Yeah, I’m still alive. January was ridiculously busy for me, and now that I’ve got a little downtime, I’m feeling remarkably decrepit. Standing up is a major production. Stairs are an invention of the devil. That’s one reason I’ve not been around here so much. I’ve been sinking a fair amount of time into just watching some movies and performing my primary function, being a pillow for my Monkey Dog.
Another stumbling block: there I was, writing right along on what was supposed to be the second post of January, when I was stopped dead; I was trying to get back into my groove of watching Important World Cinema That I Had Been Ignoring, and was struck by the singular terror of writing something about a fairly well-respected film.
This has happened to me before, of course. The last time it was this bad was back in the days when I was writing The Bad Movie Report, and decided to do a series on the classic Universal horror movies that were being reissued on VHS at the time. I started working on Frankenstein, my personal favorite, and was again stopped dead. What more could possibly be said about a sixty year-old flick? What new? Why was I even trying? This crisis shut down the site for quite some time.
I eventually climbed back on the horse, and will do so again. I do keep watching movies, leading to yet another thread of percolating anxiety in my life. When am I going to be able to write about them all? Why am I even doing this?
I also think cold, dreary February is fertile ground for existential nannydiddering like this.
I’ve been called in to work this evening, covering for a sick co-worker. I could mumble there goes more writing time, but I’d be lying. I’d probably watch another movie. And then not write about it. And seethe about not writing about it. And next week’s gonna be another busy one.
See you in a bit. Sooner rather than later, I hope.
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drfreex.com 
Funny, I once git hung up on a 2001: A Space Odyssey review because of the same thing. I just now realize I should have written about the film from a food angle, as it’s pretty funny when you realize the film uses eating quite well as it makes a few other points about everything else.
I did love that they ate sandwiches on the Moon Bus. White bread, of course.
Yep, we go from raw boar to liquid veggies to fake meat sandwiches to that pasty Discovery stuff to what looks like some sort of outer space hotel’s top shelf cuisine by the ending. I guess that Starchild got some big bottle of Gerber’s, but Kubrick was probably out of money for effects by that point.
HAW!