11/16/2002 Archived Entry: "I HATE PEOPLE"

I went and saw the new Harry Potter movie last night. This experience has brought to light again just how much I hate all other people who are not me, which I suppose makes me a bad person. Before the movie started, there was a preview for some movie about a pair of jackasses and a CGI kangaroo. Throughout the preview, the kangaroo was wearing a jacket. Without fail, whenever the kangaroo was on the screen, jumping around in its almost-corpselike CGI glory, at least half of the sold-out theater would shriek with laughter. The corpulent matriarch of the family sitting behind Mistress and me continually told her husband, "Look! The kangaroo is wearing a jacket!" These people actually found the preview funny. I wonder if I scooped their eyes out with spoons and poured salt in the sockets--which would be a good literal translation of what the preview was doing to me--whether they would think that was funny? I certainly would.

This leads me to a word of advice: don't ever go see a Harry Potter movie in the theater, especially on opening night. You will be surrounded by logorrheic freaks and rejects, all wearing pointy wizard hats--and that's just the adults. Even worse about this particular showing was that it was apparently the showing that all the people who saw the midnight showing the night before decided to come back to. Then they all talked about the movie, during the movie. Bastards.

By being one of the eight people in the world who did not read the book, I seemed to have put myself at an extreme disadvantage of not having incredible amounts of Potterlore at my immediate conversational disposal. If I had, I would have been able to join in the rousing discussion the family behind me was having--as well as the family in front of me, the family to the left of me, and the family to the right of me. Certainly, it was refreshing and useful to be told in full-blown quadrophonic echoing sound every time the movie differed in even the slightest detail from the book. I needed to know. Definitely.

(On the other hand, perhaps this bitch-fest is unfair, because I turn into a raving--and usually bitterly disappointed--fanboy whenever a new Star Trek movie comes out. On the other other hand, this is my blog, so fuck it. Let the disaffection continue.)

I'm listening to a 25-minute long Michael Jackson MegaMix. It's basically every hit he's ever had, all tempo-unified and jumbled together with some delay and echo transition effects. It makes me realize how cool Michael used to be, circa 1983. In 1983, I was four years old. This makes Michael Jackson...even older. And much scarier. I like to think that somewhere, there's an alternate universe in which a non-modified-but-still-talented Michael Jackson grows into a happily wrinkled old man with a big nose and ebony skin.

Babble babble babble. I've just been told by our Altiris Deployment Server that we've exceeded our client license count. This saddens me greatly.

[Previous entry: "Forums?"] [Return to archive...] [Next entry: "I'm next"]