Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Three Things. Just Three Things

1. First off: I took the word Running out of the blog title. It seemed like false advertising since I hadn't run a step since last October, and I currently don't have full feeling in my leg and still limp from time to time. I have not given up and never will. In the meantime, I'll be doing more reading and reviewing.

2. An MRI revealed a bunch of evil globs in my spine and confirmed the herniated discs. I was subsequently put on an operating table, some "happy juice" was put into my IV, and then "wham" I woke up in the future. All that was different was three of my discs were injected with some even happier juice, and I now walk with a lot less pain, I have more feeling in my leg, and I'm looking forward to round two. 

3. If you only get food poisoning once in your life, make sure it is from a cruise ship. I promise it is an experience you will never forget. Not only does it do the most bizarre things to your body, but it gives you the strangest dreams.  If I don't someday write a horror story set inside a cruise ship I will consider my life a failure. 

4. (I know I said 3 things, but I always overdo it) I'm fine with all the deaths on Game of Thrones, but this last one proved especially unsatisfying. I don't care if the Red Witch brings him back, that's cheating. I'd rather lose an Army of Daryl Dixon's than one Jon Snow. I'll still watch GOT eagerly, but it'll feel like crumbs of the cake. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Post Mad Max Fury Road Syndrome

I've fallen on some dark days of late. But now I have a new affliction: 
Post Mad Max Fury Road Syndrome
It's what happens when you get you senses bombarded. When you sit in luxury seating and get your face ripped right off of your head. A wasteland so rich with characters, images and inferences with little explanation other than, check this out, we know you get it. It's all part of your apocalyptic fantasy. It's all part, of your apocalyptic dreams. The really weird stuff you can't explain? well, we got it for you here.

 Guitars blazing. Engines roaring. Nuclear storms churning. Creatures from the wasteland battling. Mothers milk pouring. Blood transfusing. All of this, and a storyline full of the power of hope, redemption, misguided faith, and how feminine power just might save the world from the madness of men.  It's a movie I can't stop thinking about. It's a movie where, when you watch it, your face looks like this: 

 I walked out of the theater on a rainy sunday afternoon, but did not want to leave.   Something was tugging me back inside. Do not go, it said, come back, come back.  I wanted to listen, for outside, everything seemed pale, slow, quiet, lifeless. There was no real urgency. Nothing spectacular.

Is there a cure for this? Bullocks. There is. I'm going straight to Valhalla. I live, I die, I live again.


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