Still at my parents' house. Not much to say at the moment, or time to say it. I was able to bring my work with me, which is good, since I still have two and a half pages to colour for Chapter 8, rough drawings to do for Chapter 9 as well as a little work on the script. But I've had more time here than usual to watch movies, and last night I watched Rashomon. If any other movie has addressed the human tendency to lie to oneself to preserve sanity with such eloquence and compassion, I've yet to see it.
I'm back in a Kurosawa mood, most definitely, so I dropped by my grandmother's house to grab Seven Samurai. Though I'm wondering if I'm actually more in the mood for Stray Dog or Throne of Blood.
I have to admit, I sort of admire the McCain campaign's ability to unflinchingly deliver unequivocal lies about Sarah Palin, most notably about her supposed opposition to the bridge to nowhere when in fact she was a proponent of the plan. Not to mention her various shenanigans with tax money, like paying herself to stay in her own home while she's billing herself as someone opposed to frivolous government spending. I would be hesitant to lie so blatantly, but I guess the McCain people knew enough about human nature that at least half of the electorate is intensely stupid, willing to judge the candidates more on what they say than on what they do.
I guess there's a stubborn team-minded entrenchment at work, too. Like my mother's Republican friend who was angry after Obama pointed out that McCain, who often claims he'd follow Bin Laden to the gates of hell, won't even follow him to his cave. My mother's friend insisted Obama was accusing McCain of cowardice. Some people really are attached to the cocoons they weave for themselves.
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