Gods, I wish every day could be as good as to-day. It's one of those days it's good to be a drawer. An artist who draws, I mean, not part of a chest of drawers. Though I'm sure that has its perks, too.
The visiting family was busy doing something else to-day, so I took to-day to get as close to caught up as possible. I spent seven hours pencilling the last two pages of Chapter 9 and I think it helped a lot that they were two pages I'd very much been looking forward to drawing. Also helping me; a full eight hours of sleep under my belt. I think I actually got a lot less sleep on Sunday night than I thought I did, because Monday I was experiencing all the things I normally experience with sleep deprivation; spaciness, indecisiveness, confusion, and a pounding headache.
I ended up going to Tim's and playing Soulcalibur 4 in the evening and I sucked. I was testing out "specking" characters (as Tim puts it when he's gearing his multiple World of Warcraft characters for different types of gameplay) with the different clothes and weapons that modify stats. I'd previously constructed only high-hitpoint, healing characters, as I generally find the best defence is a good defence. But there's a stage in The Tower of Souls I'm on that requires you to beat up some people fast. So I tried gearing a character for damage, only to find I did even more poorly than I did with the healing characters. I do think I might chalk it up to sleep deprivation, though.
I got to sleep at 2am and woke up at 10am. Unheard of hours for me. But to-day I luxuriated in the feeling of being adequately rested. I've had so many friends who seem to feel it doesn't really matter if they get only three hours of sleep a night. The difference, I must insist, is like the difference between a life-sized bust of Jiminy Cricket and Mount. Rushmore.
This morning I watched the new Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, which I liked a lot more by the end of the episode than I thought I was going to at the beginning of the episode. John Connor's got a slightly annoying yet oddly credible new girlfriend named (ugh) Reilly. The girl playing her is ridiculously hot, and it kills me she's not constantly naked, but she's somehow not great looking outside the show. And her name is Leven Rambin, which sounds like something tossed about by an agent and her consultants. But who wouldn't Leven Rambin? I got loopy one night when I accidentally took twelve Rambin. They need to come in bigger tablets. I wonder if the English call her "Leave-in Rambin". Nicolas Cage drinks himself to death in Vietnam with Sylvester Stallone in Leavin' Rambo.
Holy shit, it's her real name, I just looked it up. Er . . . That's fucking weird, man. You can take it from me, Trompe Setsuled.
I suppose I'll get around to watching the new Heroes at some point this week. Maybe. Ever since hearing Mike Nelson riff on the first two episodes, I don't think I'd be able to take it even the tiniest bit seriously. That is about how seriously I used to manage taking it; the tiniest bit.
I also watched the final episode of School Rumble this morning. It wasn't bad, and came a lot closer to a satisfying resolution than 90% of even decent anime series. But it had kind of created an irresolvable situation, so the writers did pretty well, considering.
My favourite thing I've read to-day was this from Kevin Murphy at the Rifftrax blog regarding the new hit song "I Kissed a Girl";
To the one, all of my nieces have declared this song annoying, not because they were offended in any way, or because of any sense of cultural prudishness or sexual/social orientation. That’s the beauty of bad music: it reaches across all cultural boundaries and annoys everyone. However, I feel bad for Katy Perry, who will have to sing this song at least ten thousand times before she dies.
The lyrics to this song have a sort of head-to-cement simplicity, the sort of intellectual equivalent of swallowing insulation as the established tableau of one verse gives way to naught but the re-establishment of tableau. The sort of snake eating its tail quality, only the snake has the brain of one of The Three Stooges.
No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter,
You're my experimental game
Just human nature,
It's not what,
Good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey
It's like Arnold Schwarzenegger wrote a song.
Show 'em how it's done, Morrissey;
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