Journal de rêve

Rêve du 21*22 février 2009

***

Ma maison de Deux-Montagnes.
Vide... elle ressemble à une de ces maisons modèles Remax; un condo-démo qui ne sert qu'à jeter de la poudre aux yeux d'acheteurs potentiels.
Trop propre, trop grise.
Vide.
Sauf pour la vendeuse Remax... et ma tante.
Au sous-sol, ma vieille chambre de Croissant Mathys avec sa colonne de verre et le poster de minous au plafond.
Le train passe dans la cour.
Rien de spectaculaire.

***

Toronto, transport public.
Dans l'autobus, moi, Yannick et Monica B. sommes en route pour les cours. Nous sommes des étudiants "d'échange" en visite.
L'autobus est bondé, le centre-ville est étouffé par les gratte-ciels, les rues sont peu larges. Il y a du traffic.
Soudainement, le ciel s'obscurcit. Levant les yeux, un spectacle suprenant nous acceuille.
Tout comme une envolée d'oiseaux migrateurs, une flotte d'avions de tous acabits voile le ciel. Les gros airbus se disputent l'espace avec les plus petits appareils; jets privés, Cessnas et autres. Il y a quelques hélicoptères, des jets et même une navette spatiale. Tous volent à très basse altitude; les lumières des gratte-ciels caressent leurs ventres gonflés. Ils volent en sens inverse de nous.

L'autobus continue son chemin sous cette toile étrange puis débouche hors des tours à bureaux. La scène est mise de manière époustouflante. Le ciel devant nous est couleur charbon. D'énormes nuages étouffent l'horizon. Noirs, gris, violets et crépitants de foudre bleue, ils s'avançent menaçants vers la ville. La tempête est de taille et il n'y a aucun doute dans notre esprit qu'il nous faut trouver refuge car la catastrophe est de proportion quasi-nucléaire.



Engagé sur l'autoroute, l'autobus se rue vers l'extérieur de la ville. Autour de nous, voitures et autres bus suivent le même mouvement. À notre gauche, des trains s'échappent du centre-ville à toute allure. Puis, soudainement, dans un horrible bruit de métal et de tôle froissée, un train déraille et un des wagons happe un bus adjacent au nôtre dans une traînée de feu et d'acier. Dans notre autobus, c'est la panique totale et pourtant, Monica B. reste calme.

Finalement arrivé à la station de métro, je descend du bus et encourage Monica B. et Yannick à me suivre. Il faut nous mettre à l'abri, c'est urgent! Pourtant, aucun des deux ne semble intéressé à sortir du véhicule. Tant pis, je cours sous terre....

Pour aboutir dans le food-court d'un centre d'achats souterrain où ma mère est en train de commander du PFK avec mon frère et ma soeur, beaucoup plus jeunes qu'ils ne devraient l'être. En panique mais soulagée de la voir là, je cours vers elle. Elle semble calme et s'exclame sur l'horreur de la catastrophe qui approche au-dessus de nos têtes. Néanmoins, elle a confiance en cet endroit pour la garder saine et sauve. Quant à moi, j'ai besoin de savoir ce qui se passe. je remonte...

Et abouti sur un terrain vague tout près de l'aéroport. D'où je me tiens, j'ai une vue parfaite sur les pistes, bondées d'avions qui se bousculent pour décoller en direction de Montréal. À l'horizon, les gratte-ciels se sont fait dévorer par l'horrible tempête...

Ja...

Aaridys
There are those who look at things the way they are, and ask why... I dream of things that never were, and ask why not? Robert Kennedy

Humeur: Yep...
Musique: 'Call me when you're sober' Evanscence

Amour

Ouf! Pas minuit encore, je suis safe!

Bonne Saint-Valentin!

Et en cadeau de justement ça, un des plus beaux amours qui existe...

Pour V et Darya

Aaridys

Humeur: Complètement au 7ième ciel!
Musique: Era "Don't You Forget"

The Movie/Game/Book etc... Rant

Well at least her dress is torn... although I'm not sure if its because of the jungle adventure or... I mean, he kinda looks like he's leering at her...

For the first time in my life this winter of 2009, I watched Peter Jackson's King Kong.
In Margarita, Venezuela.
On a crappy Zenith TV.
With spanish subtitles no less.

