Admission

I'm going to admit here, and only here. I've told my friends and my family knows, but none of you know and I suppose, if I'm to be perfectly honest with the world I must confess it here. I'm not ashamed. Really, I'm not, nothing to be ashamed of-- a lot of people did it. I'm not special, I'm just honest.

I paid good American money to see the best marketed film (even if wasn't necessarily marketed by the studio, per se) this year. Yes, I went and paid six hard earned dollar bills to see Snakes on Plane. With that admission, I'm sure I probably lost the only friend I had in the blogosphere. Either that or she'll be jealous and wish she had seen it, too.

The most asked question I get when I tell someone that I saw the movie is this: "So, how was it?" My standard answer is: "It was what it was, I knew exactly what I was gonna get when I got there. It is nothing more than a turn-off-your-brain-leave-your-problems-at-the-door escapism." Its overacted as only the great Samuel L. can overact. Its cheesy in the good Swiss Cheese kind of way and it has just enough pop, violence, contrived sex scene, and punny dialogue to make it a great dorm building movie (much like Showgirls and Twister were when I was kicking back beers with the boys in Behnken Hall at Con-You Austin).

This movie will probably not help you understand the theory of Pi, or even the deeper meaning of the lint in your belly button, but it will do a pretty good job of giving your a brain a much needed mental-lube job.