What bears remembering

Sushi dinners, sitting in comfort on a low futon, mutual drooling over the hot women of the Joss Whedon universe. This is what bears remembering.

Smoke rising over a ruined battle field, the decimation inflicted on Dark Eldar and 1000 Sons alike, pulling out a draw with a hard to use army. This is what bears remembering.

Cool cans of Strongbow. The soft flutter of vinyl straps as they fan from the bottom of a skirt. Finding yourself deep in animated conversation, flashing eyes and warm skin. This is what bears remembering.

Slightly awry

( Spoilery info about Dawn of the OHMYGODahhhAHHHHHHH!!! )

Several times on the way home, I looked around at the overcast landscape, and could easily imagine zombies running around, wrecked cars, smoke and fire. It was that kind of day.

I was turning in for the evening, and the zombie images were still fresh in my head. I could close my eyes and see the onrushing cannibalistic hordes, and I was certain I'd dream about them. Browsing through my DVD library, I settled on Amadeus as a pre-bed movie. 3 hours of beautiful music and costumes should provide a solid buffer against zombie dreams. There were two points that ruined that plan. In the first five minutes of the film, you get a walk through of an asylum. Raving lunatics and raving corpses sound a lot alike. The second point was at the end of the movie, when Mozart dies in bed. It was one of the last images I saw, and I could just picture Wolfie shambling out of bed, consuming his wife and son and Salieri in one last moment of ironic revenge.

In the end, musicians triumphed over zombies. For now.