For those of you who still don't believe that the world hates me, here's a compelling tidbit of evidence:
Yesterday, the day Boston officially turned "motherfucking Cold" (with a capital "C"), is the day my ID card stopped working on the card readers that get me into MIT buildings. Yes, that means standing outside in the Cold. At 1 am. Waiting for someone to walk by and let me in.
But that's all the complaining I'm going to do for now.
I just watched a silent film, Pandora's Box, which is an adaptation of a play by German author Wedekind. (I thought it was French, but turns out Wedekind just spent a decade or so canoodling with circus performers in Paris before he wrote it.) The play was utterly incomprehensible, but the film was amazing. True, it took most of the "expression" (i.e., shock, terror, and promiscuous sex) out of Wedekind's work of Expressionism, but I liked it just the same. Now I know what people mean when they say that sound ruined cinema.
Oh, and I found out one of Chandler's relatives used to be a pianist for silent film...raddest thing ever!
Oooooh, I have been reading so many interesting things lately that I wish I could write about here but...I have work to do...blast!