Thursday, May 10, 2007

an irregular shot of cutting-edge media criticism

- In which we confess that watching Spiderman 3 gave us a real blinding headache, in spite of our puzzling, solitary crush on Hollywood's answer to Luna Lovegood, Kirsten Dunst. We think she has immense screen presence, and isn't half as annoying as that other young stunner who expects to be taken seriously, Scarlett Johansson. Tobey Maguire: no. Thomas Haden Church: why? James Franco: it pains our heart to thus disapprove of the charming grin and the crinkly eyes, but no.

None of you can act. Stay in Room 101 forevermore.

It's not that we have a problem with emo!Spiderman. Far from it. We loved emo!Superman in 'Superman Returns' and the inherently emo!Batman - yes, that would be Bruce 'My mum and dad are dead, and now you must die!' Wayne - gets our ears a-tingle. There is not a single excuse for being boring, even if your inexplicably sky-high popularity means that you will reel the suckers in to come see your matches every weekend (sorry, must have channelled Jorge Valdano there for a minute) come see your movies every Friday.

- We can't usually be stirred to have an opinion of much of what passes before our boredom-blinded eyes on the telly, but Avril Lavigne's new guff (or relatively new, we don't really watch VH1 all that often) does make us want to do exactly what she claims to do to young women everywhere: kick her arse. We can't work up the annoyance to do that to that Shakira&Beyonce belly-dancing monstrosity everyone is drooling over, since we are still covering our eyes, pained and horrified by the gratuitous bump and grind of it all.

- We have no idea why we are extremely, irrationally sad to not be the first people to read Michael Chabon's new book.

- And end with the confession that 'we,' in this case, is really just me.

- Also, Aishwarya might be coming to Hyd! On May 23rd! Which probably means neither of us will live to blog the morning after, having torn each other apart for supporting opponents during the Champions' League final.

Finally, pictorial representation of what we (my roommates and I) have decided to follow as our main plan of action to secure a home of our own over the next couple of months.

(if you believe that this is us me pandering shamelessly to my vociferous female football-loving readership, you will not be a hundred miles from the truth. But I really enjoy the sheer drama and fortuitous composition of this snap, too - the rain, the splayed hands, the hideous uniform proving that there are some cases in which it does not actually blind fans.)

End emo!boy post. Next on agenda: actual content.


current musix: dhoom 2 - touch me, don't touch me.

if this blog has any readers who, having once listened to the d:2 ost, have successfully broken themselves out of the debilitating and soul-destroying habit of putting it on repeat, please get in touch asap.