Monday, September 10, 1:54 CDT
It was an uneventful sort of weekend. My sister turned 16 Friday, and since I was home I drove her to town and we wandered around for a while in the mall. I'd like to say I did something to make me seem like a cool older brother, but that was pretty much it. We did find a great Ryoko (blue-haired, short tempered space pirate of Tenchi Muyo fame) figurine in a Software, etc. Right next to all the Gundam stuff I'm always sorely tempted to buy. If only I'd ever been any good at assembling models.
We saw The Musketeer. Bad writing, bad acting, bad directing. And the thing is, it coulda worked - doing The Three Musketeers with over-the-top kung-fu movie style fight scenes seems like a natural conceptual leap if you've read the book. As is, well, it'd probably make an ok $3 rental. A lot of the lameness could be pretty entertaining.
I got a copy of Cormac McCarthy's All the Pretty Horses Friday, and finished it late Saturday night. (While Unix sped toward it's billionth second, an event I somehow spaced off.) It was good. Excellent, even. Which I don't usually feel about lit'rature with a dearth of punctuation. It reminded me of Fire on the Mountain and something else I can't quite put my finger on, but something saturated with a feel of place and time. I'll read the rest of the Border Trilogy, whenever I actually find them...
I can hear Jeremy (my room mate) and Lewis (the RA) at the end of the hall, still locked in titanic struggle at the Playstation 2 controls, each convinced alternatively of their supreme skills and the obvious gross injustice being visited upon them by the Tekken Tag Tournament engine. Lewis has skills, or at least serious speed, which tends to kill in any button-mashing activity. He is a near-master of everything I have seen him play, and his ego is fully aware of this. But Lewis has no experience with first person shooters. Yet. I will teach him humility, oh yes. And then I will retire permanently from the contest, before he wraps his brain fully around mouselooking and becomes an unstoppable killing machine.
I am going to bed.