One of my more recent obsessions is Moon. Well, uh, by recent? I guess I mean the entirety of 2010. Sam Rockwell’s performance continually rocks the socks off my little piggies. It doesn’t help that the visuals are gorgeous Space Odyssey Sex, and the soundtrack is by the inestimable Clint Mansell.

If you haven’t seen Moon, see it. If you have seen it? Seen it again.

[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]

Fame is infamy’s cowardly little brother.

One of the two highlights of my descent into the Great American Yokel last week was finding these beauties at a local Walmart. For just $5, less than a twelve-pack here, I could buy a 24-can cube of Diet Mountain Dew destruction. Amazed at the sight, and drinking away my woes, I simply had to buy two.

Cindel: Don’t you have a star cruiser?

Wicket: Bitch, if I had a star cruiser you think I’d still be on a goddamn forest moon? Fugg that, I’d be getting my drank on in a Coruscant suite.*

*Translation provided by P. Krueger

[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 watched the moon bleed out.

[photo]

At a certain hour I become wistful. When this occurs, I turn to that which inspires me, helps me believe that wonder and beauty and triumph still exist.

I present my muse of the evening: Paul Gilbert

If you enjoy the sound of electric guitar, I think you’ll find his work breathtaking.

And if you think John Mayer’s the greatest living guitarist, prepare to have your belief challenged.

[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]

Night gives love and steals lives.

[photo]

[via sarcastically, i am : click to enlarge]

Ohhh shit! Who knew that Tatooine has such ballin’ beaches?

Good god, Christopher Nolan would love to take a stab at a Bond flick:

via bbc and slashfilm:

I’ve loved the Bond films since I was a kid. For me, they’re always about the expansiveness of cinema. The first Bond films set up infinite possibilities about the world they create. I’d love to do a Bond film.

Christopher Nolan is my boy! My fucking homeboy. I want his Inception more than I want a Diet Mountain Dew. And I’m positively tremulous from lack of caffeine right now! Just kidding! Duh. I’m seeing the eyes of God amidst a pile of emptied aluminum.

I love Daniel Craig as Bond, and I’ve loved his two flicks in the role. And this is all despite the fact that I have almost no clue about what happened in the flicks due to the knotty, non-sensical plots. Can you imagine if Nolan and his brother got a crack at the universe and a script?

Yes please.

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Floating somewhere past Neptune, I decided to start reading. I had a fresh stack of Picto-Literature, given to me by my lover the day before departure. She knew that I had a soft spot for the paneled page, tales of hyperbole accompanied by a glut of exposition. Such insights into my interests were why I had accepted her as my lover in the first place.

I joke. The fact that such a babe would receive a Thought-Scientist, especially one as scrappy as myself, is a damn miracle. And these days, I’m no longer a disbeliever of miracles.

Rummaging through the cartoon-books, I was impressed by the titles at hand. My lover had collected some of the most critically acclaimed titles, the classics I grew up reading as a young lad. Grant Morrison’s Batman and Robin. iZombie by Roberson and Allred. A rerelease of Casanova, the groundbreaking title by Fraction/Ba/Moon. Ah, such wondrous creations were crafted before the Collapse!

Staring out the bay window, I knew that I should feel some sort of immense gratitude. For the splendor of the universe. And the opportunity to explore it. But with a handful of pulp – yellowed, slightly battered paper narratives — I couldn’t maintain the gaze.

What’s more impressive — the constantly unfurling, eternal and infinite nature or the ability of small, squishy flesh creatures to represent it?

Sifting through the works, I found the first issue of Scarlet! What a gem! Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev, the writer-artist duo known for reinvigorating Marvel’s Matthew Murdock (known at the time as Daredevil) had come together for this creator-owned property. Truthfully, I had never read it before. Hell, this made the fact that I was shipping out to a six-month work assignment a bit more bearable.

Before reading, I flipped through the pages to admire the artwork. I know, I know, according to the comix guides of the Aughts, this is a big no-no. But I like to give myself a sneak preview, titillating myself in the same way as experienced through a movie trailer. But this time I found myself slowing down, breathing in as much of every page as possible, words aside.

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