Superbat

So, I've watched the first 51 minutes of Superman vs Batman and given up due to the super slow internet and its inability to keep streaming.

  

Gah. I seriously never, ever imagined I'd miss Virgin.

Anyway. Thoughts. I should probably call it Dawn of Justice, but I can remember when Star Wars was just called Star Wars. That's not all that relevant. (harsh, imaginary reader, harsh)

Turns out Superman is better than Batman. Who'd have thought it? I always argued that Batman was superior due to his being just a man instead of relying on superpowers, but when held up against Superman, his lack of superpowers just make him seem a bit dweeby.

It isn't just aesthetics. 

No, it isn't.

Henry Cavill being so very very very attractive versus Ben Affleck being kind of meh is utterly not the point.

Ahem.

.

I'm sure there's a story there? We've just discovered that the second thinnest woman on earth is Diana Prince. (Well, her name popped up on the phone screen when I was trying to convince it to keep streaming, I don't think we should know that yet). But still, Wonder Woman. That's awesome. She's awesome. Where does she fit in? Why don't I remember anything about any of them? Should I have been watching all the Marvel/Avengers/whatever films and keeping up? 

And then we got a little spinning circle, and so the viewing ended and has now been replaced by Match of the Day.

I am a little concerned that my long lived devotion to Batman is waning (or Wayning perhaps). Since Batman, the Tim Burton one, came out and I watched it at the cinema three times, my adoration of Batman has been pure and complete. But now there's a few things that I Don't Like.

Well, Ben Affleck would be one. But there's a few things that go along with utterly irrational fears (no, I don't know what will happen if my feet are exposed in bed but I'm not risking it) that have turned up in this film so far. Two things actually.

The first was the branding. No no no. That's creepy. That's one of the things that make me inexplicably and bizarrely frightened of Zorro. (Yes, really). And the second is the utterly terrifying face on the new bat suit,

(picture taken from Cinema Blend but I believe it was first tweeted by Zack Snyder)

How menacing is the face on that? Very Anonymous and very scary.

So, tomorrow will hopefully see the viewing of the remaining 100 minutes (no, even the lure of Henry Cavill's torso isn't enough to try and watch it at silly o' clock). I do hope to emerge without an actual fear of Batman. I was shattered to discover that Jason Donovan is actually hideously awful, despite harbouring a major crush on him for 22 years. It will be a little galling to discover that all my devotions of 1989 were errors of judgement.

For the record, I have to hate Amy Adams. She got to be an actual Disney Princess. She got to act with the Muppets. And she gets to a) be Lois Lane and b) kiss Henry Cavill. Too much for one girl, sorry,

***disclaimer*** I don't know what the man thing is. I appear to be on heat. Obviously I usually hardly notice them. La la la,

Hey. Zorro wasn't ever anything to do with Marvel was he...?

Today's brain seepage

CNPS is going well, I'm on 19 now. Only 981 to go. It takes up a spectacularly large amount of my consciousness at the moment, I wonder how long this will last. At the moment I have fond memories of spotting most of the numbers, I can't see that I'll end up with 999 distinct memories. 17 was good, as it belongs to a neighbour and I knew that all I had to do was to return home and I'd see it. 18 I saw today and this evening, I am ashamed to say, I drove to a friend's house as her registration is a 19. However, she lives on a cul de sac and as I drove in, I realised that I would have to virtually drive up her driveway to see her car and that could potentially be really embarrassing. So, no 19 and I have a 20 lined up at a garage ready to be seen in its time. Grr. When I get to 51, I want it to be my car, so if I see a 50, I'll have to immediately stop and get out to look at mine before I see another one, being as how they're rather common. Or does it count that I can see the interior of the car?

Yes, ok, I am doing most of my spotting while driving. Stand by for some idiotic crash soon...

I am about to colour my hair. I have spent vast amounts of time and money trying to replicate my own colour because I am distinctly grey and I don't like it. I like it even less because my 41 year old brother has little or no grey, and my 68 year old mother has but a handful. I have been disguising mine since I was 23. After not dying it for a year or so whilst pregnant I had decided to leave it and just accept it, but I got fed up with everyone asking me if I'd had highlights. Yes, of course, white highlights are cool, are they not? The trouble with having dark brown hair is that is impossible to mimic. Just brown gives the impression of having coated your hair with brown shoe polish, yet anything with a non-flat colour is either virtually black, or reddish. I look anaemic with the black option, so I have no choice but to be kind of auburn. Cappuccino, I think it's called, by Garnier Nutrisse, is the closest I can find. Davina McCall uses it, so they lead me to believe, but they also tell me she uses the multi highlights, until you read the small print that says her hair is styled with natural extensions. Which I'm guessing is where the highlights are... I tried the highlights, I looked like a tiger. Not a good look.

The reason for the diaryesque nature at present is that I am reading Richard Herring's blog, dating back to the start in Nov 2002, which makes me think in a bloggy sort of manner. I am now in Jan 2003, not very far in, and it's really interesting. Like an autobiography but including the everyday thoughts that would never make it in a book. It's astonishing to read how someone as clever, funny and well liked as he can be so self doubting sometimes and it does also make the mind boggle when thinking of people that have such fame and attention when they are neither clever nor funny (or indeed talented). It does also hit home the vast differences between people that are in the public eye and people who aren't. Day to day, life may seem the same, but it's not. A blog is a classic example, I am writing this for me and for a handful of friends who may or may not read it, I can pretty much say anything and not worry much about who reads it. Someone who is famous doesn't have that luxury. And I don't think that really is a remotely good example of the differences at all, but it's an example and I'm sticking with it.

I have recently read autobiographies of Russell Brand, Jason Donovan and Richard Hammond (hmm, can you spot the criteria for my reading? *blush*) and the first two both strike home the fragility of fame and the fickleness of being adored. Different for each as Jason Donovan was a heart throb in the 80s, while Russell Brand was at the height of his adoration at the time of writing his book. Interestingly, Jason's book shows an entirely likeable side to him, whereas it's difficult to like Russell in his book. Richard Hammond on the other hand is entirely refreshing on the "I'm just me, I have a cool job" front and he does seem to be entirely unaffected by the fact that half the population of the world think he's gorgeous.

Final rambling thought: I must add David Mitchell to my list of great people. He's brilliant, I think I love him. Really.

Fickle, moi?