|
contours provocations
journal - 2001-0118 - thu 2100 Pea Soup; Cool Depp; Deliberate Felines; "My feet hurt," Tom said flatly. When I left work this evening, fog was everywhere. Heavy, thick, pea soup fog. Car flowing north on the Interstate literally appeared to vanish into it. The hotel a couple of miles away was nowhere to be seen. Mysterious and creepy. Speaking of fog, last night I watched Tim Burton's "Sleepy Hollow" with Johnny Depp. Most impressive. Burton creates a world of mists and shadows and gloom, and all the surfaces seem slightly askew as though viewed through a fun-house mirror. Depp is one of my favorite performers. If for no other reason than his willingness to play very risky roles, ones that may not even be very successful. Here he is all darting eyes, nervous gestures and physical hesitations as the most reluctant of heroes. Someone at IMDB mentioned a comparison to Buster Keaton, and it is a thought worth considering. Depp is another one of those guys I find wonderfully cool and sexy. Last night, one of the cats woke me up around 3. Athena has learned that if she paws at the venetian blinds, I'll wake up. I threw a pillow at her, and she ran off to sulk in the living room. At one point, I would have considered such an event to be purely accidental. But I've learned that their actions can be very deliberate. Several weeks ago, Minerva was on top of the bedroom chest, and I placed a book next to her. She looked at it in utter disdain, and then pushed it onto the floor. Very deliberate. Tune in next time, when I'll discuss Tom Swifties. Those terrible adverbial puns that appeared in the Tom Swift books of yore. "My feet hurt," Tom said flatly. "My gosh, it's hot in here," Tom spoke heatedly. "I'll need to dig another trench," Tom yelled remotely. PAX!
|