Why does The Indy always send people who hate good movies to review good movies? I am reminded of a time a few years back when the reviewer they sent to NEVERMORE started his review by noting how much he loathed horror films and I just had to slap my forehead. Seriously, Indy? Let me clue you in: I hate a lot of things. Let’s take, say, flying. I hate flying. You know what I did not become? A travel writer.
It seems like it wouldn’t be that hard to work out.
As for me, I can’t quite get my head around it enough just yet to describe in detail why I so loved Let the Right One In (standing tall with a 98% on rottentomatoes.com as I type this) but I can note that I just completely loved it and that it’s probably my favorite vampire movie of all time. Go see it, but hurry; its last day at the Carolina Theatre of Durham is Thursday.
Dreamhost has begun supporting Gallery 2.3 as a one-click install/upgrade which is awesome because it includes Akismet anti-spam capabilities. Until recently I had to go through every few days and delete a couple dozen spam comments to keep my gallery presentable. Since the upgrade, not a one. Sweet.
This means I can more comfortably point out that my cats are adorable. Surely this is an observation unique to the internet.
On to other, freakier topics: last night I was going around the house locking up and such prior to going out to eat when I heard a muffled thud outside near the front of the house. I didn’t see anything and the sound in question could come from a million innocent sources and the cats did not run and hide so I didn’t think much of it but I kept my eyes peeled when I went out the back door, through our super-clangy gate (made of purest audium, guaranteed to wake the dead) and around the side of the house to get in the car. What did I espy? A dude in a jogging suit or something like it with a hat or a hood that shaded his face completely standing across the street looking in my direction. When I stepped out of the shadows and into the relative light of the driveway he took off running. I do not mean that he began to jog, I mean that he burst into full-bore pedestrian flight complete with frequent glances back over his shoulder at me.
Nothing seemed amiss with the house so I leapt into the car and tried to chase him but by the time I was in, had it started, got up the drive and was down the street he was nowhere to be seen. Aha, I thought, My coincidental timing has scared him away.
Then I got to thinking, what if he comes back while I’m at dinner?
The way I figured, if it were a harmless misunderstanding – say, a vigorous and perhaps slightly skittish jogger – then I could sup without concern. Were he a would-be opportunistic burglar or thief of some sort and I’d simply surprised him with my gate-clangings as he, for instance, considered breaking into the car of the neighbor across the street, then I’d probably scared him so badly that he was long gone and I could, again, sup without concern. The third option was that he was the sort who would be back in moments and in that case, you know what? Fuck that, I was going to dinner and getting out of his damned way.
I did call 911, though, and they sent a prowl car out to do a couple of laps and see if they could spot someone matching the description, such as it was. Weird. When I got home I went through yard and around house and inside and all the closets and rooms with a flashlight but nothing turned up. Bizarre.