Gravity

I realize that I said at the beginning of October that I was only going to watch horror films, but that plan has definitely gone out the window. Mrs. Deathrage and I went to the theatre and saw Gravity in 3D. It was spectacular, but I don't think I would ever watch it again. There's just too much junk spinning around in it. It gave me a slight case of vertigo. I've only been to space a few times, like that time I battled giant robots on the Moon, and I don't remember ever having twirled around like everything does in Gravity. Sure, I understand that there were extenuating circumstances causing Sandra Bullock to spin around like a top, and the little home-made rocket-ship I "borrowed" from my arch-nemesis Robot Monster wasn't crashed into by the International Space Station.

Robot Monster fashioned out his rocket of cardboard, vacuum cleaner hoses and Mason Jars, and I piloted it to the Moon just to get on his nerves. Anyway, I could've vomited up my Junior Mints watching Sandra Bullock somersault for 45 minutes. Flying to the moon isn't rocket science, for crying out loud. You just point the nose of the rocket at the Moon, press the big red Go button, and fly. I mean, you hardly even have to fiddle with the rocket's levers that very well might have once been on a child's Green Machine. You don't even have to turn.

No big whoop. Anyway, you know that old saying, "The shortest distance between the Earth and the Moon in a stolen rocket-ship is a straight line"? Well, if your trajectory isn't littered with trillions of dollars in chunks of spacecraft debris, it is.