Rockin' with the Cusacks

Everyone knows the Cusacks are the shit, and if they don't, they should. From John back in High Fidelity and Pushing Tin all the way up to Joan in School of Rock, the two kids have been throwing down for quite a while. My latest two Cusak moments have been in the recent Grisham flick, Runaway Jury, which proved to be solidly stimulating, if not earthshattering, and a re-aquaintance with Grosse Pointe Blank, which, if I might say so, is simply one of the more brilliant films ever made. John plays hitman, Joan plays hitman's secretary. What more does a movie need?

I've been doing more than just watching Cusack movies lately though. I finally finished Great Expectations, and to be honest, I had expected greater. Well, no, that's not quite accurate. I could expect no greater from the work, Dickens is a genious, it always shows, and the book was great. Nevertheless, the ending, perfect as it may be, left me feeling a bit empty, and a bit down. I was sad, and I don't like being sad. My remedy for that situation brings me back to the Cusacks, which I've already covered. In any case, I've now started Villette, another Victorian barn-burner by none other than the ugliest Bronte sister, Charlotte. All this reading and riding is getting in the way of blogging, which has also taken a back seat to rocking, which is at once envigorating and devastating. I propose that the only solution is to watch more Cusack movies, so I see Say Anything in my near future. The only other solution is for you lazy bums to speak up and holla back. Just because I'm writing to an audience of none doesn't mean I should have to feel that way. For now, in a manner only a bit like John in GPB, I slip back into bed with nought but a lumpy pillow, a baseball bat for any manner of crawling pest, and Charlotte.