My scars run deeper.

It's the stuff of nightmares. Edward Scissorhands has been twisted into a triumphant theatrical major stage spectacular! And if the mere thought of such a thing isn't enough to make you stab yourself in the throat with a pair of scissors, then this image from the brochure will get you there (click to zoom):


Please, make it stop! Right there, in one terrifying shot, is everything I hate about the theatre. The audience in the back row can't pick up any subtleties in a performance, so a raised eyebrow becomes an extravagant, all-of-body gesture. Look at those histrionic expressions and ridiculously contrived poses. They'd make a clown turn away in embarrassment. My eyes haven't stung this much since they were assaulted by the grotesque visages of the Young Demons. I need to go and drench the poor buggers in Dettol. Back soon.

Right. That's better. Man, if there's any film I never wanted to see turned into a musical, it's all of them. That they've done it to one of my favourites is particularly distressing. 

Tim. Burto. Mate. After the all-singing horror of Sweeny Todd I guess I'm not surprised that you've lent your name to this musical monstrosity... but still, I am disappointed.

Young & Old.

I felt young when I realised I owned the album containing the winner of this year's Triple J Hottest 100.

I felt old when I realised that getting up in the morning on weekends was a disappointment because Jon Faine wasn't on the radio.

I felt old when I realised Triple J's on-air survey question: "Which musician would you most like to pash?" was making me cringe.

I felt young when I realised it was a question I could answer: Meg White!

Hehehehe.

Not like rain on your wedding day.

Wikipedia continues to surprise. I mean, I love the phrase "Eschew obfuscation", but who the hell takes the time to write up an entry for it?

And Wikipedia continues to amuse. I laughed when I saw this T-shirt earlier today, and then laughed again when I visited the article above just now...

Happy Star Wars (tm) Day 2008.

Happy Star Wars (tm) Day everyone. May the Fourth be with you, and may your day be filled with many pleasant thoughts of classic trilogies, of expanded universes, and of future screenplays featuring minimal input from Uncle George.

I'm completely out of touch with the latest news on the upcoming TV shows, other than reading somewhere that Rick Fantastic knows they'll be fantastic, and they'll totally blow my mind because George is such a fantastic storyteller blah, blah, blah, but that's it. As with the new Indy, I'm so fearful they'll suck so hard that I'd prefer just not to know. At least then I can still pretend that Boba will be redeemed from the soulless, derivative joke he's become.

But let's not dwell on the dark, let's turn towards the light and enjoy the serendipity of discovering a new range of Star Wars key chain thingos at the local servo as I was paying for my petrol this morning. They even had a Boba...


...and most pleasing of all, no Jango. :)

UPDATE: Nicely timed: John Gruber visits Star Wars: Where Science Meets Imagination and flickrs his photos for us.