watching horror movies since 1974

Have you seen Superbad yet? Go see it. Right now.

I’m not really certain how it happened, but I sort of accidentally heard a song from Wicked the other day. Despite, or in fact, because of my checkered past involvement with the madness that is musical theater, I have very little fondness for musicals themselves. Oh sure, I’ve had my fun being in the chorus of one obsolete clunker after another, but actually watching a musical stage production is about as enjoyable to me as chewing on tinfoil. Musicals are formulaic, contrived, and unforgivably sentimental and I don’t forgive easily.

Yet I am compelled toward them, like some freaked out, completely stoned moth to a flame. I must hear the music and absorb the vocal performances, testing them like I would a fine Gewürztraminer; first the visual inspection, a little swirl in the glass, a tentative sip, then gulping it down until I can’t remember where I live. So, stumbling across that kicky little song on YouTube the other day sent me into a musical theater binge, the likes of which I haven’t seen in some time. I couldn’t get the lilting, silly thing out of my head. I don’t know any of the words so I couldn’t sing it in the shower, thereby purging it from my head by way of my mouth. It was stuck. Or rather, one single word was stuck: popular.

Or rather, Pop-yoooooooooo-oo-LAR. If you’ve heard it, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, you are a fortunate soul indeed.

I had to get it out. Drowning this demonic thing was going to take a serious tool, something like a Dremel for the mind. I knew at once what I had to do. Evita.

(more…)

Seattle was so nice. See how relaxed I look?

that’s not going to last.