I watched Cronenberg's THE FLY last night. God DAMN that's a brilliant, horrifying, tragic movie. Absolutely convincing, too. Worth a movie review post: Jeff Goldblum should have won the Oscar, Geena Davis is fabulous and suckers you into thinking that she's Goldblum's supporting actress until the story turns and you realize the movie is really about *her* character, but the most interesting character is Davis's bullying, manipulative, emotionally abusive, repugnant, and ultimately broken editor and ex-lover, played magnetically by John Getz, who gives such amazing asshole that you almost don't realize how many horrifying, hateable, and pitiable facets he gives the character.
The teleporter's working, so I can't waste time on shirking, after all, it worked just fine for the baboon. I can't think of a reason that I shouldn't -- now I'm easing off my clothes because I need to do it soon.
Now I'm naked and I'm chilly, I've got goosebumps on my willy, but I'm in the telepod, so can't stop now. I'll triumph, or I might die -- what's that buzz? Was that a fly? Nah. It's nerves. It's nothing. Anyhow --
-- hey, it worked! I 'ported! Feels like all my bits got sorted, and hey, baboon, c'mere, gimme a hug. I thought I might feel queasy. I feel great. That was so easy! That could be quite a feature -- or a bug.
