Enoch and I watched Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan last night. He'd never seen it before. We'd spent the day moving he, Don, and Kate from one apartment on the third floor of one building to another apartment three buildings down and also on the third floor. Talk about a villainous pain in the ass. The thing about moving boxes up and down stairs in such a manner during July Montreal heat is that it starts to feel remarkably like you're stuck in some evil alternate world in which this motion is all there is and you're stuck doing it, your thigh muscles be damned.
The activity got me thinking, though: if forced to choose to spend the rest of my life as a tortured villain with the downsides of being stuck saying horribly obvious lines like, "I will avenge you!" and "These people have sworn their allegiance to me since 200 years before you were born!" and "Don't insult my intelligence!" (villains are always worried about their intelligence being insulted. Perhaps this is their downfall?), and the upsides of completely righteous hair, and a chest that deserves to be hugged by a velour ribbed-neck sweater of the future, then I'd have to turn into Khan. I mean, duh. What a kick ass attitude to take into the 300th year of your life, eh?
(Also, have you noticed that Tina Turner's MadMax character is absolutely the girl version of Khan? They seem to be each other in alternate-to-each-other alternate-from-this-one universes.)
No comments:
Post a Comment