For me to use my perfect crash record in an argument about who’s the better driver would be the equivalent of screaming to the universe, “DEAR THE SWEET LORD PLEASE SMITE ME WITH THE MOTHER OF ALL VEHICULAR ARMAGEDDA!” how superstitious I am.
Probably for the best, because everything I learned about EFFECTIVE COMMUNICATION in an argument turned sour in the real world. Respectful? Calm? Collected? Composed? Each an ingredient in an explosive compound. There exists a certain level of tension necessary for a safe argument: each person has to become somewhat agitated. One person remaining absolutely rational during a fight is like screaming to the universe, “DEAR THE SWEET LORD PLEASE SMITE THIS VOMAN WITH TEH RABID FURY!”
Much like using ‘Legend’ in the title of your movie is like screaming to the universe, “DEAR THE SWEET LORD PLEASE MAKE THIS MOVIE ANYTHING BUT A LEGEND,” sort of like ‘The Legend of Billie Jean’ or, uh, well that’s all I can think of cause I only seldom see this thing you call TALKIES.
I bring this up because the universe has not cooperated with me of late, leaving me uncharacteristic of myself. Not a bad thing, cause CHARACTERISTICALLY I’m moody and downtrodden, so much so that I recently saw an advertisement about how America is the greatest nation on the world, and I suddenly felt like I should move, since I was likely bringing down an entire country.
* * *
Which for me is not saying very much.
You say, “For the love of Pete.”
I say, “Pete’s getting a lot of love these days.”
You say, “The Danish Flag Industry is surely turning a profit.”
I say, “See? I TOLD you cartoon violence wasn’t funny.”
You say, “Are we gonna be laughing til morning?”
I say, “Best way to get through the night.”
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