Star Wars!
Once upon a time, there was a little Qioxikahoptecaweii native. This native discovered a novel way of preparing a local berry, by drying it out, slow roasting it, then grinding it up and boiling it in water. It was a sort of dark foamy broth, that he sometimes drank by itself, or sometimes with cane juice and/or llama's milk, or sometimes with a nice biscotti or bran muffin.
One day, while the native from Qioxikahoptecaweii was enjoying his morning brew, a roving band of Aztecs raided and pillaged his home, destroying his furniture, and drinking all the alcohol in his fridge. Needless to say, the native was not terribly happy and complained loudly to the local constabulary. The roving band was brought to justice, and their Harleys were sold at a police auction. All in all, justice was served.
One morning, the native was out gathering resources for his drink, on the side of the mountain where he knew the berries grew in abundance. Sure it was a live volcano, but he had prepared for almost every eventuality save for perhaps alien intervention, so he was unconcerned with the dangers.
Unconcerned, that is, until an alien spacecraft warped in from somewhere upstate, and another roving band of Aztecs got out and beat him up and threw him into the volcano to appease their god.