I just opened the jewel case that should contain my copy of Nirvana's In Utero, only to discover that it's empty. I don't think I've listened to the album since I left Athens in 1997, so I'm guessing some wasted douchebag stole it at some party or another. That used to happen a lot. Wasted douchebags in your house stealing your shit. So, I'm listening to Nevermind, instead. But I want to be listening to In Utero. So, fuck you, long-ago thief of my Nirvana CD.

I've received my initial (though not final) schedule for Readercon 23, and it looks pretty good. I don't yet have the readings, autograph session, or solo presentation. I'm going to wait until I have the full schedule to post anything. But, suffice to say, it appears as if I won't be sleeping Saturday night, if only because I have a ten o'clock panel Sunday morning, and then the Shirley Jackson awards to co-host. I'd rather be exhausted and hungover than oversleep and miss everything. There are a lot of people coming I haven't seen in ages, and I imagine wonderful nights of conversation! It might help with the weirdness of sharing the Guest of Honour slot with Peter.

Spooky's out, downtown picking up my new glasses.*

Warmer today, and sunny. Presently, it's 72˚F. We are promised genuine summer temperatures next week, which means I begin my ocean swimming for the season. I'd hoped to be in better shape before then, but I wasn't permitted to stop writing long enough this past winter and cold spring to get a gymn membership.

Yesterday, I made a MOUNTAIN of corrections to "A Mountain Walked." It's actually a very cool story, but I wrote it with a disregard to Arthur Lakes' writing style (British spellings, ß for "ss," etc.). The composition was quicker that way. Only, the retrofitting required so much time I ought to have simply done it the correct way to start with. At least I got the man's voice right the first time around. Then, yesterday, I proofed the last two penciled pages of Alabaster: Wolves #5, and then all the coloured pages for #4. By the way, don't forget that #3 will be out on the 20th. Here's a great review of the issue from Kabooooom.com (review written by Forrest Helvie). No, I do not know why they used so many o's

Today, I predict, will be a total loss. The odds of this prediction proving correct I estimate at 85%. Don't ask.

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I want to write so much more about Prometheus, but presently have so little time (and I think the stuff cavalorn is writing is so good I'm a little intimidated). I do think that it's becoming obvious that this is the sort of SF film that will leave people talking for a long, long time, like, say, Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey and Scott's Blade Runner. Yes, it is truly that good, that smart, and that important. It's been a while since we had so significant an SF film. We've had near misses recently: Cameron's Avatar and Christopher Nolan's Inception came close. Maybe Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain. Alex Proyas' Dark City. (Oh, those three sentences will be pissing people off for days, I imagine. For a host of reasons.) By necessity, SF films this brilliant are devisive and polarizing. We get that "I love it/I loathed it" reaction, and this spawns the analyses.

For now, I just say, please see it. You don't have to adore it, or even think it's a work of genius – as do I, obviously – I only ask you go in with an open mind, that you pay close fucking attention to every line of dialogue and every frame of film, and that you think hard about what you've seen.

Eye Wide Open,
Aunt Beast

* The new prescription turns out to be disastrously wrong. More lost time, tomorrow.