With one hour to kill before I go to work, still numb from the pain of working last night, I have been wasting time on the internet. Not cat videos, I’m not that forlorn, but not TikTok either, because that’s actually a good argument for not vaccinating young people.
No, when I’m this tired the lure is dithery articles written for no good purpose other than that slip-slidey thing called infotainment. The problem with infotainment is you never quite know where it’s leading you, nor how deep.
Today’s distractions are two-fold. Apparently the weather’s nice in New York right now, and while I’m glad not to be there, I kinda wish I was. Secondly, there’s a new movie out by M Night Shyamalan which I don’t want to watch, but kinda do.
To my consternation, they’re wearing bikinis / bikini-like garments in New York at the moment. They weren’t wearing bikinis when I was there! They were wearing effing puffer jackets! I like Canada Goose as much as anyone, but bikinis in Central
Perk I mean, Park? That could’ve extended my stay a couple days.
Sometimes I hate my NYT subscription. Did I really want to know this? But beyond scant titillation, what sucked me deeper was this: OMFG what happened to everyone’s boobs?? Did all the boobs move to New Mexico? Do only flat-chested women live in NYC now? Did the virus get all the boobs? Is it a conspiracy??
We need answers, people!
As if that article wasn’t enough of a horrorshow, I segued uneasily from that to the upcoming scary movie list some sadist recommended, and amid the dreck found the latest Shyamalan misshit. ‘Old’ tells the story of a bunch of annoying ‘Mericans stranded on a beach who forgot their sunscreen and suffer the consequences. Hope the ladies in NYC are being sun-smart!
You’ll have to watch it, but in true MNS style don’t expect him to nail the ending. His movies are like a belly-flop at the end of an Olympic synchronized diving routine. Like, ouch that must have hurt! But the movie does usefully remind us that horror begins when your signal ends.