I‘m rewatching Aliens. Decades later, this movie still holds up. Over the years, Corporal Gorman has become my favorite character in an already fantastic cast. Gorman is in over his head, sure, but I always got the impression that he was almost competent enough. And even when he loses his shit, it’s clear that he’s trying to keep it together. Gorman redeems himself in the end, but I never thought less of him at any point of him in the movie.
As I finished writing the above paragraph, I looked up from my phone to watch Ripley tell a freaking out Private Hudson that she’s “sick of his bullshit.” And after dressing him down, she tells them they need him, gives him a purpose, calms him down, and gets his head in the game.
Such an amazing scene.
My grandkid took his first dance class. He got to bust out some of his moves at the end of the class. The teachers did a great job. I can’t wait until his next session.
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to RENAISSANCE by Beyoncé and Guard Dog by Searows.🎵
Would a brown dwarf have enough gravity to capture a planet the size of our moon if it entered its system? Asking for a friend.
I purchased an ascot. Now I need to learn how to tie the damn thing.
After seeing a few dick pics in the local and federated timelines on Mastodon, I have changed my setting to disable sensitive images. But now, when I click to reveal what some have chosen to deem sensitive, I only find photos of bowls of stew or a pint of lager. Weird.
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to The Sun Still Seems To Move by Shannen Moser and Bougainvillea Suite by Brant Bjork.🎵
My grandkid switched things up and told me a bedtime story. He took an old chestnut like Goldilocks and spun it in unexpected directions. I was riveted.
To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, let it go.
—Mary Oliver, In Blackwater Woods
