But what it all comes down to is who's holding the umbrella!

Just last night after consuming a turkey on rye sandwich and guzzling down a can of Country Time lemonade – both of which I purchased at the corner market and promptly wrote off as a business expense – I sat myself down on my bourgeois sofa and finished reading the book Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. Truly the last 300 pages or so of this novel flew by with the speed and grace of majestic gazelles racing through the brush and leaping over trees which were felled before their time by Big Lumber; we are raping Mother Earth.  This book received an amount of hype perhaps only comparable to the pre-release hype surrounding the 1999 theatrical release of Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace.  The key difference being that Gone Girl received post release hype, meaning highly positive word of mouth.  Because of this, I was understandably reluctant to devote my reading time to its rich, creamy pages.  Yet I finally acquiesced after losing literally everything but the shirt on my back one night over a game of cards with the boys in the smoky back room of Lou’s Italian Kitchen and Bistro on 27^th Street.  The entire story left me in a perpetually perturbing predicament of perspiring palpitations and the ending was one of the biggest and most pleasurable gut punches in recent memory.  Upon completion I hugged the book to my chest like a long lost friend.  Here was bold and thrilling literary greatness.  I felt admiration, jealousy and joy at beholding this creation.  I am exceedingly excited to see what David Fincher does with the film adaptation which is set to be released in October.  And though I rarely find Ben Affleck perfect for any role I do believe he is an excellent choice as the protagonist in this particular story (though I am too sheepish at the moment to say why). 

In what I hope will be true until we are all rotting corpses a David Fincher movie also means a new soundtrack by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross and my waxy ear-holes are eagerly awaiting their new sexy swingin’ love sounds.  Savvy readers may recall the 3 disc soundtrack to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo being one of my favorite musical releases of the last few years. I’ve been quoted in the Associated Press several times that it may be my favorite release ever by the Reznor, not simply of his soundtrack work but including his releases under the Nine Inch Nails moniker.  I still stand by this statement.  Sometimes I stand by it while naked and looking up at the moon in my backyard.   For years now I’ve had an irrational fear of the moon.  How I long for a beautiful woman (plump, curvaceous or extra thick) to comfort me, pull me in close and tell me “toda esta bien, mijo.  Estoy aqui.” when my irrational moon fears get the better of me. 

Last night I also purchased the movie Tai Chi Zero after a drunken binge at Diego’s Mexican Cantina.  Yadhira was working and every time she walked away after delivering a colorful drink I was mesmerized by the oceanic sway of her voluptuous hips which had been crammed into a pair of gloriously tight black pants.  I burst into tears at some point while I was there but I don’t think she saw this.  I kept hoping she would tell me how disgusting and ugly I am but this never happened.  I have not had the opportunity to view my new purchase yet because when I arrived home I was too consumed with self-loathing and all I wanted to do was continue drinking to the point of passing out so I could escape the soul crushing futility of my existence.  These days I frequently awaken in a state of sheer panic.  Or sometimes I wake up and I feel bliss – pure unadulterated peace and happiness – and for a few moments I genuinely believe what I thought of as my life was in fact nothing more than a fading nightmare.  Then reality sets in and with it comes despair and I realize the nightmare is all around me and inside of me.  And in those moments I know nothing will never be all right again. 

After having watched Batman Returns 7 times in a row the other night I can safely reaffirm that it is still my favorite Batman movie and one of my favorite films of all time.  I cry multiple times at every viewing, most notably during the costume party scene.  Michael Keaton and Michelle Pfeiffer share such a heartbreaking moment of tragic honesty; it grappling with duality, the desire to surrender to love’s embrace and the realization that your own tortured obsessions can only lead you to ruin.  It is pure cinema in its most glorious state.  It’s better than real life.  

New Wu Tang Clan song premiered just the other.  This filled my heart with warmth and I am eagerly anticipating their long awaited new album.  Still, I am saddened that Raekwon has elected not to be a part of this album as on any given day he can be my favorite member of the Clan.  Still, the joys of hearing the rebel INS, Method Man and GZA over a reliably haunting Wu Tang rhythm cannot be understated.

I was so close to some type of vision as I lay in bed.  We spoke or rather, I spoke.  But I knew you listened.  You were always there and I could almost see you.  What is clouding my thoughts?  Where are these images coming from?  I imagine myself nestled inside your warmth.  I am deep inside of you and I experience a rebirth.  When you speak I do not understand any of the words.  I can see cascading waves of black and I see bright red and mountains and valleys unlike anything on earth.  Is there a discernible face?  Perhaps a combination of all I’ve seen before, of all those most wondrous and yet somehow you are far greater than all of them put together.  Your eyes are dark radiance, shining like black diamonds, filled with enough stars for a thousand universes.  I beg to be broken; desecration on a metaphysical level heretofore not experienced by anyone.  And then embraced.  You forgive me of everything and at your touch my back arches and breaks and there are cries of ecstasy. Of course, I think, how utterly proper.   

For years now I’ve had an irrational fear of the woman.  How I long for a beautiful moon (crescent, full or new) to comfort me, pull me in close to its craters and tell me “Everything is okay child.  I’m here” when my irrational woman fears get the better of me.