Weird. I recently saw Logan’s Run for the first time, and it was a pretty fantastic dose of hallucinatory mid-70s science-fiction. I enjoyed it! However, at no point did the movie scream either “mass market!” or “movie franchise!” to me. But, what the fuck do I know?
It’s Monday! Which means a Morning Commute. How did mine go? Well — I was rear ended for the third time in two years as I drove on I-93 South towards UMass Boston. People! Look up from your fucking phones. I beg you. My spaghetti-brain begs you. My consistently whiplash’d neck begs you. I hope, I pray to the Old Ones, that your commute was better than mine. The only perk? The Immediate Migraine and Sore Neck meant I got to go home. Though after thinking about it, a day of lost wages and suffering doesn’t seem like fair trade for a Monday on the couch. Eh. Whatever!
It’s fucking July 24th! That can only mean one thing! My summer class is done! It’s fucking Friday! That can only mean one thing! I’m done with work for the week! It’s fucking Weekend Open Bar! That can only mean one thing! It’s time to gather in this column with fellow denizens of the Space-Ship OMEGA. Share what you’re doing this weekend!
Infinite sadness. Ryan Gosling and Nicolas Winding Refn will not be teaming up for Logan’s Run. I am undone with ball-shrinking sadness. They were going to be like Tim Burton and Johnny Depp! Without the suck! Like David Fincher and Brad Pitt! Without the uh, abs! Perchance they’ll reunite yet.
Nicolas Winding Refn can do whatever he wants. I’ll be there. Arms wide open. Drive was a male-ovaries swelling ballad of art house destruction and sheen, and after that flick I’m ready to pick up whatever he’s putting down. He’s involved with a Logan’s Run remake which has recently picked up a writer.