MOONLIGHT

I laughed for fifteen years when I woke up yesterday to find this video in my Tumblr feed. Look at all of their reactions. It's beautiful. Moonlight is the rightful winner, there was never any question about it. Mahershala Ali got his Oscar and so did Viola Davis. 


   And by the by, the Academy can go suck a big bag of dicks for giving both abusive creep Casey Affleck and racist human waste Mel Gibson awards all the while spouting anti-Trump rhetoric. Like, really? And how the hell could the Oscar for Best Make-Up go to the mess that was Suicide Squad? Eugh.

BOKREA

Again it's that lovely time of year: the Great Book Sale.

Or simply "Bokrea" as we say in Sweden.

   I constantly tell myself I have to restrict my book purchases to the Great Book Sale and maybe a comic book now and then, but then I go on to fail miserably because I find a book that I simply "must have" or step foot in a second-hand shop that stock some poor old forsaken books in some dusty corner (I'm saving them, I swear).

   This year is no exception; I had set aside some money for the Sale and was thrilled to see that what was left after I had filled my bags was enough to buy food to last for the remainder of the month before pay day. A nice surprise as I was prepared to live on tea. I love it when I surprise myself.

The catch of the 2017 Great Book Sale.

   I rarely read anything not scifi or fantasy so my obvious store of choice was Science Fiction Bokhandeln (it's like the Swedish equivalent of Forbidden Planet) not only because of the books but also because of all the other nerds I get to share a limited space with.

   It would seem I now need new bookcases.

I (kinda) stand corrected

Remember a few weeks ago when I was complaining about award shows not being diverse enough when it comes to their nominees? I think I ought to correct my statement. At least a little. Nominations are still mostly male and white but the winners I've heard most about so far...
   Hidden Figures and Moonlight have been taking audiences by storm and have rightfully started walking off with prize after prize after prize. I have yet to see Hidden Figures but anything with Octavia Spencer, Janelle Monáe and Taraji P. Henson just got to be good. Mahershala Ali and Janelle Monáe appears in both movies mentioned above and Janelle won the Breakout Performance award from AAFCA  for her performances while Mahershala won a SAG Award not long ago for Moonlight. Hidden Figures won a SAG Award for Outstanding Performance by a Cast in a Motion Picture.
   This is a good thing. I like this.

Happy Single's Awareness Day!

Because fuck you Valentine. For so many reasons. Foremost reason being that you suck.

Hanna from Rat Queens by Johnny Rocwell

Getting shit done

   In the last week I've been strangely productive and got a lot of shit done. I've ironed clothes, mended some other clothes, made modification to some additional clothes so they would suit me better (you know, so I'd actually wear them). I've cleaned up the clutter and trash that has silently accumulated around me while I've been less than enthusiastic about life in general or cleaning in particular. I've hoovered. I've cooked. This just goes to show that there's nothing like housework to put some bothersome thoughts out of one's mind. Procrastination has always been a favourite occupation of mine and I've found housework to be super effective for putting off tough phone calls, messy feelings and gym visits. As a result I haven't made any of the rather important calls I set out to make, I haven't quite processed becoming single again and I haven't been to the gym in three weeks.

   But hey, at least there's no Vogon poetry. So I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

Category: 'dafuq just happened?'

The strangest thing happened during work today and I can't get it unstuck from the grey goop that is my mind.
   I work in a shop and inevitably end up having checkout duty. So far, so good. I've had some very interesting discussions right there at the checkout desk but I have to say... I didn't wake up this morning expecting to FUCKING SMELL A CUSTOMER today. I swear, sometimes my job... hands me the weirdest situations to deal with.
   A dude is going through checkout, he's just payed for his stuff when he suddenly goes "this is an odd question but do I smell good?" No shit Sherlock, it's odd but I can't be arsed to feel embarrassed in these situations so without hesitation I leaned in to smell him. He smelled good. I asked him if he had a new perfume on. "Yes!" he beams (and it's a very nice smile) "It's pine!" I'm enjoying the moment we're sharing and the golden opportunity to take the piss out of him that has presented itself when I realise that the other 10 or so customers (try 20, it was a Friday afternoon) standing within earshot of us are all giggling (and are also waiting to pay for their shit and leave), but again: I really can't be arsed to feel embarrassed. Besides, I'm having too much fun. I wish him a very nice weekend and he leaves, still smiling.
   I fucking live off of these moments. People are generally just a bunch of bastards but there are still individuals that spin shit into gold. They make up for all the other crap I have to go through.
   GOLD I'm telling you.

