Joie is smack in the middle of an apparent burnout (a quarter-life crisis, as John Mayer would call it in between contorting his facial muscles to make the most disturbing possible expression while singing).  I attribute this to a bunch of different goings-on that have pooled their resources together into one mega Joie-ass-kicking ceremony.  It’s kind of like the Power Rangers; they’ve formed the Megazord, and I’ll be damned if I can take that thing out.  However, I feel confident that like the Green Ranger, I will soon learn that it is better to work with these forces, rather than against them.

One mystery that will never be solved, however, is why I’ve suddenly decided that Power Rangers metaphors are the way to go.  But it’s too late to turn back now, my friends; it’s Morphin’ Time.

(I’m done now, I promise.)

I recently got my inactive little hands on my very own copy of Risk-ier Business.  I THOROUGHLY ENJOYED IT.  SO MUCH SO, IN FACT, THAT IT WARRANTED CAPS LOCK.  I only wish I could have enjoyed it in a group setting, since it’s always fun to not be the only one laughing explosively.  Call me predictable, but I liked the music choices (even if the music from Dead Man’s Chest sounds exactly like the music from The Rock, and they’re both from the same guy… but then, that’s not your fault, now is it?).  And my favorite scene was probably the Mortal Kombat goodness.  If you haven’t seen it, someone on YouTube has attempted this same sort of feat, but with results that do not kick nearly as much ass as you guys did.  Whatever.  My point is, “Two thumbs up… Way up.  Way up YOUR ASS.  But in a way that reflects how impressed I was.”

And speaking (three sentences ago) of the music of Risk-y Business… I wonder if I’ve ever told the story about that Carl Orff piece featured in the first movie?  (Which I just found in MIDI format… hilarious in itself.)  Ashton and I were enrolled in a class called Survey of Music Literature last fall, a course that involved a lot of classroom listening to various famous pieces/styles/whatever.  Relatively serious professor, very quiet classroom to facilitate listening, all that jazz.  So of course, one of the pieces we listened to was exactly what was featured in the movie.  Ashton and I exchanged the “Where the hell do we know this from?” look (although Ashton’s expression omitted the word “hell”) until about :30 into it (right where it gets all quiet), then BURST INTO EXPLOSIVE LAUGHTER, which we attempted (to no avail) to cover.  Usually if I cry while listening to music, it’s not because I’m picturing a game of miniature golf, but all we could think of was the thrown shoe, and Billy’s expression of torment!!  Good stuff.

If you don’t already know, I am the proud owner of a Vox blog (TV commercial voice: New, from the partners of Livejournal!).  If you’re interested in reading my say “This is what I’m listening to!” or “This is what I’m reading!” or “This is a picture I took!” or anything else besides the moody ramblings I reserve for livejournal, I encourage you to visit joie dot vox dot com.

And now, perhaps I’ll try to force myself to get some work done.