But all of this, except for the very first statement, is not what makes this movie a total waste of electricity, not to mention three hours. More on this below...

Some people... well... no, I shouldn't say it like that... Those who know me generally accept that I will sneer and look down upon those many things that too many of us get hyper over. Be it a movie, a game, a book, a TV show... whatever it may be, the more you create an anticipation around it, the less inclined I shall be interested... unless I've hyped myself up on my own, which is rare but not impossible.

And here's why;

Epic stories, destroyed. Grand ideas, trampled. Intricate plots, wasted. Enormous capital, spent all on Happy Meals advertisements and not on actual quality. And that's only the biz machine.

But let's not put aside friends, relatives and co-workers working up a buzz about upcoming projects as well.

Now, let me make a clarification though. Anticipation is all good. After all, how many amazing previews have we seen that were linked to as amazingly good pieces - Transformers anyone? But how many more were linked to horrendous pieces of cinematography that only belong in the Hall of Fame of Odities? And I'm being nice.

So, boiling down all this, it comes to it: Anticipating something, yes. Placing it on a pedestal before actually seeing the finished product, touching it, experimenting it, tasting it, whatever! No!

Which is why it took me so long to watch King Kong. Which is why I snubbed Superman Returns and many others. The more effect put on a product not actually in existence yet, the less I'll be inclined, personal preferences aside.

One must draw the parallel with vacuum sellers. Or, more in my line of work if you'd prefer, credit card sellers. We are bombarded with them every single day of our lives and yet, we feel so jaded. Doesn't constant publicity bore you? Annoy you?

But why is it seeing Jack Sparrow's face on a Coke drink at McD's incite you to higher levels of glee? Wasn't seeing his face on your Happy Meal enough? Or in the metro, in the bus, on TV, on the radio, in your magazines, on your little rubber rainboots or even... on a cake at the grocery store at some point getting a little TOO MUCH?

Mmm... mayhaps its Johnny Depp...

That brings me to personal preference. One phrase I like to quote when in an argument about the "good" or "bad" value of something is this: "You may like, I don't. Vice-versa." After all, we can't all get along and love the same things. My best friend loves slashers and I personally can't stand them. They're either in "Bad Taste" (pun intended) or hilarious. I adore quiet, deeply psychological genres. She falls asleep on them. But we still get along. ^_^

All this being said does not make my reasoning ironclad against lemons and not all things I snub in this way turn out to be crap. Once I got down to it, I very much enjoyed Superman Returns. I felt it was a refreshing but yet true-to-form return of the most popular alien of all time (after ET of course!). It was a nicely done picture as well. A bit too "styled" but it was consistent. And not in-your-face obnoxious either.

Which, finally, finally gets me to King Kong.
Whoe me, I'm so glad I didn't bother to watch it at the theater, buy it, rent it or even borrow it.
No amount of coaxing could force me through that again. Ever.

Three friggin' hours.
Of gratuitous, pointless, very-much-too "styled" action sequences which served no purpose other than to promote CG - which BTW, were not that good either. Sure the Kong is amazingly detailed. But he "looks" digital, which I didn't feel served the general ensemble well.

Three - huh - hours...
Of a girl in a white dress being thrown, tossed, fall down, scrape, bruise and hit foliage, mud, large animals, water, shrubs worse than a GI in the Vietnam jungle but that ultimately gets out of all that still wearing a STILL white, immaculate and WHOLE dress!! I don't think even dwarves could have made a mythril suit that amazingly invincible. Wow, I mean, hats off to the design team. I worship your seamstresses! Seriously! How many friggin' copies must that movie have needed? Oh and need I mention the hair? Nah...

Three... lord... hours!!
Plot got lost in too many holes. Our paved roads here in Quebec just pale in comparison.

Three... zzZzz... huh?
The famous scream was worth the 15 minutes it took for it to happen though. ^_^

So there you have it. My rule of thumb is generally to wait until I feel I really must watch/read/play this thing at least once, at least to give the poor thing a chance and not form a judgement before actually experimenting with the dang thing. That waiting period being flexible depending on my own preference. So unless I've worked myself into a drooling frenzy of wait - Wolverine - I won't bother. I'll just bid my time and let the ashes settle first.

Cheers,

Aaridys

Humeur: Capricieuse
Musique: "White Flag" Dido