I suppose a little recap of events that happened between the last rambling (which was written in a state of barely coherent, sleep deprived, semi-horny silliness) and right now.

Oh yes. I now ramble in the tradition of the half asleep, just after sunrise, late-in-fest, semi-lucid dreariness that has become the essence of modern festing. I note that Jaeger still has his wallpaper set. As do I, with this rambling window now the sole occupant of my visible desktop, strategically positioned in a semi-transparent Eterm directly on top of....

This morning, after a spoil-myself-rotten Saturday morning sleep-in, Mallrats commentary viewing (at least Mewes was awake during this one), I showered and proceeded to do as planned last night. I journied to the mythical land of Pearl Street in search of the Free Dmitry contingent, fighting for the rights of citizens of all nations.

Moulin Rouge is, musically and cinematically, an awesome experience to absorb. It's a musical. It's a drama. It's a visual feast. It's exhilarating. It's funny. It's heartbreaking. It's what all other movies classified as "musicals" wish they could be.

The venerable Tim Burton returns to direct one of the silliest big screen epics in recent memory. Well, what can I say? There were lots of apes. Costumes were really well done. The story had a couple of cool plot twists, but was otherwise quite predictable. The dialog and acting were nothing too special. There were a bunch of really cool composite effects shots throughout. Oh, and did I mention the great costumes?

This movie eludes me, yet as the end credits roll up, I am riveted by what I have seen. The whole thing is meant as a sick rotten joke, I think.

A few minutes ago, I awoke from my evening sleep, feeling quite bleary eyed, but currently able to sleep no further. Having not eaten since lunch, the standard expectation would be that I would be hungry by now, but I am not. I feel quite full. Armadillo really doesn't skimp when they pile on those plates of burritos.

Before the accussation is officially made, I plead guilty as changed. I haven't been reading Jaeger's journal entries very faithfully lately. So it was to my surprise this evening when he suggested, no, more like ordered, me to read a certain entry I had not read, which supposably mentioned something about some conspiracy involving me. I just read it. I'm not at all sure what to make of this. So given my uncertainty, I think I'll take the suggested action, and laugh.

Today, I engaged in a practice seldom performed since the more youthful wild years of abandon and frolic (Oh brother!): I watched a whole bunch of movies back-to-back, nonstop, for the better portion of the waking day (and evening). Now, here I sit, with a whopping four movielog windows open with the intend of chronicling each of these unique cinematic experiences. (Plus I've got this rambling window, plus another xterm for general use, plus my standard compliment of Mozilla windows, plus all that stuff on my other desktops, etc. Geez, I'm beginning to think I should buy more memory.)

In this fourth installment in the saga of not-so-related tales, we tackle the theme of... Religion and faith!

If I may be so bold as to reinterpret the words written by Kevin Smith on the insert... No, not reinterpret. Simply say stuff that isn't there at all. This is just what I'm saying, and may or may not have been what was actually intented by those who worked on the film:

This one had the distinction of being the only film in the series that I had not seen prior to today.

This movie was every bit as funny today as I remembered it being when I first saw it on VHS years ago.

Quiet on the content front indeed.

Certainly an interesting movie for its novelty value, if nothing else. The first feature film in history to make a credible attempt at fully computer generated, realistic looking human characters. On that count, it sort of succeeds. Sort of.

Alright, so I did type a couple of scribbly little away-from-home late night ink blotches which were intended to be ramblings during the time away, but they're short, they're nearly illegible, they're incoherent crap, and I just don't feel like transcribing them. So I won't. Trust me. You aren't missing much.

A quickie here, just to keep the content vultures updated...

After a day at work, I plotted a course directly for the Boulder Public Library, where I read for a while about the philosophy of existentialism. When physical fatigue took over, I laid my head on a desk and slept for a while, and then read some more.

This film is going to get a mixed review, if ever there was one. If I am harsher about flaws in this one than I might be with ordinary movies, it is because A.I. showed such enormous potential in so many ways, thus making it all the more disappointing during moments when it just falls flat. 98% of those sour moments occur during the last 20 minutes of the film, leaving people scratching their heads during closing credits at at what otherwise would have been an amazing cinematic experience.