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I feel so unproductive. I spent the entire day in bed watching Bruce Campbell movies on the SciFi Channel and reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I did get up long enough to take a shower around 2 in the afternoon, but it was straight back to bed afterward.
My mind is...lazy. I'm not sure why I'm posting this entry. Something to do, I suppose.
Dogma was on television earlier today. Alan Rickman makes my toes curl.
Watched Suburbia last night. Jason thought it was a movie from the '80s about the underground punk scene. It was actually a movie from the '90s about apathetic high school graduates who stand on a corner. It was good, but not grand. Apparently, it was adapted from a play of the same name. I think I'd have liked it better if I had seen it performed live in that form.
Excerpt from Gene Wolfe's The Book of the New Sun (which I highly recommend):
"Nor do I believe that beautiful thoughts - or wise ones - are engendered by external troubles."
"I did not say beautiful thoughts, but thoughts of grace and greatness, though I suppose that is a kind of beauty. Let me show you." She lifted my hand and slipping it inside her rags pressed it to her right breast. I could feel the nipple, as firm as a cherry, and the warmth of the gentle mound beneath it, delicate, feather-soft and alive with racing blood. "Now," she said, " what are your thoughts? If I have made the external world sweet to you, aren't they less than they were?"
My mind is...lazy. I'm not sure why I'm posting this entry. Something to do, I suppose.
Dogma was on television earlier today. Alan Rickman makes my toes curl.
Watched Suburbia last night. Jason thought it was a movie from the '80s about the underground punk scene. It was actually a movie from the '90s about apathetic high school graduates who stand on a corner. It was good, but not grand. Apparently, it was adapted from a play of the same name. I think I'd have liked it better if I had seen it performed live in that form.
Excerpt from Gene Wolfe's The Book of the New Sun (which I highly recommend):
"Nor do I believe that beautiful thoughts - or wise ones - are engendered by external troubles."
"I did not say beautiful thoughts, but thoughts of grace and greatness, though I suppose that is a kind of beauty. Let me show you." She lifted my hand and slipping it inside her rags pressed it to her right breast. I could feel the nipple, as firm as a cherry, and the warmth of the gentle mound beneath it, delicate, feather-soft and alive with racing blood. "Now," she said, " what are your thoughts? If I have made the external world sweet to you, aren't they less than they were?"
