I’ve been too engrossed with my anime hunts and acquisitions to post on this blog. Before that, I was completely under the zombiefying thrall of Alexandre Dumas’ ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’. My hands were glued to that thick volume and I couldn’t remove my eyes from the pages of microsized fonts. I just read and read and read. It is the sort of novel I wouldn’t want to see a movie of because whenever books turn to scripts, the story gets mangled and the characters deform in the mutating process. The movie was released a few years ago and didn’t survive the box office. I can’t even remeber who acted as the Count. (I would consider watching it if he’s John Malkovich)
Oh God. The actor’s Jesus himself. Jim Caviezel from the ‘Passion of Christ’. Amen.
Nothing could be a worse example than ‘ Memoirs of a Geisha’. I’m glad to use ‘f**king shit’ to express my annoyance on not just the hideous casting but the garish set. The scandalous casting of Chinese women to play geishas is a direct slap on the face. I’m not a Chinese nationalist but what were they thinking, those f**king white devils? How would they like it if an asian director casts a Russian to play Abraham Lincoln? It made good publicity, it got the Chinese really excited for less ardourous reasons. Furthermore, the book is boring to start with. I read it years ago and condemned it to the “Dust collectors” section. Oh yeah, and it’s written by a male ang moh.
I much prefer to watch a delightful version of it from this link my friend was so kind to offer me.
Haha, I love “It hard…”, an accurate description of Miss Zhang’s language skills.
It’s been a long time since I made any entries here.
I was too busy cramming the piles of anime [still outstanding*, even in this last minute] almost everyday. Well, here are some of the critical updates of 2005.
*oustanding as in excellent and also in balance sheet terms, unwatched.
2 days before Christmas was Ladies’ night at the Ministry of Sound. Miss Ringo, Miss E & I made our way to the Ministry from Clarke Quay MRT. As we strolled on the bridge to the other end, engrossed in introductions and anticipation, I found myself stepping on air momentarily. In the next, I could hear a dull crack as my right foot hit solid ground and took on the sudden shift in weight [all –kg of it!].
I sprained my right foot on the first trip to MOS.
The ground was wet, the air was humid, the queue was long and my right foot throbbed in pain.
But my desire to attend the sound mass did not dampen.
And I paid the price.
By the end of the night, the pain was excruciating that I could not walk without Miss Ringo’s support. I am grateful that she offered to send me home or I would have twisted my heel to the front in self-destructive frustration.
As I limped my way to 2006, I feel that my sense of time is marked by the start and end of school terms. I do not look forward to the unnecessary and brain-disintegrating schoolwork. Drifting from one year to the next, minute by minute, I’ve yet to find a distinct destination in life that I can sacrifice anything for [sh*t I think I watch too much anime]. For now, I’m in a less upbeat mood. Probably because the sprain has forced me to slow down my footsteps so I can feel for the 1st time a life at a different pace. The passage of time feels different but it is still the same. Change is always constant. I don’t know if I’ve changed alot in 2005.[I’m certain my waistline did] I’m in such a melancholy mood.
Anyhow, this entry is shitty. And no surprises since it’s Kuso Monday.