If you take a gander at this page, gentle reader, you will behold something damn close to consensus. Certainly their barometer is questionable from time to time, and it seems that even middling reviews are often stamped with a crimson “fresh tomato” icon.
For a moment, though, forget this disclaimer and look at the percentage: 97%. There must be some credence to such an astronomical number, right? Many mothers, I am told, warn their brood that the majority isn’t always correct, and they paint horrific pictures of people hurling themselves off bridges to illustrate this point. Thing is, we’re not talking about mass suicides via bridges or any other steel infrastructure, we’re talking about a product, kinda like cherry pie or invisible Pepsi. It just so happens that 97% of the professional testers allegedly enjoyed the cherry pie, some more than others.
Now, I’ve never been one to succumb to traditional branding, Boar’s Head meat notwithstanding, but I’ll watch almost anything released by Pixar. That’s my bias laid bare for you to see. Pixar could film a mound of dog shit on Super-8 and I’d plop myself down front-row center, Sour Patch Kids in hand, eyes and nostrils stretched wide, such is my trust.
From the looks of their Cars trailer, there will likely be limits to my innocent trust. As far as the present is concerned, however, The Incredibles was well worth the money spent. Was it a perfect movie? Of course not, but the dialogue was tight, the visuals were outstanding, and the overall product felt like a labor of love.
This movie was a refreshing bit of ear and eye candy. Heck, during several moments I wanted to lick the screen with my eyeballs, which I refrained from doing out of respect for my fellow moviegoers.
You know, gentle reader, if we were conversing a month or two ago, the sun would be shining. A slight breeze would play through the trees as children frolic through the streets, screaming and laughing at the expense of an uncapped fire hydrant. Police officers would hum giddily, having subdued an armed felon, and the felon would harmonize through the backseat grille.
Before handing you a box, the local mailwoman would dance like a leprechaun at your doorstep. Unbeknownst to her, an actual leprechaun sits inside the box, ready to do an Irish jig with only a moment’s notice. Listen very carefully and you’d hear the strains of a smooth jazz piece.
Right now? It’s pitch black. Freezing. Assuming I can stumble to the garage without slamming into any walls or pedestrians, I will have the opportunity to witness my car not start. It will eventually start, make no mistake, but only after I scold it for its incompetence. My car, however, won’t take the scolding well, so it will retaliate by freezing my windshield–on the inside. I’m thinking along the lines of The Day After Tomorrow, and with any luck Dennis Quaid will leap onto my sunroof from the darkness.
And you know what? It wouldn’t really matter because there’s no sun to enjoy. Mr. Quaid could cover my sunroof for the entire ride and I’d keep on driving. A few days ago, we embraced daylight saving time because our planet’s tilted incorrectly. Sure, the other half of earth gets summer, but who really cares? It’s mostly water anyway.
I’ve always hated complainers, however, so I’ve donned my Proactive Hat. I grabbed a piece of paper from my printer, drew a picture of the sun, and stuck the drawing on my window. Now I don’t have enough sunblock.
Hats off to you, gentle reader, for surviving another 40+ hours of work. For the more academic types, I fully expect that a hearty 120 hours went into the advancement of knowledge. Of course, if you’re approaching schoolwork as I did, then an earnest 90 minutes of powercramming will do in a pinch.
I’m going to the corner bar for drinks soon, so we won’t have time for a good discussion today. Maybe tomorrow, no? We’re celebrating because a new hire made it through his first week, which naturally warrants an office-wide consumption of beverages. I’m working on streamlining my bar experience. Instead of waiting for my clothes to absorb all the cigarette smoke, I think I will just walk around and offer to put out cigarettes on my shirt.