Greetings from mars. Well more like the moon. I’ve been working on this little book thing and distracting forces have been attacking my tiny studio from the inside and outside so I’ve rented a room in a cheap hotel in Santa Rosa for three days in the hope of getting some solid writing time in. We’ll see, but a little bloggy-blog can get the juices flowing sometimes.
The coffee pot is full, the typewriter primed (well… okay my typewriter has been collecting dust on top of my bookshelf for a while now… replace smith corona with dell latitude – model d820) and I can’t find the promised HBO on the motel television so something is bound to happen.
I may sneak out a few times to see some old hometown friends while I’m here. There are a couple of local shows tomorrow night, in particular, that I want to check out.
The drive here should have taken about an hour, but ended up clocking in around twice that do to some hellish rain and freaked out drivers, but it gave me time to think about something.
Gremlins. I watched gremlins last night with a friend who had never seen it - despite being the same age as me and growing up in America.
So in gremlins there’s this scene where the mom becomes aware that the mogwai have hatched from their larva stage (now they’re gremlins) and are wandering the house. When she’s confronted in the kitchen by a few gremlins she proceeds to butcher the lot of them by the most gruesome means possible.
At this point in the movie she is unaware of the danger she’s in. This is like if you walked into the kitchen, saw a few raccoons (or maybe little green men) and started throwing them in blenders, nuking them in microwaves and stabbing them to death with knives – completely unprovoked.
I’m just saying. That was kind of fucked up.
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