in 1995 I saw a movie with my best friend and another guy after eating some mushrooms. As usual, we hadn't anticipated the effects of what we'd taken, and we certainly hadn't anticipated the effect this movie would have on the three of us. I remember leaving the theater and trying to convince Sean to drive his car off a cliff because nothing mattered anymore. I remember driving home through a rainstorm and seeing waves creep up over the hood of the car. I remember thinking we wouldn't survive the night.
Now, 12 years later I'm sitting here watching 12 Monkeys, a movie I've owned for years but haven't had the courage to watch until now. I'd be lying if I felt completely at ease, or comfortable with this movie. I can't tell you for sure if this is some weird, lingering psychic aftermath from that night. But this feels as ominous and Cassandriatic as it did when I first saw it. I've had the chance to think this over and over again, and it should be kid's stuff to me, especially considering the state of mind I've been in lately. But I still feel the same dread I'd always imagined. Time still messes up for me.
Reading now and recalling it (along with 7even, another terrifying flick) was filmed in Philly and that I know intimately the places it was filmed doesn't help a goddamned thing. ugh. It is amazing to see the Brad Pitt role again, though. I forgot how dedicated he was here.


The Go! Team was incredible. I was trying to think of a reference point earlier for a guy at the bar, and instead of using the term "cheerleader rock" (a term which I've previously applied and now see as futile) I realized that they are the Peanuts of rock. Completely sincere and excited. I danced my ass off tonight. I'm still trying to figure out a way to force them into everyone's daily lives. It may take awhile. I apologize for the lack of jungle tales, though. I am all too curious to talk to Ricky about the new Cat Power show in the meantime. Love all 4 of you.