What to do with this information?

One: Nicholas Cage's career is sure...interesting. He's in a movie called Drive Angry, for which I have just seen this trailer.

A quick synopsis for those of you who won't subject yourselves to the trailer: Nicholas Cage breaks out of Hell to stop a Satanic cult from sacrificing his grandchild to, well, presumably let other things out of Hell besides Nicholas Cage. A truly delicious William Fichtner is Satan's helper, sent to retrieve him. Also, there's some eye-candy chick, who will probably follow a trajectory where she will be introduced as "fierce independent woman," then relegated to side-kick to actual hero with actual motivation, before finally slung into damsel in distress.

I can't quite tell, on a truly impressive scale of bad movies he's made, where this one falls. Surely, it has to be better than that lamentable The Wicker Man remake, but it may not be quite up to the schlocky fun of something like Gone in 60 Seconds, for all that is has lots of muscle cars in it. Shame. I do love me some William Fichtner. He's great when he's quietly menacing evil.

*****

Two: I have yet to sit down and watch Being Human. I heard that they were remaking it for the US, though, and I automatically rolled my eyes and swore, "God, is that really necessary?" to no one in particular. (I am getting funny looks at work now.) Then I found out genre fiction punching bag, fabulous-body-having, kind of adorkable and occasional bad-ass Jedi Apprentice Samuel "Crashdown/Doomsday/that time he was on Dexter/I think he was in The Mist" Witwer was going to be in it. Goddamnit, now I have to watch this, don't I?

AHEM, I said, "I have to watch this, don't I???"


That's what I thought. Funny thing I also just learned in trying to adjust text to fit this picture: there's some option that says "abs bottom" or something. I got stuck at abs, then giggled as I moved onto bottom. Ooh, yes please?

*****

Three (things make a post): For those of you not following me on Twitter, last night I fell off my bike. Rest assured, I'm really mostly injured when it comes to my pride. I tried to go up on a curb, in the rain, and there was just no way it wasn't going to go pear-shaped. I'm lucky I'm not worse off than I am. I have a cut and some skin rubbed off on one arm, which is now much more sore than it was yesterday, but still functional. Otherwise? Fine. I guess I'm finally a true biker in the city. Short of being doored, that is, which I could totally skip as an initiation ritual. Bike was making funny noises last night, but it seemed to mostly be because of the crap on the tires hitting the brake (the wet streets kicked up a lot of grit). 

What's worse than a little fall is how blasted cold it was to be wet through last night. I came back, took a hot shower to clean up and get warm and then, despite being warm, felt cold for the rest of the night. Blargh. At least moonlightalice kindly warned me not to bike this morning as it is like to rain again. Not that I was going to. My arm is too sore for that (I caught myself with it), but it's good to know that there's a real reason not to as opposed to a wussy reason.

I don't have a Halloween icon?

I mentioned that I picked up a copy of The Monster Book of Zombies the other day. I'm enjoying it immensely, probably because the first few stories are as far removed from the post-apocalyptic, action-oriented, blood-and-guts zombie stories that I'm used to from movies and the odd modern zombie novels I've read. A lot of these so far have been authentic (Edgar Allen Poe) or endearingly retro-Victorian gothic. It's all very slow, very looming in a way that has not much to do with suspense so much as atmosphere. I kind of love it.

And today is a simply perfect day to be reading such things. Dark and soon-to-be-stormy day-verging-on-early-night. Cool and windy, a combination of which makes one want to wrap oneself in a blanket with a hot beverage in front of a picturesque window and read scary stories until one is jumping at sounds left and right. Of course, if I tried such a thing at my apartment, the view would be of a school (not quite scary for the right reasons, that), and any cozying up would feature a kitty claiming my lap and then insisting upon attention (which is fine, but the cuteness ruins the gothic mood). So I'll enjoy it on my lunch break and tonight on the subway, and sigh and wish I were removed upstate, where I could really wonder about being axe-murdered in my sleep and ponder whether or not they'd even find my body for days...

It's a funny thing to wish for, to be scared in quite so (un)realistic a way, I realize. I just, well, like being scared. Not in the terrorists-are-going-to-kill-us, global-warming-is-going-to-drown-us-in-CO2-and-ice-cap-water way. Those things are legitimately terrifying. I mean in the silly-fun way of rollercoasters, mesmerism (Poe, again), and horror movies. It's just that I'm so not scared by lots of things in everyday life that people get superstitious about (God, graveyards, that sort of thing) that it's fun and refreshing to be chilled by something. Just so long as it's comfortably removed from potential possibility, why not enjoy the thrill?