Two seriously great power-chick movies coming out this year. Both of them from the DC Universe, which needs all the love it can get right now.
I always associate this time of year with female energy. Easter is named after an ancient pagan fertility goddess, after all.
I also love the Fall, mostly October, but Spring is my thing.
Springtime, the only pretty ring time. That’s Shakepeare. And also Willy Wonka.
I recently watched Justice League and thought to myself: I have been so wrong.
First thing, anything with Henry Cavill. He literally makes me forget how to breathe.
And I think my issues with the current DC line-up of heroes center mostly on Ben Affleck as Batman (and not just because he was an idiot to divorce his wife and become a full-time binge drinker, because, oh that sounds like just the best life ever). But it shows: he just doesn’t seem to want to be there. And he can’t pull off the forced breathy almost-William-Shatner talk like Christian Bale was able to, so he just sounds… constipated.
We love you Ben but get your life together before you take on another icon. ❤ ❤ ❤
Not a fan of Jeremy Irons as Alfred either. He’s great in other movies, but miscast here.
Everyone else, to the last uber-person is excellent. And… besides… now we have…
Also, I don’t know about you, but as a female survivor of domestic abuse, Joker leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. He is canonically an assailant against women. I don’t care what his damage is. He is a bad boyfriend and needs to be dumped.
Thank Goddess there are, also, films like these two:
I was born in March, like Wonder Woman and Jack Kerouac, and I have to say that February and March movies are as weird as I am.
And I’m pretty weird. Ask anyone in my (very large) family who is the weirdest person they know, and they will all point to me. Without a moment’s thought.
Then again, they are all deep deep in the pudding. True believers in the Facetious Universe of the Jingoistic Vanilla Sunshine of the Eternally Varnished Soul.
Yep. Channeling my inner beat poet there.
I take it as a compliment, personally. Being called weird.
The Oscars are in March too, of course, which means that all the artsy films that execs thought might be a winner were released just under the wire in December and then to a larger audience in January. But by March, most of those primadonnas are gone and the remaining lot are some of the most compelling stories I have ever seen on screen.
I only ask one thing for my birthday: let me experience something new and intriguing.
Sometimes it means going to Silver City, New Mexico or Bisbee, Arizona to look at art.
And then some exceptional local craft beer. Preferably a milk stout.
Other times, it is to go see a movie. Something small but big. Like this movie.
I know the movie is controversial. Which is the fucking point. Give me something that I can argue about with another reasonable participant who doesn’t stoop to fallacies.
All of which culminates in the fact that I have only two more poems to fully flesh out and primp, then I’m ready to release my 5th ebook of poetry, plus a paperbook of 100 poems.
In the meantime, here’s another haiku. Enjoy and have a Blessed Imbolc.
it’s been too long since
I’ve wrapped my fingers around
a warm piece of kick.