The Voice of London Episode XVII

Monday. In Bath today. Arrived late. Two o'clock train cancelled. Had to wait for the 2:30. Checked into hostel without problem. Not as nice as the other ones I've stayed at. Oh well. Can deal with it. Forgot shampoo. Again. Always doing that. Oh well. Can deal with it. In a pub now. Lamb and Lion. Bought a pint of Blackthorn cider. Good. Can't tell if it's better than Scrumpy Jack. Haven't had Scrumpy Jack from tap since Norwich. Wondering if I should order food. Had a late lunch. Not really hungry. Probably come back for lunch tomorrow. Curry special sounds good. TV playing "My Humps." Wish I didn't have so much drink left. Oh well. Can deal with it.
I recently discovered another library that's near my current place in London. They've got a nice big graphic novels section. I got myself a library card and started taking out books. I've read half a dozen in the last two days. Among them the first issues of Hellboy and Spawn. I must say, Spawn looks great and the character's got a pretty big coolness factor, but the writing on the book is pretty shite. On the other hand, I just read the first two volumes of The Ultimates, which is Marvel's version of the Avengers in their "Ultimate" universe, and it is bloody awesome. It's done by Mark Millar and Bryan Hitch, both of whom have worked on The Authority, another really good superhero team book.
To deflect accusations that all I read now is comic books (I won't deny that it makes up the bulk of my reading material and I won't dignify claims that comic books are immature) I should also point out that since arriving in England I have completed reading the Anxiety Makers by Alex Comfort, read several chapters of my textbook on Asian philosophies, Alan Moore's Voice of the Fire in its entirety (admittedly this is by a comics writer), and am most of the way through The Master & Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, said to be one of the greatest Russian novels of the twentieth century. That being said, man comic books are great. I think I've gotten to the point where I'd rather read a comic book than watch a movie. Don't get me wrong, I still love movies (I'm probably going to go see one tonight) but most movies just aren't as engrossing or even as exciting as a good comic.
Case in point the movie I watched tonight: Apocalypto. Basically I wasn't terribly impressed. Yes, it looked good. Mel Gibson's films have had, if nothing else, at least that going for them. Though I haven't looked into it I do have some doubts as to the accuracy of the portrayal of Mayan culture, but that's not what I had the most problem with. After employing the film's most interesting setpiece (the Mayan city) to fulfill Gibson's torture fetish the movie turns into Rambo with loincloths, complete with every jungle cliché you could conceive. Let's see, we've got to have some dangerous animals. Jaguar? Check. Snake? Check. And the jungle itself is pretty dangerous. Waterfall? Check. Quicksand? Check. But beyond the it's-been-done script dressed up in gimmicky trappings there's a technical issue that bothers me. There's this swinging spike trap that's used in the beginning to hunt tapir. In this instance the claw like trap skewers the pig full on through its broad side. Later on, when the trap kills one of the guys chasing the main character (I don't consider this a spoiler cause if you can't see it coming you're probably pretty dumb), it strikes the guy right in the chest. The reason this bothers me is that a tapir would at best come up to a man's waist so the trap should have struck the guy in the thighs and crotch rather than two feet higher up. Anyway, I'd much rather see Thor and Iron Man tear the shit out of an alien invasion fleet or Captain America take down Giant Man. On a final strange not regarding Apocalypto, in the credits the film is dedicated to the memory of Abel and I'm thinking, "As in Cain's brother?" As Catholic as Mel Gibson is that is not out of the question, but if it is referring to the biblical Abel that is weird.
Tuesday. Had lunch at Lamb and Lion. Red Thai curry. Pretty good. Four pounds. Did the tour of the Roman baths. Interesting stuff. Did supper at Lamb and Lion too. Mozzarella and pepper burger. Really good. Three pounds. Probably have it again before I leave. Going to get some pictures of the Royal Crescent tomorrow. Not sure what else to do while I'm here. Costs money to do most things. Tourist town. Maybe just hang out at hostel. Read or watch movies. Got some comics with me. Should keep me occupied for a while.
Yesterday someone had put on X-Men 3 in the TV lounge of the hostel. It was already started when I came in but I caught most of it, including the bit at the end that I missed in the theater where Professor X somehow isn't dead. My immediate thought was, "What the hell is the point of that?" The only reason for bringing a character back from the dead like that would be to open the possibility for further sequels, which the rest of the movie effectively killed. And why do so many of the mutants Magneto recruits seem to have super jumping ability? Lame, lazy, and lame. I hate you Brett Ratner.
If I'm not mistaken the next comic to film adaptation to be released will be 300. The trailers show promise but I'm a bit wary. Any director who thinks he can adapt Watchmen as a feature length film arouses my suspicion. So you just better watch yourself Zack Snyder. I've got my eye on you.
Bath seems to have a surprisingly low concentration of really attractive women. It's possible that a bias has been introduced to my observations by virtue of the places I've been frequenting, but even walking around on the streets I haven't run across as many attention-divertingly hot women as elsewhere. Not that there appears to be a disproportionate population of ugly chicks or nothing. It's as though everyone's just averaged out in the looks department. I saw more hot girls at the Tool concert than I have here, which probably says something for Glasgow. Hence part of my desire to go back.
Wednesday. Had dinner at The Porter. Was drawn to its declaration of vegetarian pub food. Not worth it. Wider selection than other places but food no better. More expensive too. Will go to Lamb and Lion for lunch again tomorrow. Watched Ichi the Killer in the evening. Directed by Takashi Miike. Very bloody. Very, very strange. Back to London tomorrow. No more vacation. Plan to have a job by February.
The Royal Shakespeare Company is currently performing Antony and Cleopatra in London. Apparently with Patrick Stewart as Mark Antony. Having recently (well, in the last six months) finished reading that very play and being a fan of Patrick Stewart, I'm going to try to get out to see it. They're supposed to be staging The Tempest next month (I imagine Stewart would be playing Prospero), which I would also enjoy seeing. In either case seeing Patrick Stewart performing Shakespeare will be pretty cool. "We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep where we boldly go where no one has gone before. Warp six. Engage." Awesome.
And speaking of things about which I was rudely kept out of the loop (I wasn't speaking of that but I didn't want to open the paragraph with "So Brad never told me he was getting married"), Brad never told me he was getting married. What the hell, Brad? I sent you a fucking postcard. That doesn't entitle me to be informed of your impending nuptials? And by informed I mean told personally. Any yahoo can hear about it from Joe. Were you waiting to send me a goddamn invitation in the mail? Or were you just not going to invite me at all? Thought you could sneak off and have a clandestine wedding behind my back while I was out of the country? Is that it? Well I've got news for you, pal. I've got contacts. Informants. Moles. Snitches. You can't keep anything from me for long. And since when have you had a girlfriend?
It really is a word.

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobically yours,
Matthew Hawkins