So, given my current penchant for low-budget horror films, I've taken it upon myself to watch the 1987 film, "Maximum Overdrive". I believe this was one of Emilio Estevez's earlier movies, and it was also written and directed by Stephen King (who has a very short cameo in the film with the epic line, "Honey! C'mon over here, Sugar-buns. This machine just called me an asshole!"). Basically, the premise behind the film is that a comet has passed by Earth and enveloped the planet in a strange green mist, causing all electrical machinery to become sentient and homicidal: electric carving knives attack gum-chewing waitresses, steamrollers plow over young boys, lawnmowers chase children on bikes, etc. One of the earliest scenes involves a bridge that begins to think on its own, causing cars to smash into each other and, in the case of a truck, to drop a payload of watermelons all over everything and everyone.
For its age, the effects are pretty good. The plastic Green Goblin face on the front of one of the trucks is rather memorable, as is the sight (and sound) of a young Yeardley Smith as a new bride on the run from the machines with her husband (it's amusing to hear Lisa Simpson curse like a sailor). You also get to see rednecks shooting rockets at trucks while drinking beer, generating massive explosions. There is also a great deal of blood and gore, so if you are averse to these things, I'd definitely give this one a pass.
The acting is about what you'd expect for a movie in this genre. Emilio did a fine job in "The Outsiders", but in this he seems bored (considering what he had to work with, however, he can hardly be blamed). The dialogue is laughable, and the fact that the owner of the truck stop was conveniently hoarding military-grade weapons in the basement just in time for the machines to go crazy is a little too convenient. Stephen King himself has described this as a "moron movie", and will fully admit that this is not one of his better efforts.
In all, I would give this a grade of two out of five. For better King flicks, watch "Silver Bullet", "Salem's Lot", or the sublime "Stand By Me".
Although I've known about her since February, it's still a mite daunting to think about being the father of a baby girl in October. What kind of dad will I be, I wonder? Will I have the strength to make the necessary changes of heart and mind? I certainly hope so. The little child within me rants and raves, knowing his end is near...
My wife and I just started watching "True Blood" on HBO. The concept is interesting: vampires have "come out of the coffin" and joined society, due to the discovery of a synthetic blood substitute called "True Blood" (vampires can buy this substance in convenience stores or order it at bars, allowing them to freely mingle with humans). Anna Paquin plays the lead character, a waitress at a bar who also happens to have the ability to read minds. Predictably, she ends up falling for a tall, dark, mysterious vampire who walks into her place of employment one evening (interestingly though, she ends up saving his life from "bleeders", who kill and drain vampires for their blood and sell it on the black market). It's worth checking out.
Part two...
I read a rant on a blog about how "all men love big boobs" and found it to be rather stereotypical and generalizing regarding my sex. Granted, yes, men love breasts: you can read any number of scholarly articles about this fascination, but every man is different. Most men, believe it or not, could care less about the size of a woman's breasts so long as she's genuinely interested in him as a person. So please, please, stop writing about how we're nothing but a bunch of knuckle-dragging cavemen who only want to knock you out and drag you back to our caves. The kind of woman we like, 95% of the time, is the kind who is comfortable with herself.
...was never really around when I needed him to be.
I often wonder what life would have been like if he had.
I know there certainly wouldn't have been any Ward and The Beave moments with him, tossing around the old baseball and getting my hair tousled after, but still...what would it have been like to be able to come home and have a male presense there; one that actually cared about my well-being? What would it have been like to have a dad who took me aside when I was hurting, put an arm around me, and told me that everything was going to be okay, and that he loved me? How different would I be today? Better, maybe? Worse? I don't know. I play "what-ifs" a lot in life.
My parents are getting older, year by year. Funny how I used to look at them as if they were the sources of all knowledge, and infallible. Now I just see a couple of older people, who have made mistakes and generally tried to do the best they could. Do I really have the right to punish them for not being what I wanted them to be?
And so, for good or ill, I've decided to give this another shot.
I should begin by saying that I quit my drugstore job and now work at a call center decisioning credit card applications. The work is boring as hell but allows me the chance to do homework (I'm back in school again) or to catch up on my reading. I managed to finish the whole of Joyce's "Ulysses" inbetween applications, which is something I don't plan on ever doing again. "Walden" and a couple of the works of Faulkner have also been my companions in the same manner.
