I just watched The Return of the King yesterday. Yes, as expected it was a CGI-laced specktacle rivalling even the absolutely gargantuan Revolutions. Yet unlike the latter, the characters within ROTK are decently fleshed out especially that of Samwise Gangee and the Gollum. At least I got out of the cinema without feeling 'What the...' as I did when Revloutions ended. Revolutions wasn't planned to be a movie, it was made to be a myth. To expand the world of the Matrix further beyond the big screen. Thus, it lost out in terms of storytelling and drama. Despite the fact that these two caused quite an uproar within the entertainment scene, I wouldn't want to place both of them highly on my list of good movies. For the fantasy genre, I still think X-men II was great as it has brilliantly orchestrated storytelling with action. Its tale is more indepth, more vivid than that of ROTK, and it isn't engulfed by the action scenes.
posted by gohli @ 1:59 PM 0 comments

20th December I never thought I might be doing this, but then again here I am. Finally my insecure and neurotic personality got the better of me. Today I am doing something taboo, at least to those men who aren’t yet poisoned with the ways of the metrosexual. Today I am proclaiming the existence of my love to gossip, to yak away at the affairs of others and myself. Today I have decided to do away with ‘male pride’ and enter the endless possibilities of the feminine leisure of chit-chat. At 9.14 p.m., GMT+8 on this very momentous 16th of December I proclaim the birth of my first blog. For starters, I would want to post a very capitulating dilemma: What is a guy to write? Such a simple question could be so nullifying. As you can see, we males have so long believed and practiced the doctrine of true manlihood all these years, till most of us have become numbed at the finer points of the English language. True masculinity doesn’t communicate through words and sentences that touch the ‘heart’. They just go straight to the point without imagery or metaphors, thus forsaking any attempt at producing a form of poetry or ‘literature’. Many of you out there who belong to the opposite sex may argue that this is because the male brain is no different from that of a Neantherdhal’s. There isn’t enough space in there to comprehend and perform complex tasks like ‘shopping’. To all our fair ladies out there, let me assure you that there is more to a man than sex. That is of course, if you agree with me on the fact that there is more to life than shopping. We are simple and practical beings. Why worry if the colour of your toothbrush doesn’t match your personality? Why waist all that grey mass within your skull on questions like does that particular dress looks good on you when no matter what you wear you will still look fat. Why agonize yourself on cleanliness when dirt will still be around for time infinite? We think in concrete terms and not ‘with the heart’. A toothbrush is a toothbrush, regardless of its paint. It is used to get those sturborn bits from last night’s dinner out and not as an ‘expression of my deepest self’. You may ask me, if I am so dogged with the supremacy of manlihood and so the insignificance of language to go beyond the realm of the mind and into the heart, why would I even bother writing this? Well, before I totally become the putrid, demented, perverted, ego-centric, chauvinistic epitome of all independent women out there, I would like to state, despite all my ramblings above, that a women’s perception is still intriguing and beautiful despite its pretentiousness. (You gals could make something as insignificant as a relationship into a ‘commitment’) What I’m saying is that I do not disagree with the whole point experiencing and conveying life through emotions. What I do differ is that at times women exaggerate and complicate issues beyond what it is (No wonder we men will never understand you) This is shown within written and oral mediums with the overuse and misuse of metaphors. There is no need for sentences like ‘I can fly without wings’ to articulate the idea of independence. (All we men need is a Mel Gibson with kilts shouting “FREEEDOMM!”) For peace’s sake, even Britney Spear’s “I’m not a girl not yet a woman” sounds more apt. I am willing to go further than society’s expectations of masculinity to convey my life (that is, if I have one in the first place) to an audience, with rich illustrations from mind and spirit. I am willing to receive persecution from my associates whose methods of ‘persuasion’ involves unelastic underwear and sore thighs (the traditional wedgie, if you guys may not know) I am willing to risk a life of solitude in relation to the number of chauvinistic commentaries I have made and will make. So, let it be! Let’s usher in the ranting and ramblings of a lunatic on testosterones!