[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

You don’t want to see midnight.

13 minutes of prog-metal mayhem. Filmed for Japanese television. Apparently for a show called Party-Dude!

There are worse ways to start your week.

[via slashfilm | click to enlarge]

Hello true believers! How do you feel about more awkward, well-lit pictures from the Thor movie set?! Designed to simultaneously excite you, but make you worry, because something about them doesn’t look quite right? This shit looks like it was taken with a disposable camera from a hot air balloon.

via slashfilm:

A new photo from Marvel Studio’s big screen adaptation of Thor was released in today’s print edition of the Los Angeles Times. The new photo reveals a wide angle view of the epic set of the Hall of Asgard, featuring a kneeling Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Asgardians Fandral the Dashing (Josh Dallas), Hogun the Grim (Tadanobu Asano) and Frigga (Rene Russo); and Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston) both sporting ceremonial helmets

The set looks dope though, I’ll give them that. Here’s hoping it all translates well to film. If not? Forsooth, and shit!

When is $100 million in development costs fucking chump change? When it’s invested in something that could rake in a billi! One billion fucking ducats, yo!

via kotaku:

The Wall Street Journal puts StarCraft II’s development costs above the $100 million mark, but Activision Blizzard boss Bobby Kotick says the investment will eventually bring in between $500 million and a billion dollars for the publisher. In profit. Yes, building a new StarCraft game and an all-new Battle.net service takes money to make money, but with international subscription fees, a $60 retail price in the States and two more expansions in the works, a billion starts to sound conservative.

I actually don’t know how much the average blockbuster costs to make, but I’m still impressed at the price of the game and the amount that they’re projecting this son of a bitch is going to rake in. I mean, why the fuck not? Starcraft and Diablo II are still being played religiously, why won’t this shit be around in a decade? I mean, aside from the obvious forthcoming zombie apocalypse, or the robot apocalypse, or the foreseeable Arachnid Uprising of 2012. But say zombies or arachnids or robots love playing Starcraft II?

That’s fucking cheddar, yo.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

“Fried or scrambled, eggs is eggs.”

[photo]

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

I keep my emotions bottled up.

[photo]

[via Pulphope]

Trying to remember how to draw R2-D2 while waiting on some pasta last night. Realized I never looked at him very closely.

Paul Pope doodling Star Wars? Nerd heaven.

—-

I can’t stop watching this video.

Here’s the problem with me trying to write anything. I vomit passion. It works its way out of my pores, it rambles out of my mouth, it infects my fingers. Anything I write about anything no less than six months after I experience it, is horriblly disfigured by my passions. And the feelings I have now or will have then can be completely contradictory, and dammit I don’t really care.

There’s a certain point when the switch flips and I’m able to think about something analytically, but usually I can’t . Especially when I enjoy something.

Like Inception.

I’ve spent the entire last twenty-four hours completely swallowed up by the universe that Christopher Nolan built. A universe built in mazes, fabricated with the intent to meditate on ideas of ideas, guilt, consciousness, self-reflection, et cetera. Movies are special to me when they affect me. A universe also filled with gorgeous cinematography, white-knuckle action, and brief moments of humor. Every time I have to hear someone say, “Inception is a masterpiece” or “Inception isn’t a masterpiece”, I wonder quietly to myself what the fuck that means. I have absolutely no idea. But I do know Inception affected me.

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[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Only geezers think it’s too late.

[photo]