Good Riddance

So long, 2010, take care and don't come back. We had some good times but for the most part you were a pretty crappy year and that's ok, some years have to be bad so that the good years really shine. You got me on the road I'm on today and for that I'm grateful, I just hope you hang back and let 2011 be the best it can be; say less Eric Roberts' nipple and more, well, just less Eric Roberts' nipple.

Goodbye 2010, welcome 2011; this year is going to be fantastic.

Ba Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Daaaaa

Deliverance is on and I'm watching it again (well, that and Celebrity Rehab. Seriously, what is going on there? Eric Roberts is wearing a saggy tank-top and I can see his nipples; that is something I can never unsee) and hot damn, that is a fine movie. A fine movie AND a gorgeous novel.

The novel, by the poet James Dickey, flows like the river at the centre of the plot; lush and vivid, it is an achingly beautiful story about survival and the disparate nature of urban life and our more primal instincts. The kind of book that compels one to write things like, "an achingly beautiful story about survival and the disparate nature of urban life and our more primal instincts".

And, the movie is almost, like super close to being just as good as the book. So good, I forget that Jon Voight is a total dick-hole. So good, it makes me think that maybe, just maybe, I could love movies. 

But, alas, I don't love movies. There are movies that I love but as a whole, I rarely opt to watch them and when I do I'm so very often disappointed. Although, I do find it really difficult to stop talking for two hours  the reason is a bit more complex.

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