November 20, 2015
For my birthday, Dr. Stevens got me the blu-ray disk of THE HIGHLANDER, which was one of our favorite movies back when you got everything on VHS from your local Blockbuster video store.
(I’ll give you whippersnappers a minute to Google up all the weird terms and concepts in that sentence. You back? Good.)
The lead actor, Christopher Lambert, makes some unusually…intense expressions. I had forgotten how disconcerting his eyes were. Naturally, as I was watching, I IMDB-ed the movie and actor.
(I’ll give you “vintage citizens” a moment to Google up “to IMDB.” You back? Good.)
One reviewer commented that Lambert’s “piercing gaze” was a result of his extreme near-sightedness.
You say, “piercing gaze.” I say, “myopic squint.”
THAT’S what writers do. We shape and reshape reality by rearranging squiggles on a page. We wiggle our fingers about over keys or paper, and reality changes. I need to remind myself of this when I think that writing is just another synonym for “slogging through cold mud uphill while sheets of rain beat you in the face.”
Off to hunt down GREYSTOKE, which I’m pretty sure I watched on late-night cable television at my aunt’s house while everyone else was asleep. Because there was no way my mother would have allowed me to watch it, otherwise.