It's already February people

I don't know who it was that stole January but gone it is and February is upon us. I'm looking forward to experience how the days grow longer the further into the year we get because as of right now I'm sick and tired of short days and an eternity of darkness.

SELFIE TIME.
Sometimes I'm all cool and suave...

But most of the time (7 out of 10 pictures) I'm just... not all there... :

C'mon. You all have those pictures. Not all selfies are good selfies but they're also good selfies. Because they're still you.
And you're awesome.

Razzies: the Worst Movies of 2016

Hopefully Suicide Squad, Batman vs. Superman and Gods of Egypt are going to get ALL OF THE AWARDS at this years Razzies Awards. They deserve all the "WORST. MOVIE. EVER." awards that were ever thought into existence.
   And I really really really hope Jared Leto wins Worst Supporting Actor for being a total douche to his fellow cast members.
   (Winners to be announced February 25th.)

Award show season

Award show season has started and already I've lost hope for the nominations and recipients to be even in the least diverse (this even though the Oscars have actually hit a record high of nominations of people of colour, *sarcastic yaaaaay*). So I'm just going to wish with all my might that Deadpool will win a shit-ton of awards. For the lulz.

The Hutt Recommends: Rogue One

This is good, oh so good.

   A few days ago I decided it was time to take the bull by its horns and watch Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Despite it being hyped to oblivion and me already knowing the whole movie through what people on the internet have told me I planned to sit through it. Mostly, I wanted to see it just so that I could go watch Rogue One with all the other movies in the series seen and dealt with.

   To be frank with you; I was entirely underwhelmed and a little disappointed. None of the new characters engaged me and none of the old ones held the same power they once did (except possibly Chewbacca). It's a mystery to me how Kylo Ren was expected to be (and then actually became!) such a popular character since all I see is a belligerent 5-year-old brat who's acting out because he's just been told off by his parents. The golden glow of the movie came from Finn and if they had expanded on his story just a liiiiiittle bit more I'd have fallen for it. But they didn't. It was nice to revisit the Star Wars universe again but nostalgia can only take you so far. This is simply A New Hope in brand new (but slightly crooked) wrapping paper and if I can choose which movie I'd rather spend two hours watching I'd go for A New Hope.

   So, slightly discouraged, I headed for the cinema to sit down, crisps and soda in hand, to experience what I thought would be two more hours of mediocre nostalgia-riding scifi. Luckily, I was wrong.
   Something I noticed pretty early on was that I might be a bit bigger a nerd for the Star Wars universe than I initially thought myself to be, because as soon as I saw an AT-ST stalking the streets of Jedha City on screen I squealed like the excited child I had been reduced to. I love Star Wars tech and lore. Mostly lore. I'm a known lore hunter. And there is plenty to be found in Rogue One, because this is a prequel to sequel the previous prequels and lead us towards A New Hope. Still with  me? Good.

   I loved everything about this movie; all the characters, the plot, the locations, the dialogue, the actors, the costumes, the fighting... everything. As uncharming as it must sound, I'm usually not a fan of the whole group of main characters (or their actors) but in this case I was. They are all precious little gems to be protected. Obviously, I spent a whole lot of this cinema experience crying. Rogue One is darker than its Star Wars siblings and all the better for it.

