I finally got around to watching Dune in its entirity today. Having watched the scifi channel's version just over 6 months ago, comparisons are inevitable.

Intense!

Today, Bitscape has definitely blown his DVD budget for the month. No question. After work, I made a semi-surgical strike to Best Buy. Two very important releases, and I bought both.

Tonight was Oscar night, also known as "Let's gather 'round and worship Hollywood" time. I watched the whole thing, from the pre-pre-show stuff, where reporters interviewed people as they walked down the burgundy carpet, to the 50 minute overrun (despite the fact that a whopping 3.5 hours had been allocated for the event). Nearly 6 hours of television total. I enjoyed it.

At the Boulder Compound, fans were flocking from miles around to get a glimpse of the long-awaited final installment of the mighty trilogy. The most ambitions undertaking the Logan Brothers had yet attempted: The Worst Scifi Trilogy Conclusion Ever. The premiere turned out to be a disaster befitting the project's title.

Sometime around 2200, Bitscape might have been seen walking the 16th Street mall in Denver. Strolling from Market Street Station, all the way to the Capitol buildiing, and back. Taking in the scene, feeling a lot like an Anne Rice character, experiencing the generally theraputic feeling of being out on the street with the cool night breeze rippling over the scene.

"I feel that the time has come to project my own inadequacies and dissatisfactions into the sociopolitical and scientific schemes. Let my own lack of a voice be heard!" He achieves this by calmly pouring gasoline over his body and setting himself on fire.

The closest thing I could find to a direct transcript. It will do nicely.

It's hard not to like a movie with such a beautifully stylistic color scheme, every frame gorgeously lit and photographed. The dichromatic stuff... shot after shot after shot, dominated by a heightened darkish blue, always accented with a touch of intense red somewhere in the frame. It almost made me think, "Wow, that's so cool! I should make a web page with colors that look like that!" Errr... Yeah.

I was altogether too tired to write one last night, so I'll make an attempt now, before I get too tired tonight.

Yes! I have done absolutely nothing all day. Nothing, I say. Now, let's see how many paragraphs I can use to talk about just how much nothing I did. Ready? Go.

When I first saw this movie years ago, I loved and enjoyed every moment and every word of it, beginning to end. Tonight, I found the first half hour mostly banal and boring, due in part, I think, to the fact that I already knew the ending. But then, something funny happened. It drew me in, and by the time that ending came, I was breaking into tears. I think I am a Richard Linklater fan.

Today's activities at work could be descibed as nothing short of exhausting. I am very glad to now be back here, relaxing in front of Argo. (Though the stress level is still nothing compared to being in the presence of over a dozen individuals between ages 2.5 to 5 for 8 straight hours.)

After work today, Zan Lynx and I conspired to meet the other LUG members for the standard pre-BLUG dinner the Dark Horse. I left first since I needed to make an ATM stop on the way, and found the Dark Horse packed with people, and humungous lines for food (totally unlike the previous occassion we went there, when it was mostly empty). I hailed Zan Lynx on the cell and advised him of the situation, and my intent to eat elsewhere. We opted to meet at Taco Bell as a worthy alternative.

As of today, any tiny remnants of the word "closet" which might have remained have been blown to oblivion. I am no longer in denial. I am a Britney Spears fan -- pop cheese, mousey squeals, "baby baby" lyrics, and all! Hah! Deal with it.

(All content vultures are now authorized to collectively roll their eyes in unison.)

My subconscious leads me on a journey, daring me to take the next step. Where will it end?

How to begin this one? I guess I'll start when working hours ended.

Cautionary note: Though it probably goes without saying for many of my ramblings, some may find portions of this mildly disturbing.

My re-engineering of the collective code to suit my Cool New Idea has been going well. In fact, the prototypes are working great. Unfortunately, I don't have anything complete enough to show off just yet. Perhaps next weekend, it'll all be there. User logins will be the first item to be debuted under this new scheme, with other fun stuff to follow.

For some reason, over the past several weeks, my brain has chosen to relay a slice of its adventures to my conscious existence, as if it knows that on schedule, a delivery needs to be made each and every Sunday morning. Acting on assumption that the path to enlightment is to know thyself, I have been enscribing as much as I could glean from each occurrence. But what of this?

Well, I did do some digging into the Content Collective (also known as the "let's flame each other for the crappy music we listen to" groupware solution) code today. As is often the case when I am working on the Collective, 90% of the time was spent scratching my head, thinking "how could this be arranged so it will be just perfect?", fiddling with mostly imperceptible nuances, and entertaining notions that there must be a more elegant way to go about $task_at_hand. Oh, and I also spent a little time reading vim 6.0 documentantion.

Purchased for a mere $6 at Media Play, this is undisputably now the most ancient film in Bitscape's collection. Now I can read the Dark City comparison with some degree of understanding. :)

Tonight, I finally got around to watching the Queensryche: Operation LiveCrime disc that I bought last weekend during my Media Play shopping spree (dvd glutton that I am). I wonder if this qualifies as "music that is Holy and Good".

Well, I suppose to those of us who devote a significant portion of our time typing tiles into a grid, it's historic. The Content Collective has just seen its first crapflooding war.

This is the first David Lynch film I've seen where the story actually makes sense in a concrete, tangible way from beginning to end. Well, mostly. Of course, it's still his trademark, whacked out style of cinema.

I want to write something, but as often seems to be the case these days, I'm not sure what.

What can I possibly type about it now? Not long ago, it was all there. The entire world -- a night of horrific revelation, character betrayal, treacherous, yet seamless mutation of the reality behind the fabric of life. Enough to fill a volume. I'd be lucky to be able to transcribe it if I typed all day, and even that would be omitting

If chaos theory could be incarnated in the form of a film, this would be it. I dig the hard driving techno soundtrack.

A guilty pleasure. Sort of.