Saturday, July 12, 2003

Arnold, Squirrelsicles


I watched Terminator 2 with my parents tonight. Actually, we watched the first half last night and finished it tonight. Because it's insanely long.

My opinion of it is still the same. It's pretty good. I like Joe Morton. I like nuclear weapons. Don't so much like the embarrassing "kid teaches machine how to be hep" scenes or the embarrassing "whaat's wrong with your eyesss?," robot-learns-to-feel stuff.

What I really like is that it's the only sequel I can think of that has it's characters genuinely, profoundly fucked-up by the events of the first movie. In most sequels, status quo has returned and our heroes are living the life they earned at the end of their last adventure. In T2, all the blowing-up and shooting and time-travelling from the first one has actually broken lives and damaged people severely. Which is cool. Gives it a little resonance. A little.

Actually now that I think about it, Aliens had the same kinda action going. Ripley was fucked up, but she shakes it off so early in the film...

The other important thing about T2: Liquid Nitrogen is the badass-est stuff, like, ever. Man, I like that stuff. I once had some warts burned off with it. That was cool. At Penn State, behind one of the buildings where I never went to class, there was a big tank of it. The campus legend was that grad students who had access to it would catch squirrels and dip them in it (dangling them by their scroungy little tails, natch) and then smash them into squirrel brittle. I may be making that up. But I don't think so. I think somebody else made it up and then told me.

Tuesday, July 08, 2003

Perfect Car Stereo Moment


Pulled into the parking lot at home with the Bad Plus' cover of Aphex Twin's "Flim, " perfect summery happy-robot jingling; heat-lightning north past the mountain, first firefly of summer blinks about fifteen feet up, off to my right front- while the song ends I watch him trail across the street, climb above the neighbor's house. Like with fresh snow, makes me ignore the road for a minute, the yards, like these aren't suburbs, but wild.