Scientific Meth-OD: Saints & Shimmers

Well, I told you Annihilation was nonfiction. 

Did you listen? No, of course not. No one listens to me.

Kneeling Before Very Strange Gods

New Yorkers praying to Coatlicue. In New York.

Today's the 101st anniversary of Jack Kirby's birth. Yes, yes; I realize I missed his centennial but there might have been a few other things going on at the time, no? 

But it finally dawned on me that Kirby and fellow oracle Elizabeth Fraser's birthdays are back-to-back (I'm slow like that) and there's probably a deeper astrological meaning behind it. But since I can barely even remember the Zodiac, I'll leave that analysis to the experts. 

However, I'd be remiss if I didn't drop the whole Regulus in Virgo business here again, seeing as how Kirby's nickname was "King" and that Our Lady's namesake was known as "the Virgin Queen."

Apocalypse 2Night: Come, Armageddon, Come.

I never got the whole Dario Argento thing. I mean, I get it; I realize why hipsters would be drawn to his work. It's "stylish" and "surreal" and "transgressive." If you like that sort of thing.

Me, I just find his film-making clunky and more than a bit mentally-sick. And not in a tormented visionary way, more in a Doc and Mharti or Boiled Angel kind of way. It's more like the aesthetic of John Wayne Gacy's clown paintings transliterated to film, for me at least.