greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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"And I could make you rue the day, but I could never make you stay."

I grew up in a land of monstrous thunderstorms. Here in Rhode Island, they're rare. But one hit this morning about 6:30 a.m. The thunder woke us, rolling over the city. I'd had a rough night, hardly sleeping, and I was too groggy to register it was anything more than a thunderstorm. I lay there listening. The rain hit hard, and Kathryn closed the bedroom window. There was sheet lightning and wind that gusted up to 67 mph. Trees are down all over the state. Kathryn says she got up and the sky was green. I know that sky. In the South, that's the sky that means the tornadoes have come.

Oh, and it's Selwyn's Gotcha Day. Three years ago, on August 4, 2012, the little bastard came to live with us. He weighed a couple of pounds. Now he weighs seventeen.

Today, I'll assemble Sirenia Digest #114, which includes "Dry Bones" and the new illustration Vince Locke did for the piece. The plan had been to immediately write a second vignette, one for Sirenia Digest #115, but – as I mentioned in my August 2nd post, an idea was not forthcoming. And as of today there's no more time to sit here waiting on one. I have to get back to work on Agents of Dreamland. Maybe I'll think of something in the next two weeks.

We have a copy of Black Helicopters up on eBay. Please have a look. Thanks.

Fuck, I needed more sleep, to sleep off the fucking shit I take to sleep.

Saturday night, we watched the surprisingly excellent It Follows (2014), directed by David Robert Mitchell. I'd not expected to enjoy it, suspecting it wouldn't be much more than a stylish slasher film. It is, however, something a bit more, and it manages to transcend the long and tiresome tradition of imperiled-teenager horror films. Filmed beautifully against the backdrop of Detroit ruin and decay, the story exists in a timeless, dream-logic place, in an age more akin to the late seventies or early eighties than now, with only a single, very sly nod to the present. Dostoyevsky hovers like a ghost. As for the "It" of the title, well, I found myself thinking of Peter Straub's manitou, and, obviously, of various urban legends, and also of chain letters. A superb and genuinely eerie film.

On Sunday, we escaped the swelter of the house and went to an afternoon matinee of Mr. Holmes, Bill Condon's adaptation of Mitch Cullin's wonderful novel A Slight Trick of the Mind. I was very pleased to see that Condon has in every way done the novel justice. Ian McKellen was great as the nonagenarian Sherlock Holmes struggling with senility, but there's no surprise there. A beautiful film, worthy of its source.

And, finally, on Sunday night we saw – very much belatedly, John Hillcoat's Lawless (2012), screenplay by Nick Cave, music by Cave and Warren Ellis. How we waited so long to see this, I have no idea. While not as grim as The Road (2009) or The Proposition (2005), it's a gritty enough look at moonshinners in Prohibition-Era Virginia, following the exploits of the real-life Bondurant brothers. I loved it, but I see the critics were not so kind. Fuck the critics.

Those are three words to live by, kiddos: "Fuck the critics."

Gotta go.

Aunt Beast
Tags: "dry bones", 2012, black helicopters, critics, good movies, insomnia, john hillcoat, mitch cullin, nick cave, selwyn, sherlock holmes, sirenia digest, sleep, thunderstorms, too much work

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