I've had the soundtrack from Disney's "Hunchback of Notre Dame" stuck in my head for about a week and a half now. I even bought a cheap copy of the movie, hoping that if I watched it I'd get it out of my system.

Evidently, I was wrong because it's still THERE...IN MY HEAD THE BELLS ARE RINGING!!

I have to say after having watched Disney's version of the Hunchback...it's really dark...for Disney. Seriously. There's an entire song about how much the villain of the story, one Claude Frollo, lusts after the lovely heroine, Esmeralda.

Here's a lyrics site, peruse, if you will, the songs. Check out Hellfire in particular...it's the one I'm talking about, after all.

Lyrics AHOY!

Okay, sure. He's not saying that he's gonna assfuck her with a spikey dildo or whatever, but for Disney...that's pretty dark dude. He's talking about how much he lusts after her and explaining his EEBIL plan to burn her to death if she doesn't put out for him.

Seriously...dudes...seriously....that's dark, man.

I sincerely wish that Disney had the cajones to go even darker, after all, Victor Hugo's original work was really, really, REALLY dark. It's like Hamlet. Everyone dies miserable and alone. What's worse, in the original there really are no heroes. Esmeralda is a simpering idiot, pretty but dumb as a bag of hammers. Phoebus is equally dumb but good looking, the only difference being instead of being a superficial bitch, he's a bastard. Frollo is even creepier in the original version and Quasimodo is a monster. He isn't cute, cuddly or even remotely likeable. He is a freakish dullard, whose social skills are stunted because he's spent his entire life IN A FRIGGING BELL TOWER. ALONE.

At the end, I was kind of sad, but at the same time..I didn't really feel bad for the characters. They all sort of got what was coming to them. Except for Phoebus, who should have been hit by cart...but wasn't.

Back to the Disney-fied version, which is really more a homage to the 1939 Charles Laughton version. For real. Disney's version and that version have so much in common it's silly. They shouldn't have put in the credits, based on the novel by Victor Hugo. They should have put based on the 1939 Adaptation by Bruno Frank of the original novel written by Victor Hugo. Truth in advertising folks...truth in advertising.

All of this aside. I am unreasonably amused by the song, "A Guy Like You".

I'm amused not only because at the beginning they're casually referring to Paris being burnt to the ground. And because I am sick, I find this very funny. I'm also amused by their kind but misguided attempts to encourage Quasimodo. Because while they mean well, the compliments are clearly disingenuous.

In talking this over with my husband this afternoon, first I had to admit we were even discussing something so dumb, second, both of us agree that maybe gargoyles have different aesthetics than humans. So maybe they are being genuine. But I'm not so sure.

I mean, really? How does being shaped like a croissant enter into anyone's aesthetic? If my husband was shaped like a croissant, I'm pretty sure that wouldn't make him more desirable. In fact, I think I'd be pretty freaked out about that. Especially considering he wasn't shaped like a croissant the day before.

I suppose they're saying he's tasty. But who looks for tasty when looking for a mate?

Cannibals maybe...

Still, that line amuses me to no end for its sheer ridiculousness.

Also, was watching "Law and Order" this evening and was amused by a random line uttered by an extra, "I was in the chess club."

It was seriously that random. Lenny and the other guy were talking to a school principal about some kid they suspected in a murder case. The principal proceeded to talk about the kids and from out of nowhere he had this little rambling speech about jocks...and then that last line. It was so weird, that it's stuck with me and probably will for a very long time.

Ten years from now, I'll probably look over at my husband and say, "I was in the chess club, " and then laugh uproariously.

One last thought. While I was watching my husband play "Kingdom Hearts 3" today, we got to the part where Sora first leaves Twilight Town and he starts crying for no reason. Out of the blue, my husband quips just as the tear hits Sora's cheek, "Usul gives water to the dead."

I laughed so hard I nearly blew milk out of my nose.

Again, this proves that sometimes you just had to be there. Same time, it was too funny not to share.

For those that don't get it, "Usul gives water to the dead" is a not so subtle reference to "Dune" by Frank Herbert.

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I took that bath I planned on taking...it was good and it cooled me off.

Now the whole cold bath thing has worn off and I'm hot and sweaty. I felt the need to inform all of you of my condition because I'm hot and I can't sleep, so screwing around on my favorite new website is what I do when that happens.

