Don't make Kevin Spacey angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.


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Don't make Kevin Spacey angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.
03.07.04 (10:42 am)   [edit]
I'll admit that I have a problem with assuming that other people are better adapted, better adjusted, or just plain better than I am. Sometimes I'm even afraid of voicing the slightest, most mundane opinion in front of a group of people, just because I have this irrational subconscious feeling that someone is going to make fun of me. I've always been like that. I've always been the kid who thinks everybody in school hates him when they're actually either indifferent to him or (as in my earlier years) openly adoring of him. This isn't really a good trait to have, I realize that. But God, it sure makes it difficult for me to understand why there are some people who are utterly convinced that [i]they[/i] are better than everyone else.

Think about this: are you [i]really[/i] the only person in the world who listens to good music, watches good movies or reads good books? Are you [i]really[/i] the only person who doesn't dress like everyone else? Are you [i]really[/i] the only one who isn't spoiled, rich and privileged? Who isn't or hasn't been openly, maybe even embarrassingly emotional? Who hasn't at some point in their lives been too dramatic or even too boring...occasionally publicly? Does everyone else [i]really[/i] have their heads too far up their asses to care about their fellow man? It's a convenient way to alienate yourself and more than a little self-serving, at that. We all know alienation makes good art, so why not be the detached artist with a twist, the one who is simply too good for everyone else? Well, when I see someone behave like that, "I really just have to laugh."

But enough angst. (I was considering writing about a conversation I overheard at brunch about someone getting wasted on Saturday night, then getting up Sunday morning to go to church, but I decided in light of the preceding monologue I should probably just let that one go so I don't have to admit that I'm the hypocrite we all know I am. So, moving on.)

I spent a really nice day with Megan yesterday, which was the usual thing: napping, reading, cuddling, watching a really bad movie on TV. Not very interesting for you, but I couldn't think of a better way for me to spend the day. We ate hummus and Tofutti and watched [i]Consenting Adults[/i], which I didn't pay much attention to and missed the beginning anyway. So here's my interpretation of the plot: Kevin Spacey is really pissed off that he got the worst blonde dye job in history, and when he sees his new neighbor Kevin Kline's gigantic mustache, that's just the last straw. So he decides to kill a woman who looks like his wife with a baseball bat, frame Kevin Kline for the murder of his wife (who isn't really dead) and then run off with [i]Kevin Kline[/i]'s wife, who is Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. The rest of the movie is mostly Kevin Kline running around looking crazy, spying on Kevin Spacey and popping out at his wife from the backseat of her van. I think he might be looking for a razor so he can get rid of that [i]Lifetime Original[/i]-husband mustache. Oh yeah, and Kevin Spacey kills another person with a bat. My favorite part? When Kevin S. has his gun trained down the stairs to kill Kevin K. and he dramatically whispers, "Come to Poppa"--right before Kevin K., mustache and all, dives through the bedroom window and tackles him from behind. A good five minutes of face-punching ensues.

It's a fucking brilliant movie.

Anyway, later we watched [i]Rock and Roll High School[/i], another classic, and then went our separate ways to bed. (We no longer sleep together, ever actually, which surprisingly enough does not stop Megan's roommate from stomping in and angrily slamming the door upon both entering and exiting the room while I'm there. As a result, I have myself begun slamming the door whenever I leave Megan's room in roommate's presence, and I have to admit she's right--it's very therapeutic.) You might notice I didn't talk at all about what we did Friday after the record shopping, largely because it was basically the same thing as last night, only exchange the hummus and Tofutti for our new CDs, [i]Consenting Adults[/i] for [i]Spinal Tap[/i], and [i]Rock and Roll High School[/i] for the excellent [i]Detroit Rock Movie[/i]. There, now you're all caught up. Which I'm sure you could care less about, but this stuff is important to me and I didn't get to be the #49 Hot Blog by writing for YOU. You bastards.

Today, work, Chicago Lit. web project, and possibly even the first Run Little Bunny rehearsal in about a month.
 
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