May 6th, 2003

caillebotte_man at his window

Spring Night

I got reacquainted with the moon last night. There it was, gliding through the clear sky; the cupped crescent of spring, spilling its light over aspiring pine branches from which it dripped down to pool in patches on plush lawns. After the weeks of drumming rain and dripping dew, the silent fall of light was as restful to the ear as to the eye. A motile filigree of leaf shadow played across me as I strolled the street. Now the damp is lessened by a day of sun, the air is scented more with growing leaves and blossoms than with wet wood and earth. A freshness accompanies the returning moon, and the perceptible warming is like anticipation. Whatever May brings, each day will be sung to light by welcoming birds, emerging from the soft bower of spring nights.
caillebotte_man at his window

Rantlet

It returned to being wet here today. It wasn't as wet here, though, as it has been on LJ, where entry after entry is virtually dripping over Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. Hey, I could give my hair that James-Dean-took-a-toaster-into-the-bathtub look, too! What is the deal with all the Aussie guys, anyway? There is this notion about that they are all so male. Well, yeah -- if you think The Fonz is male. Most of the popular younger American actors are awfully boyish, I know, but the Aussies aren't much different. They merely have a rough trade quality about them, while the Americans are more the preppy call-boy type. But they're all boys, except for Russell Crowe, and he looks like a high school gym coach. Bogart must be turning over in his grave.

I have no idea what brought on that rantlet, by the way. I'm not particularly hostile to actors. I'm merely unimpressed by them. I suppose it's just the fact that they all seem to have come from the same mold. Even the creepy guys would be indistinguishable if you took away their creepiness. When only oddities and mannerisms separate one movie star from another, it's time to end the movies and start a new medium. Either that, or forbid the production of any movie that doesn't have at least one former member of Monty Python in it, just so that, when the movies finally get to television, the adults in the audience will have something to watch. Impractical, I'm sure.

Oh, I have nothing to say. Time to shut up.