Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence?
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| High Concept Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence? |
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Wednesday, December 22, 2004 The Pitch: It's like The Nightmare Before Christmas meets Office Space! The holidays are so close, I can taste them. Technically, they've begun for me but poor Edi Jo is tearing her hair out over this never-ending job still hurtling at full speed for its drop-dead deadline of 2:00. If she's not in a coma or heading out on a tri-state killing spree at 2:00, we've won!And yet, my unwilligness to declare the holidays without her hasn't stopped me from goofing off like a lazy poop up 'til now. I sort of want to pop La Dolce Vita in the player and relax, but I keep going back, again and again, to Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. After initially cursing the annoyances of going through flight school, I'm actually pretty happy about it--flying under bridges is fun. And now that I've got the jetpack, it's even easier to just fuck off for hours. It's creepy that the game is growing more and more addictive for me, not less and less. Unlike the other GTA's, I'm actually spending more time playing all the side missions and doing all the unnecessary tasks in each town, playing the paramedic missions and crap. I'm just dawdling, quite deliberately, because I don't really want the experience to end. Other quick impressions, not about video games (thank goodness): Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is, just as it seemed, the most faithful adaptation of a Philip K. Dick novel yet filmed (the fact it's ostensibly not based on a PKD book notwithstanding); Closer should actually be called C Loser, or, even better, C- Loser even though everyone does good work (except Julia Roberts, unfortunately) and Clive Owen is flat-out brilliant; and given a choice between Madvillainy by Madvillain and A Grand Don't Come For Free by The Streets, I much prefer A Grand Don't Come For Free even though I've barely listened at all to either, and Milk-Eyed Mender still triumphs over all. Oh, and the other night I had a dream about, of all things, The X-Files--go figure. I don't remember much about the dream other than it was lit beautifully and it showed me everything the actual show never could: Gillian Anderson was topless and David Duchovny cried convincingly. Almost made me nostalgic for that big mess. I think I'll update again before we leave tomorrow, but if not, have a very happy set of holidays. posted by Jeff Lester | 1:10 PM | |
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