Don't worry. Sooner or later that new website smell will rub off and it'll be like all the other places I post. Pretty much rank with just plain goofiness, only posted when I feel "in the mood". (Like this one isn't already infected with my brand of pointless goofy crap, I seem to drag silliness behind me like a massive rotting albatross.)

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. I'm sweaty again. And I can't sleep...because of said sweatiness.

As a side note, my kaiju battle between Howard Ashman and Cole Porter has created amusing mental imagery for me. And as I sit here writing this, inside my head they're still raging...like ZAHMBEES!!! Only much noisier. (I think that's how it's spelled, it's late...I'm tired...and I think I already mentioned the sweat thing.)

Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you know that I'm hot and that idea of two gianormous lyricists fighting it out amuses me.

G'nite!

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OOOOOOOOOOOOH! HOLY CRAP! I GOT $.024!!! I'm moving up in the world!!

Lord help me.

It's hot. I'm sweaty...moist...warm...a little tired...sore...and I have Disney songs stuck in my head.

And this is the point at which where I beg you from my slime covered place on the wall to "Kill me"...because this seriously sucks ass.

Also, my neighbors have been setting off fireworks for the last week and a half. I'm all for celebrating the holidays and stuff, but doing it a week in advance is just going too far. I wouldn't mind really...if they did it at a decent hour. But waking me up at four in the morning....ON A TUESDAY...IN JUNE...WHEN I HAVE TO BE AT WORK EARLY IN THE MORNING IS KIND OF ANNOYING!!

Oh well. At least they're not lighitng them off their balcony like our neighbors last year.

Mreh.

...Now Cole Porter is fighting against the Disney in my head for dominance like two men in giant rubber monster suits. It's an epic battle filmed in slow-mo in a scenic miniature city...that some guy made for his railroad set and he's pretty pissed, because giant Cole Porter just stepped on his miniature church...and that-- like--took...a month to put together. And with a mighty roar, giant Howard Ashman eats one of the little plastic parishioners, beating giant Cole Porter back with one of his special attacks where he uses Alan Menken like a battering ram. Giant Cole Porter is stunned, rolling on the ground and gasping for air, while giant Howard Ashman bellows his triumph to the skies.

Giant Cole Porter takes this time to recover, and when he stands...the battle begins anew!!

Let's hope he wins.

Also, I'm unreasonably amused by LastFm. I know I shouldn't be. It's a dataminer and I should be afraid...yet there's an unexpected amount of delight when I'm listening to music and then it displays on my profile at the site.

Sad really.

I blame my sister. I'm not sure why.

Kaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Gonna go draw myself an extra cold bath. Byebye.

Comment! (0) | Recommend! | Categories: Summer [t], Blaming my sister [t], Cold baths [t]

Hmmm.

Got some interesting responses to my last post.

dave --Yeah. Not so much bitter as I am filled with bottomless pity. I sincerely lament the state of music today. Perhaps I'm wrong. I do like Of Montreal and they're a relatively new band. And I'm not adverse to listening to new music.

So, this is an open invite to anyone who read the last post. Send me your music. Good music only, please. I'd like you to prove me wrong, because I really don't want to be a cranky old person who only listens to older stuff. I miss out on a lot of stuff due to the fact that I can't watch MTV anymore and I hate the radio with the fire OF A THOUSAND MOOSE!

My email is noacat75@yahoo.com. Go to yousendit.com and send me your music!

Because file sharing is the way we find new obsessions and reasons to spend money we don't have. Wa and HOO.

Another thing, I totally screwed the pooch with the last post. I could have named it "Youth Culture Killed My Dog"...and now I feel bad that I didn't, because in my own crazy head...that'd be really funny.

I'd also like to point out that I had a whole diatribe written in my head today about the state of our government. It was going to be political and cool, and filled with angry, sarcastic GenX bitterness. But then I got all excited about the prospect of getting neat new music from people and it went away.

But I'm still angry about that. I think we all should be. Angry and really afraid.

Also, it should be noted that I made a whole $ .014...which you could almost say is like negative money. I'm going to sit back now and think about all the cool stuff I'm gonna buy with my phat $.014. Maybe someday I'll make one shiny penny!