   I guess I can expect it to be a bit of an unpopular opinion but I was relieved to find that Rogue One doesn't focus any particular energy on anyone from the Skywalker family even though some of them (Vader and Leia) make short appearances. In fact, there are a few more recognisable faces popping up here and there: Grand Moff Tarkin, Bail Organa and Admiral Raddus to mention three I remember from the original trilogy, but they are still the side characters they always were. I am rather fed up with watching Skywalkers mess up the galaxy, it was about time to let other characters' stories shine and be heard. 
   I loved this movie much more than I thought I would.

Fuck you 2016

2016 has been a year of death, misery and unexpected turns of events.

   Alan Rickman, Muhammad Ali, Prince, Anton Yelchin, Ron Glass, Carrie Fisher... the list of excellent people leaving this life seems to go on forever.
   Homophobia and racism won further ground internationally; the Brussels bombings, the Lahore suicide bombing, Brexit, the Pulse shooting, Donald Trump being elected president, the Aleppo massacre, the Berlin attacks just to mention a few out of too many.

   My struggles with anxiety reached a new high with panic attacks and many a sleepless, heavy and tear-filled night. I haven't been able to focus on much for more than a few minutes at a time. The only things I've just about managed is work (in fact, I received a well-earned salary increase thanks to that), binge-watch just about every single tv show on Netflix and a few hundred hours of Clicker Heroes divided into a maximum of five minutes at a time. Like Bilbo, I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. No matter how much I do in a day, it's never enough and my insides hurt.

IT'S TEA TIME BITCH

One of the good things coming out of this year is my boyfriend.
And some of the books I've read.
That I quit nicotine at long last.
The Stitch onesie I bought.
My few but very good friends for sure.
The blog passing 60 000 pageviews.
That I bought some delicious teas (from Tefrossa).
I got to travel to Warsaw with two of my great friends.
The tattoo I got.
The autographs I collected.
And that Leonardo DiCaprio finally got his Oscar. But then on the other hand, that might have been the final seal to bring on the Apocalypse. To bring us to our final ends... good times!

Favourite pick of 2016

DEADPOOL

Movies: Deadpool, Zootopia, Deadpool, Captain America: Civil War, Deadpool, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story and Deadpool. Did I mention Deadpool?
Books: The Martian by Andy Weir was an unexpected happy surprise and a thoroughly good read, Tough Shit by Kevin Smith cracked me up and made me want to listen to Kevin's SModcast (also highly recommended btw), Contact by Carl Sagan was truly marvellous and The Brothers Cabal by Jonathan L. Howard was fantastic.
Events: (Because yes, we need this too.) The Manatee, the Giant Panda and the Humpback Whale are no longer critically endangered. There is now an Ebola vaccine. Suicide rates are going down world wide. Child mortality rates are going down world wide. The ozone layer is healing itself. The money gathered from the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge led to the discovery of a gene that could be the key to beating the decease. See! We actually managed a few good things.

But in conclusion:
2016, kindly fuck the fuck off.

I swear, the bar for 2017 is set so low...
...and I say this knowing full well that Trump's presidency hasn't even started yet and the plan is for Brexit to step into effect this spring. We have a lot of shit to fight and rectify.

A very Merry X-Mas indeed

Every year I give myself a few X-Mas gifts as to make sure that I receive something I very much would like to receive. Call me ungrateful but that's how my mum prefers it (she hands me some money followed by "buy something you want, wrap it and say it's from me"). It lacks a certain element of surprise but has an abundance of convenience for the both of us.

   So this year I went with socks with pictures of silly dogs on them. A copy of Fight Club 2 I had to gift-wrap the moment I got it in the mail as to  not read it immediately. A couple of games I found on sale on Steam (I couldn't gift-wrap them but there wasn't any real need to). A wall calendar by Maul Cosplay (entirely for research purposes I assure you, upper left corner warning label reads "High Nipple Rate!" so it really stays true to the game series).

   I needn't have worried about an absence of nerdy gifts though. My sister gave me a TARDIS tea mug and a Doctor Who shower curtain.

