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Thursday, September 29, 2016

Donna and the Blustery Day

My car, Bix, failed inspection! Something about a lower left front ball joint. K. Was ist das? The mechanic at the garage doing the inspection pointed to the front of the car and said “this is kind of a big deal.” Oooookay. Luckily, Bix is still under warranty AND the fix is covered. My baby blue boy is now being seen to at the ultra posh Mercedes/smart car dealership in Somerville.

I love the joint. Customer service here, top to bottom, is positively 100% brill, there’s great art on all the walls, cozy chairs and couches in the waiting room PLUS fab coffee and croissants.

What's not to love? Nada. Just FYI, etc.
Three days of rain and blustering winds upped my monster TAB grief (missing The Amazing Bob more – that’s possible? Who knew?!). I couldn’t go out for a brain soothing walk in the Donna-toppling, wet gusts. Triking was also ixnayed and I wasn’t feeling up to painting or potting either. What to do, what to do? I felt like doing nothing at all.

So then, apart from taking Bix to the car doctor, I knitted and watched the movie Lucy.
…Luc Besson's "Lucy," a thriller about an American woman who gets kidnapped into service as a drug mule bearing an experimental synthetic hormone, accidentally absorbs some of it, then sheds her physical, intellectual and perceptual limitations. (source)
It's a piece of complete and utter idiocy BUT and NONETHELESS, I enjoyed it. Why? The concept. It’s stranger-in-a-strange-land, regular Jane triumphing over evil through enhanced, cosmic brain power. You know, very Matrix-y, use-the-force-Luke, Alan Watts-ish type stuff with a healthy dose of Sarah Connor.

Yep, exactly the sort of flick that, at the age of 18, I would’ve fallen completely in love with. It’s a think-and-imagine-beyond-the-limits-of-our-simple-minds/anything’s-possible sci-fi fable.

At the ripe old age of 58, though I can see the man behind the curtain I still appreciate and enjoy the hell out of this stuff. Big time. Yes, the movie Lucy has serious suspension-of-foolishness hoops to jump through but, ya know, that was cool too. Really. Noting the logic gaps was part of the fun.

Read The Atlantic’s review (it’s one big fat spoiler so, mebbe don’t read if you’re planning on seeing the movie). It’s hilariously spot on. Unlike the author though, all the “beyond-the-pale sloppy” shit didn’t ruin my good time.

Distraction action achieved!
And lastly, some Pooh and Piglet. TAB was Pooh and I was Piglet and, in my search for nothingness, I found these two bits.
“What I like doing best is Nothing."

"How do you do Nothing," asked Pooh after he had wondered for a long time.

"Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, 'What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?' and you say, 'Oh, Nothing,' and then you go and do it.

It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."

"Oh!" said Pooh.”
“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh!" he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you.”

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