No, not meditation, nor incense, which causes the Editor some unfortunate sneezing homicidal allergies. Nor yoga, perish the thought. But I did say new, didn't I?
To make a long story short, or rather, a short story shorter, I have recently acquired a new movie rental account, at a little DVD place right around the corner from my cozy, zombie-fortified abode, which offers an excellent rate for unlimited rentals with no late fees. Well, this seems like a good opportunity to catch up on all of those fine Cannes-acclaimed films which one does not always have the chance to view immediately, right? Wrong. Several people have described my plan, variously, as "insane", "OCD", "just plain weird", and "a big waste of time", and puzzlingly, "rock on, freak!". The Editor is not one to take naysayers seriously, so I have forged ahead. Tally ho!
But what is this bold, this daring plan, you may ask? What revelation am I about to unfold, the very tingling anticipation of which holds you glued to the edge of your undoubtedly Swedish modern computer chair? It is this: I shall, beginning RIGHT NOW, watch every new release in the store, in strict and exacting alphabetical order.
This sounds like an anticlimax. But think, just for a moment. Jumpstart the old battery and process the depth of pain and anguish, and possibly, just possibly, spiritual revelation which this may entail. For example: having glanced over the shelf once or twice, I know that my future holds such screen gems as Species 3 and, chillingly, The Princess Diaries 2. I can only hope that the latter is moved to the Adolescent Crap Section, where it undoubtedly belongs, before I reach the letter P. But that would be cheating. Out of common sense, I have omitted the following from my must-watch list, however: tv shows now packaged for rental; re-releases which have been somehow remastered or special-editioned in a desperate bid for revenue; films which were released on video pre-DVD, and have now been released on disc, see above.
Everything else . . . and I do mean everything else . . . will be watched, you know it, in alphabetical order. Tonight's (and possibly tomorrow's - I may not last that long, or I may kill myself first) picks are 2 Days (tagline: "Film is a dying art" - oh god no), and 30 Years to Life, which also has a lame tagline . . . it's all very punny, in a bad sort of way. The first one is about a lame wannabe actor who hates himself and wants to die. The second is some sort of African-American we're-turning-30 comedy. So I'm just going to go and lock up all of the knives and sleeping pills, and see what happens.
But who knows? I may reach a state beyond pain, beyond anger, beyond disgust, and open a door into a new and wondrous world of complete desensitization to any emotion whatsoever. I love the 21st century.
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