   Last but not least I got food.
   Food never fails to make me merry.

Beer with me

Early X-Mas gift from the boyfriend: beer.
The fancy kind I can't waste money on right now.
Awesome.

The Hutt Recommends: Dandy in the Underworld

Dandy in the Underworld by Sebastian Horsley.
(TW: substance abuse, suicide mention)

"When Mother found out she was pregnant with me she took an overdose. Father gave her the pills. She needed a drama from time to time to remind her that she was still alive. The overdose didn't work. Had she known I would turn out like this she would have taken cyanide." p.1

This is how the autobiography of Sebastian Horsley takes its flying start, and it continues in the same self-deprecating spirit. With every page Sebastian takes us through a life of escapades littered with absurdity and vulgarity.

   After growing up one of three children born of negligent addicts in what I can only describe as an abusive setting ("Indeed, everyone in my life who should have been vertical was horizontal."p.38) Sebastian sued his father for a large sum of money, consorted with convicted murderers, went to art school and fell in love all before seeing his twentieth birthday. He'd move on to get married, commit adultery, get divorced, continue to make art, do heavy drugs and sleep with prostitutes in between making massive amounts of money on the stock market. Even Sebastian could see his addiction to crack getting overboard so he got himself into a clinic. Stayed clean for a while. Started doing crack again. Got off of crack. Got into heroin. Got off heroin. Constructed a few art shows that didn't do too well. It wasn't until he went to the Philippines to have himself crucified in front of a camera team that he found himself in the spotlight not only in the UK but internationally.

   The main theme is dandyism in all its eccentricity; it is always the subject to which Sebastian unrelentingly returns to.

 "I was a disciple of satin and Satan." p.263

The book is revolting at times, shocking... most of the time.

   This also happens to be one of my favourite books. Sebastian Horsley was an artist of words, a wordsmith in truth, and Dandy in the Underworld is proof of that. Yes, some of these recollections are at the height of absurdity but always described in such an elegant, witty and brilliant way that you can't help but keep reading and taking it in. Here is the man who started doing heavy drugs, make 'art' with his own excrement and have frequent meetings with prostitutes before the age of twenty. He would later also get crucified, get banned from entering the US for 'moral turpitude' and make a YouTube Guide to Whoring.

   I have great trouble remembering that this was in fact a real person who died of an overdose in 2010, only three years after the publishing of this autobiography  and only two days after the premiere of the one-man show based on the book. His friend Toby Young, a journalist you might also know as the writer of How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, commented that "if it had been suicide Sebastian would not have passed up on the opportunity to write a note" and considering what a slave to drama dear old Mr Horsley was, that sounds pretty much on the nose. So he made a book out of it. Dandy in the Underworld ends with what I can only interpret as the finale and finishing touches to a suicide note of epic proportions.

 "I came into this world a king, I leave it a wild card. I believe in being nothing - but with as much style as I can." p.322

This book is not for everyone. I love it.

Third down

   Sean Astin is an amazing human being.

   Lucky he turned out to be the amazing human being he is, because he was the only reason I decided to hop on a train (train commuting in this country is tragic, always count on being at least 20 minutes late to your destination) and go to Stockholm (a city I dislike terribly and try to avoid unless I'm paid) and their take on the Scandinavian Sci-Fi, Game and Film Convention (arranged several times a year in different cities).

   This was my third Con this year (Gothenburg, Helsingborg, and now Stockholm) because... LotR actors. David Wenham, Billy Boyd and now Sean Astin. I've started hunting them down to make them sign my LotR trilogy illustrated by Alan Lee.

   Astin ended the signing (after having had a geek-out over the illustrations) with slamming the book shut and pinning me with a stare.

Him: "You know what I hate about you?"

Me, squinting suspiciously: "What?"

Him: "Nothing!"

   After which he laughed, grabbed my hand, shook it and told me he loved my hair. And that's that.

   Three down.