I can't wait! Because I'm so gonna buy myself a pony ride at Meijers. ***

***Note--for those who don't live in Michigan and don't know what Meijers is or what I'm talking about. Meijers is a huuuuuuuuuuge 24 hour supermarket that has hundreds of stores strewn throughout Ohio and Michigan. In the very front of the store by the registers, they have these little mechanical ponies for the kids. You can get a ride on one for a PENNY! WHAT A DEAL!

Comment! (1) | Recommend! | Categories: music today [t], Meijer [t], Pennies [t]

This site seems like a lot more trouble than it's worth. I suppose if I were smarter with computers, this place would be a gas. It does seem to be chalk full of ways to customize things...especially if you're familiar with computer...stuff.

Unfortunately for me, I'm not. So I guess that means I suck.

Ah, C'est la vie.

I'm not even sure why I got this journal. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I already have too many journals. I don't really need one more.

Hmph.

Perhaps someday I'll have so many that they'll have to duel to the death. It'll be like the Highlander. They'll fight until there's only one...or maybe two.

I do have to say I enjoy the monkey theme at this site and the fonts are really nice and easily readable too. This is a concern for an "old" person, which is what I'm considered...what with our cultural obsession with youth.

Frankly, I don't get it. I never have. Young people...serioulsy. Y'all are boring as hell. With your cute flat stomachs and your made up problems and your lives that aren't quite complicated yet and the being able to do stuff at a whim, without even thinking about the consequences and the hip hop and the hula hoops and your rock music.

I realized all of this recently when I started watching MTV. I stared at the screen and the proverbial ephiphany hit me right between the eyes. I hate MTV. I can't watch it anymore. Even just to pass the time. I just watch and shake my head and turn back to Court TV or the Discovery Channel.

How did I not know how annoying MTV was? Why--in the WORLD--did I ever find it even remotely interesting? It's really just a bunch of crap, loosely held together by the concept of music without any real music at all. Also, the music today sucks! SUCKS!

GOD!

Maybe it's not so much that I'm older, but that I've finally figured out that MTV sucks. Like I missed the memo the first time around. That's it.

Also, I hate to break it to you kids out there. But your music sucks. No, don't argue with me. It does.

Really. It sucks. It's boring, unoriginal crap with the same beat that just has different guys yelling over it. With the occasional breathy whisper from some skinny twat who's supposed to be sexy, but really just looks like she could use a bath and a good meal.

I'm serious. It sucks. Just think about it. Wait.

Go. Listen to some Marvin Gaye. A little Beatles, mixed with the Rolling Stones. Pull out your Dad's old Zepplin records. Dust off that audio cassette of Purple Rain that your mom keeps in the closet, thinking no one knows about it. Listen to them ...and then listen to the bullshit you listen to. There's no question. Your music sucks. There are three...maaaaaaaybe four bands that are worth anything.

No...no. I'm right. I've been there. Remember the '90's? Of course you don't, but pretend you do. The '90's was a time when any long haired, unwashed idiot could mumble into a microphone and make a million dollars. How many of those bands are still here today and making records? How many of them are remembered? And how many of them WILL be remembered in 20 years?

Nirvana. Pearl Jam. Maybe Wheezer. Beck. Perhaps a few others I'm not thinking of right now, but I might later.

I don't see a lot of music right now that will last very long. It's hard to be memorable when most MTV bands are pretty much disposable. It's all about pretty hair and abs. Sad really. I remember a time when a really ugly guy could front a band...and that was okay.

*sigh*

Okay, okay. I'm not saying I'm a paragon of taste. I listen to the Spice Girls. WHAT??!! Everyone has to have that shame based record that they listen to in the dark and enjoy secretly, knowing their loved ones will ridicule them if they ever knew. I'm just open about my love of cheesily craptacular stuff. There's nothing wrong with loving kitsch. But when it's ALL you love, I'm sorry...I have to question your taste and your sanity. Because while I do love the Spice Girls, I also listen to Maria Callas and David Byrne. (It's weird putting them in the same sentence. I feel so self-important!!)

Seriously, come back to me in ten years and try to argue the point then. I guarantee you'll agree with me once that day comes.

Until then, I'm going to sit on my lawn with my shotgun, waiting for you to walk by so I can scream incoherent obscenties at you.

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