The Runcible Blog

Tomorrow morning I'll head out on my first solo road trip in five years. I'm heading to Minneapolis, eager to document the clash of ideologies outside the rich white dude convention. I learned a bit about underhanded police tactics four years ago and hope to avoid whatever tricks the St.Paul PD have ready to unleash.

Good night, and huzzah.

(I had started to write a rather scathing review of Into the Wild a week or so ago, but my computer's battery died at some point before I hit save [why didn't I hit save earlier? I should know better]. Now, the forgettable review joins the forgettable movie somewhere in the rear of my brain. I do remember that the tone of the film felt way off from what it should've. It played like a montage of a kid's journey through the country, and I ultimately didn't care about the main character's fate because the one-dimensional acting lead me to believe that he had little to offer, emotionally — certainly less depth than I imagine the real-life Chris McCandless might've contained. I must be in the minority of people who didn't care for the film; I'm too snobbish in my appreciation for great cinematography. Into the Wild fell far short of the "beautiful film" mark, and it didn't help to have Eddie Vedder warbling on top of the film with faux-authenticity.
Oh, and I just remembered the scene where the main character breaks the fourth wall and touches the camera lens. WTF? Delete that scene, Sean Penn! Delete it!)

Although I haven't had much to say lately, rest assured I've been a bundle of feelings. It just so happens that sometimes those feelings are neatly expressed by other people's lyrics. Ryan Adams nails the experience of longing that I've had tugging on my insides recently. I've certainly got a winding wheel in mind.

This is the best I can do at the moment:

Well nighttime let her through
Yeah I'm talking to you
I wanna see her
Precious little thing
With eyes that dance around
Without their clothes

So buy a pretty dress
Wear it out tonight
For anyone you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Cause I feel just like a map
Without a single place to go of interest
And I'm further North than South
If I could shut my mouth
She'd probably like this

So buy a pretty dress
And wear it out tonight
For all the boys you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Be my winding wheel

Well the children laugh and sing
A song that ushers in her driving rain
And I'm standing in the station
like some old record waiting on a train

So buy a pretty dress
Wear it out tonight
For anyone you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Be my winding wheel