magid

Wednesday I went to see The Triplets of Belleville at the Kendall Theater. First they showed a six-minute animated short made decades ago by Walt Disney and Salvador Dali, called Destino. It's an odd piece, with a dancer ebbing and flowing with the changing sculptures and structures, as a Spanish song plays on. The girl is very Disney, but many of the other forms are too odd, too unbalanced to be anything but Dali.

The feature presentation was a slightly strange movie. The French title had subtitles, which lead to the expectation that the rest of the movie would, too. But it didn't. There wasn't much dialogue at all, but there were background conversations and shots of newspaper stories that were in French and could've been translated. They weren't exactly necessary, but it would've been nice. Otherwise, I was impressed with how much of a story could be told without words. Which is not to say without sound: there was a lot of music, a lot of it 'improv', on such things as came to hand, and very catchy (I've been having earworms of the music since leaving the theater, mixed in with bits of Dresden Dolls songs.). I liked the style of drawing, too (though I had to giggle just about every time a mobster henchdude appeared on screen; it was just too perfect). As to the plot, well, without spoilers I can say that I like that there are bicyclists, and that old ladies are incredibly resourceful. And dogs must howl at trains, no matter where they are. For some reason I wasn't bothered by all Americans being fat, more amused at how it was done. (Heck, it's a lot more true to life than all Americans being stick thin.)

How do some senders of spam manage to have things sent out with no name in the sender field? And why, especially when some of it doesn't have a subject, either?

I'm still fascinated with the spam that comes my way, mostly because it's so obviously not at all aimed at me in particular. Anything with garbage in the subject line, or egregious grammar or spelling errors, or suggestions to emend my anatomy, are just not going to fly. It's unlikely I'd open mail from a random person anyway, but this isn't even trying. Do they just have quotas for how much they send out, and are paid based on that?

I got new shoes the night before Arisia, a pair of Dansko clogs (well, almost-clogs: they have a bit of heel at the back). They're comfortable, and have the advantage of being slip on and off, which is very convenient in this season, as I try not to track slush and stuff into my house (or anyone else's). I was surprised to find another change: I'm not tensing up muscles nearly as much when walking on ice. I don't know if the soles actually have more traction or it's all a mind game I play with myself, but I'm glad either way.

I know I'm lacking the sports fan gene, but it's especially clear when it comes to football. I just don't understand the fascination with watching large men run into each other.

I went to the library last night, and took some time to browse the stacks. Which lead me to discover that the stacks aren't where they used to be. Well, physically, they are, but the layout of what's where has changed quite a bit. The new layout seems pretty good, and more efficient, but it's still not familiar, and I was surprised by how much that meant to me, to have my library stay reasonably the same. I know it's not going to: there are plans for the expansion on display, and we need the new space. But it's sort of like going to the house I grew up in and finding some of the rooms switched about, or vigorously redecorated. Not in a bad way, but it takes a while to feel 'home'.