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May. 13th, 2004 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeI will write in this journal every day.
Dammit.
So sayeth I.
The only problem is I really don't have much to write about. My life is ultimately incredibly boring. I mean, what's happened in the last week? I gamed. That's fun, if you're in the game. Actually, no, it wasn't fun, 'cause we started really late that day, I felt sick to my stomach from the fumes coming out of this bar-slash-pizza-joint, the only other sane person who was present for the game fell asleep an hour into it... Ugh. Next game should be better. Um. I got a rejection letter from Highlights. 'Too adult', apparently. I'll try submitting it to a mag for the next age range up. Damn, but little kids are hard to write for.
And that's it. Really. That's all I've been doing with my life for the last several weeks, writing and getting rejected. And doing little bits of roleplaying on the side. And going back and revising/working on some fanfic. I saw The Matrix Reloaded again and it inspired me to continue my Matrix epic fanfic. Which I started to post here and then dropped. Go read it on fanfic.net, it's not that bad. Honestly. And now I'm rewriting and revising my Pitch Black fanfic in light of The Chronicles of Riddick coming out soon.
-- Vin Diesel gushing begins --
I'm a little wary of The Chronicles of Riddick. I mean, Pitch Black was cool. It featured Vin Diesel, who at first I was nervous about but have since come to love, as a psychopathic killer. And that was it. There was a whole cast of other very colorful characters, and they did a great job characterising each. But the whole Vin Diesel schtick was that he was a psychopathic killer. There was one really cool scene where this rabbity, scrawny little man introduces himself...
"Paris P. Oglive. Antiquities dealer."
And in contrast you have Vin Diesel, who is 6'2" at least and possessed of the mightiest six pack I have yet seen. I swear, this is the man for whom the word 'thews' was invented. And he can actually act reasonably well, too. I am impressed. There's a brain in there under all those tasty-looking, rippling muscles. And Riddick, looking tickled pink that this rabbity man is being all upper-class and polite, shakes the man's hand (without crushing it).
"Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer."
And there's that little uptwist to his tone at the end that says he's highly amused by the whole thing. It's great.
But The Chronicles of Riddick introduces a whole lot of other plot elements. A whole lot of other character elements. Riddick is still the walking, talking, solid-as-a-rock epitome of badassery, but now there's a whole back-story to explain why. And it sounds like it's the predictable kind of backstory. Almost too predictable. Almost the kind to turn Riddick into a Gary Stu.
We now pause while my brain shudders at the concept. Riddick = Gary Stu? Riddick shivs Gary Stus and eats them with his Wheaties.
But yeah. And there's a whole apocalyptic plotline, and basically it smacks of the Lucas syndrome. Wherein they waited too long to make the sequel, the budget jumped a little too high, and now they've foregone all the little intimate details of character for giant sweeping epic plot developments.
Dammit.
I want more Vin Diesel! I want more of Riddick's twisted side! I want more of the occasional flash of a man who might have been honorable and kind, once, before he realized the world is a fucked up place and turned jaded, hard, and bitter. Oh so hard. Washboard abs doesn't even cover it. Wipe that drool, missy, before you short out the computer.
Oh well. I'll go see it anyway, because I'm a sucker for Vin Diesel in a muscle tee. Also because the concept of Vin Diesel and Judi Dench in a scifi apocalyptic action thriller is making my brain hurt.
-- end Vin Diesel gushing --
Yeah. This is what I talk about when I have nothing else to talk about. Movies.
Oh yeah. I also saw Van Helsing. So camp, and yet so funny and good. Richard Roxborough is teh hot. So is that kid who played Velkan. Hugh Jackman... eh. He's all right. So much eye candy. So little time.
Dammit.
So sayeth I.
The only problem is I really don't have much to write about. My life is ultimately incredibly boring. I mean, what's happened in the last week? I gamed. That's fun, if you're in the game. Actually, no, it wasn't fun, 'cause we started really late that day, I felt sick to my stomach from the fumes coming out of this bar-slash-pizza-joint, the only other sane person who was present for the game fell asleep an hour into it... Ugh. Next game should be better. Um. I got a rejection letter from Highlights. 'Too adult', apparently. I'll try submitting it to a mag for the next age range up. Damn, but little kids are hard to write for.
And that's it. Really. That's all I've been doing with my life for the last several weeks, writing and getting rejected. And doing little bits of roleplaying on the side. And going back and revising/working on some fanfic. I saw The Matrix Reloaded again and it inspired me to continue my Matrix epic fanfic. Which I started to post here and then dropped. Go read it on fanfic.net, it's not that bad. Honestly. And now I'm rewriting and revising my Pitch Black fanfic in light of The Chronicles of Riddick coming out soon.
-- Vin Diesel gushing begins --
I'm a little wary of The Chronicles of Riddick. I mean, Pitch Black was cool. It featured Vin Diesel, who at first I was nervous about but have since come to love, as a psychopathic killer. And that was it. There was a whole cast of other very colorful characters, and they did a great job characterising each. But the whole Vin Diesel schtick was that he was a psychopathic killer. There was one really cool scene where this rabbity, scrawny little man introduces himself...
"Paris P. Oglive. Antiquities dealer."
And in contrast you have Vin Diesel, who is 6'2" at least and possessed of the mightiest six pack I have yet seen. I swear, this is the man for whom the word 'thews' was invented. And he can actually act reasonably well, too. I am impressed. There's a brain in there under all those tasty-looking, rippling muscles. And Riddick, looking tickled pink that this rabbity man is being all upper-class and polite, shakes the man's hand (without crushing it).
"Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer."
And there's that little uptwist to his tone at the end that says he's highly amused by the whole thing. It's great.
But The Chronicles of Riddick introduces a whole lot of other plot elements. A whole lot of other character elements. Riddick is still the walking, talking, solid-as-a-rock epitome of badassery, but now there's a whole back-story to explain why. And it sounds like it's the predictable kind of backstory. Almost too predictable. Almost the kind to turn Riddick into a Gary Stu.
We now pause while my brain shudders at the concept. Riddick = Gary Stu? Riddick shivs Gary Stus and eats them with his Wheaties.
But yeah. And there's a whole apocalyptic plotline, and basically it smacks of the Lucas syndrome. Wherein they waited too long to make the sequel, the budget jumped a little too high, and now they've foregone all the little intimate details of character for giant sweeping epic plot developments.
Dammit.
I want more Vin Diesel! I want more of Riddick's twisted side! I want more of the occasional flash of a man who might have been honorable and kind, once, before he realized the world is a fucked up place and turned jaded, hard, and bitter. Oh so hard. Washboard abs doesn't even cover it. Wipe that drool, missy, before you short out the computer.
Oh well. I'll go see it anyway, because I'm a sucker for Vin Diesel in a muscle tee. Also because the concept of Vin Diesel and Judi Dench in a scifi apocalyptic action thriller is making my brain hurt.
-- end Vin Diesel gushing --
Yeah. This is what I talk about when I have nothing else to talk about. Movies.
Oh yeah. I also saw Van Helsing. So camp, and yet so funny and good. Richard Roxborough is teh hot. So is that kid who played Velkan. Hugh Jackman... eh. He's all right. So much eye candy. So little time.
