O Cap'n, where art thou?

Tis true, dear readers, that your Cap'n has been mentally absent from the last round of posts. I could whisper sweet nothings in your ears and pretend that it was all some misunderstanding, but the truth is I've had Scheiße zu machen.


I had shit to do. But, as I remain dearly devoted Dexter to my readers, I shall endeavor to be less "absent father figure" today and make with the cinematic chatter, which I assume is why you folks keep coming back.

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In the past three days, I watched Raising Arizona twice (the second time quite by accident; my industrious nature as a student foolishly led me down the path of assuming everyone else would independently view the film, and you know what they say about assumptions...) To wit, the second time was a bit better than the first, as I was predominantly occupied in a strange and unseemly head space on Monday, of which I will say no more.

Dr. Adams made his best effort to pitch Raising Arizona as the Some Like It Hot to Billy Wilder's Sunset Boulevard, but there's very little doubt in my mind the brothers Coen were making a live action cartoon. The second go-around in seventy two hours bore out this theory, as the film is largely bloodless, despite innumerable rounds of ammunition spent, broken noses, and exploding Randal "Tex" Cobb's.

I'm still formulating a good point of reference for the film, as it loosely borrows from the Looney Tunes and Tex Avery catalog, and much of the set pieces clearly inform what they would make later (take, for example, the gas station scene in Raising Arizona and juxtapose it with No Country for Old Men, or the obsession George Clooney has for Pomade in O Brother Where Art Thou?). At any rate, the Cap'n is quite certain I'll have a working thesis for Raising Arizona by Saturday or something to that effect*.

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I hope folks don't mind that "One Bourbon, One Scotch, and One Beer" is more likely than not going to be on February 13th. The whole Valentine's Day Weekend thing doesn't really mean much here at Blogorium central, and if I need to pitch it thusly, look at it as a cheap excuse to drink your romantic woes away. Just don't expect yr master of ceremonies to join in; I have to stay sober enough to keep you from talking me into Teenage Mother again.

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On that note, I'm 60% certain I can get this German homework done and still watch some Doctor Who. It's about time to say goodbye to David Tennant, even if I don't share the overwhelming disdain for new Doctor Matt Smith. Please refrain from passing judgment on the new Doctor, folks. He could be just what the Cap'n ordered...


* I mean, I'd better. Discussion is on Monday and there's some business about papers to be sussed out.