I spent some hours pounding out and refining proposals for the super-heroine contest. I now have five really good stories, and I'll spend the next week refining them further. I don't think I'll get a full ten complete, but I'd rather not dilute my submissions for the sake of numbers. Your Sister is pushing me to apply for the creative director job, but I don't have the necessary experience. They want seven years of book publishing, a very different creature from magazines and newspapers.
A daylong snow shower didn't postpone the Saturday production of Top Secret, a reading theatre play about the Washington Post fighting the Nixon Administration to publish the Pentagon Papers on Vietnam. This is the show featuring Your Sister's crush guy, but it also gave us a pack of Those Guys, supporting actors you see constantly without knowing their names. It was a good show, and it flew by within ten hours. Your Sis sneaked over to Mast general to buy me a sack of Krackle. We spent Sunday watching quality football.
I had Monday off, and I managed to see Cloverfield, the NY monster movie shot like Blair Witch. It's good. It's not much more than an experiment of style, but it succeeds in being both harrowing and cool. Maybe a bit better than The Mist. Including those two films and 28 Weeks Later, I've had good luck with horror movies lately. Once again, I shared a theatre with an idiot who brought along a child too young for this kind of film, and naturally the kid freaked. I don't blame him one bit, but that father should be strung up.
Picture of the Day
A new picture of Mercury
In the News
The Democrat campaign ads are breeding like rabbits as the local weekend primary approaches. Edwards has no chance. None. The Huckabee campaign has ended the press transportation to cover its events, and the Florida events have been scaled back. Giuliani, who is banking on his first win there, is still an underdog to Romney. Thompson may pull out of the running as early as today.