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Aeon Flux, Alexandre Dumas, and Comfort Friends

As the title suggests, I'm watching Aeon Flux right now, and so far... me = not impressed. Yeah. Whatever. It's just a movie that showcases Charlize Theron doing cool stuff with her body (and her eyelashes, of course). In theory, the storyline is actually pretty good, but it's not done well. The special effects are cool, and the fight scenes are pretty wicked, and if you like movies that consist of merely those 2 things, then this movie is perfect for you. Unfortunately, that's not all I like in a movie. I like a lot of plot. I like character development. I like great writing. So few movies really meet my requirements nowadays that it's just disheartening. Honestly, why can't people stop worrying about how cool a movie looks and actually focus on the brilliance of the writing and characters? That's what Hollywood is missing right now: something that captures the audiences' attention and holds it for a full 1 and 1/2- 2 hours. Ever wonder why so many movies are coming out that are either remakes or based off of books, novellas, and short stories?? It's because Hollywood has run out of ideas. They don't have any clue what originality means anymore, and there is evidence showing in ll of the new movies that come out. The sad part is that people are eating these movies up like freshly made doughnuts from Krispy Kream. It's ridiculous. Yes, it is cool to see classics like Lord of the Rings brought to life on the giant screen, but it gets to a point where they alter so much of the original story that there's just no reason to even claim that the basic story is even based off of the book. Now, I'm not referring to Lord of the Rings, although there were some relatively drastic changes, but there are movies out there that don't even come close to resembling their inspiration. I think that, in such cases, they shouldn't even credit the book (or whatever it's been based off of). They might give a little heads up, saying, "Well, this movie started out being based on this particular work, but we decided to change it up a little, you know, because we thought it would be better this way." Stupid, stupid Hollywood. The reason they're classics is because every tiny bit of them is brilliance.

For example, The Count of Monte Cristo. This is by far my favorite book, and I was very disappointed with the movie. Don't get me wrong; it was a very well-done movie, and had it not been tied to Dumas' original work of art, I would have loved it. Heck, I do love it. I bought the movie. But what I had to do was completely ostracize it from the book, otherwise I would have just been infuriated with all of the perversions they added to the movie. Once I got past that, I was totally fine. I even ended up, as I said, loving the movie. In a last hurrah on this subject, though, I maintain that the book is so much better. It doesn't even compare. Sheer genius. This man ^^^ is one of the things that inspired me to write as much as I do. Granted, I'm nowhere near (nor ever will be, probably) as much of a master of language as he was, but... I can dream, can't I?

On another note, you know what I love? I love that I can chill with an old friend and not even come close to caring how crappy I look at the moment. I spent some time with a friend of mine that I've known pretty much since first grade, and I looked like utter crap. My hair was piled on top of my head; I was wearing a baseball t-shirt, flip-flops, and a pair of black pants that are WAY too big for me; and I didn't even have makeup on (I had a little, but nothing that actually looked like I was wearing makeup... I hadn't reapplied any or anything since early morning). Yet there I was just chilling out with this old friend not even caring that I looked like I fell off the nasty tree and hit every branch on the way down. I had even been working on moving heavy stuff (aka a big-ass washer and dryer) into my apartment. We originally planned on going and seeing "Knocked Up" in the theater, but when we walked into the theater, there were absolutely no seats for us. None. Bogus, says I. Anyways, we got a refund and then went to the Green Hills Mall and ate the concessions that I had bought before trying to find the nonexistent seats. After that, we went to his house, where I actually took a look at myself in the mirror. Ewwwww. Grossety-gross-gross. The great part was, though, that I didn't care. I looked at me, and then I thought, "Oh, well." I love that I have people that I feel that comfortable around. It's great.

The apartment is... getting better. It looks like a pig sty, because Jennifer still hasn't found a place for all of her stuff, but... that will be fixed soon. Dad is going to help me put up some shelves in my bedroom, and that should take care of my vast book collection. :) And after that I'll begin decorating and making things all pretty. Right now I'm just concerned with finding a place for all of my shit. And I can call it shit because it's mine. teehee

ANYWAYSSS... I'm off. It's time to stop staring at the computer screen.



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