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Aug. 28th, 2006 11:47 amBoston was fun. Despite being there about a day and a half, I managed to do a lot. Liz M and I walked around the entire city on the nice day (Saturday), and we were up so late Saturday night that I crashed out Sunday leaving only just enough time for me to see ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mephistakitten for like ten minutes and then go to the Body Worlds 2 exhibit at the Museum of Science.
( Body Worlds 2 review under here--click if you love plasticized corpses! )
That was a nice, intelligent diversion after what we did the night before. At the theater at Coolidge Corner, they do sorta fun movie nights each weekend, and Liz M spent the time I was there recounting how funny the "R Kelley Sing-A-Long" was (apparently, R Kelley made a movie, a hideously stupid one, and it was ripe for the mining of humor). They were having another one Saturday night--a Micheal Jackson sing-a-long. So, of course, we went.
( If you know the words, sing along! )
You know what? This may be disingenuous (or just plain obvious), but Michael Jackson? Very talented. Not the greatest lyricist, I grant you, but he was quite good at what he could do. His dance repetoire is actually a tad limited, since he repeated many of the same moves over and over, but he was very good at those moves, especially with making his limbs and joints seem entirely fluid. Also, I began to understand why he's so very broke--almost all of his videos in the King of Pop stage of his career are miniature movies, with all the detail and expense associated therewith. "Bad" was directed by Martin Scorcese, for crying out loud! And, for that matter, George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola were involved with Captain Eo (Lucas explains the sucking, but I can't figure out what Coppola was doing there).
( One other thing I noticed? Music is MJ's sex. )
So it wasn't an entirely brainless evening--it prompted me to dissect Michael Jackson along sex cultural biases. So that makes up for me shouting stupidly, "Is this the Free Willy song?" at one point during the show. Really, it does.
The bus ride home? Now that was brainless. A stupid fucking accident in Connecticut kept me on the bus for an hour and a half longer than I was meant to be, which, since I was supposed to get in around 11:30 meant I was rushing through Port Authority to get to the indoor entrance to the subway before it closed at 1 am. And worse than that? The bus movie was Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle. Which I've actually seen. MANY TIMES. It was the only movie (or, rather, the bestmovie, and that's saying something, isn't it?) on my ten-hour plane ride from Fiji to L.A., so I saw it multiple times there. It really doesn't get less abusively stupid with repeat viewings. The music is still pretty good, and I recognize more of it now (they played the opening riff of "Thunderkisses 65," thank you, Guitar Hero, and "Who Are You?" thank you CSI), but that's no compensation. No wonder I felt ill halfway through the ride.
And my light didn't work--again. I always get the night-time bus ride where there's no reading light. There was no way to ignore the blaring audio of stupid bleating from that stupid movie until it was over. If my iPod had given out before we made it home, I might have had to choke the driver (he was trying to joke with us, being clearly a foreigner, but making jokes about how, if we liked the trip, his name was Ben, and if not, Bin Laden? NOT FUNNY TO GROUP TRAVELLING TO NEW YORK CITY, dude).
Home now, kitties to cuddle. Fun trip just the same.
mephistakitten for like ten minutes and then go to the Body Worlds 2 exhibit at the Museum of Science.( Body Worlds 2 review under here--click if you love plasticized corpses! )
That was a nice, intelligent diversion after what we did the night before. At the theater at Coolidge Corner, they do sorta fun movie nights each weekend, and Liz M spent the time I was there recounting how funny the "R Kelley Sing-A-Long" was (apparently, R Kelley made a movie, a hideously stupid one, and it was ripe for the mining of humor). They were having another one Saturday night--a Micheal Jackson sing-a-long. So, of course, we went.
( If you know the words, sing along! )
You know what? This may be disingenuous (or just plain obvious), but Michael Jackson? Very talented. Not the greatest lyricist, I grant you, but he was quite good at what he could do. His dance repetoire is actually a tad limited, since he repeated many of the same moves over and over, but he was very good at those moves, especially with making his limbs and joints seem entirely fluid. Also, I began to understand why he's so very broke--almost all of his videos in the King of Pop stage of his career are miniature movies, with all the detail and expense associated therewith. "Bad" was directed by Martin Scorcese, for crying out loud! And, for that matter, George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola were involved with Captain Eo (Lucas explains the sucking, but I can't figure out what Coppola was doing there).
( One other thing I noticed? Music is MJ's sex. )
So it wasn't an entirely brainless evening--it prompted me to dissect Michael Jackson along sex cultural biases. So that makes up for me shouting stupidly, "Is this the Free Willy song?" at one point during the show. Really, it does.
The bus ride home? Now that was brainless. A stupid fucking accident in Connecticut kept me on the bus for an hour and a half longer than I was meant to be, which, since I was supposed to get in around 11:30 meant I was rushing through Port Authority to get to the indoor entrance to the subway before it closed at 1 am. And worse than that? The bus movie was Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle. Which I've actually seen. MANY TIMES. It was the only movie (or, rather, the bestmovie, and that's saying something, isn't it?) on my ten-hour plane ride from Fiji to L.A., so I saw it multiple times there. It really doesn't get less abusively stupid with repeat viewings. The music is still pretty good, and I recognize more of it now (they played the opening riff of "Thunderkisses 65," thank you, Guitar Hero, and "Who Are You?" thank you CSI), but that's no compensation. No wonder I felt ill halfway through the ride.
And my light didn't work--again. I always get the night-time bus ride where there's no reading light. There was no way to ignore the blaring audio of stupid bleating from that stupid movie until it was over. If my iPod had given out before we made it home, I might have had to choke the driver (he was trying to joke with us, being clearly a foreigner, but making jokes about how, if we liked the trip, his name was Ben, and if not, Bin Laden? NOT FUNNY TO GROUP TRAVELLING TO NEW YORK CITY, dude).
Home now, kitties to cuddle. Fun trip just the same.
