Since I was missing the man in black, I picked out Quills, which had Joaquin, all dressed in black. as a tortured priest no less, complete with self flagellations, oh my. The character's tragic disintegration aside, I've never seen Joaquin look prettier than he does in this film. It has been ages since I've seen it, and I'd almost forgotten. How pretty he is, all gazing soulfully and stuff.
The story, ranging from farce to grotesque brutality, is very European in tone and even looks, drawing from natural palettes of blacks, browns and greys. It also offers up some pointed comments on censorship, morality, brutal state, organisational and theological repression, the whole civilisation vs animal instincts argument and the flawed creaure that is man.
Well, that's the high flalutin' film wank way of looking at it. One can also enjoy it for the scene where a hysterical Joaquin rips his clothes off. Heh. If one were so inclined, that is.
I suppose, being a purveyor of badly written porn, I know where my sympathies lie, and even though the Marquis was beaten down, he remained defiant, and somewhat victorious, as his porn lives on, immortal. Heh. Immortal porn - is there any finer legacy?
So yes, the film did demonstrate that porn was bad, leading to violence and ruined marriages in those so easily influenced, but the film also poked at the hypocrisy of those who would seek to deny or destroy it. You know, the whole they doth protest too much thang.
So that was a fun night. Pretty, brooding Joaquin.
It's raining, but not so hard as to require the enormous boat that's parked in the park opposite, I shouldn't think. Wtf?
It'll probably come out sunny like it always does, then those late risers will look at me strangely and think I imagine rain all the time.
Yesterday wasn't too bad. The problem with having a lot of women in the office is that it can get Heathers nasty most days, but an upside is that when you have to rearrange a meeting around your hormones, they usually will make allowances. So yesterday afternoon I briefed SWMBO on the new site, so she can take it to Management. Not ideal, and another nail in my so called career, but it was the better option, and having some actual face time, as those whacky folks to the extreme northeast of us like to say, I managed to get my sentences finished and I think she was stunned that I actually knew my stuff. Certainly she dug out some ancient reports I'd written and requested more of the same.
Which would be great, if not for the fact I'd just been bemoaning that it's so long since I've written anything deeper than a chit for the Dept that when I look at old stuff I can't even imagine the person who wrote it, and I certainly don't remember all those big words. So it could be problematical. Oooh, there's a big word. Gotta get back in practice.
PM update. Rather a crap day at work. They're all in and exceedingly grumpy. Tried to salvage the day with lunch out, but that didn't work, either. Met AP down at Customs House because I thought she'd like looking at the old hats and stuff but she wasn't that into it at all. Then we had lunch at the very rude and snooty eatery in the foyer, and far, far snootier than a library cafe has any reason being, imho. It started off with asking if Madame had a booking, as I gazed upon a vista of empty tables, and went downhill from there. The food was great, but the manager made no bones about the fact he wanted rid of us. Worse, muckity mucks from the office were sitting on the table behind me, so I couldn't bitch about work, which crimped my style no end, as you can imagine.
I'm also being loudly mocked over the fact that I've crashed in a trough, trying to cut back on my sudden coffee addiction. Apparently I'm staggering around like a 45 on 33 1/3 and it must be very funny. Either that or the day is as boring as I think it is.
Then the conversation tuned to sunnboys, for the second time this week. Those frozen pyramids of organge cordial that were brilliant on hot school days, and the syrup would always melt first and you'd get this full on sugar rush before you were just left with watery ice. Oh man, that rush. Those who have sunnyboyed will know what I mean. Ah, happy childhood memories. But talk about programming myself for sugar rushes. Oh man...I need sugary coffee, and I need it now.
Oh, and in answer to my ponderings as to whether Life on Mars has been slashed yet, the answer is...bloody hell it has.
Life on Mars
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