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Wednesday, July 29, 2009
"Necromongers"
Note
the implied many-facedness of the Necromonger Lord.
Do I have to draw a picture? No, I don't think so, faith clowns.
Do I have to draw a picture? No, I don't think so, faith clowns.
INFIDEL COMMENTER. Well. Something Maggie and Mrs. IP can absolutely agree on. From Maggie's comment on the AARP:
The country is under the control of
Necromongers.
I truly HATE these evil people.
I truly HATE these evil people.
The Necromongers figure in The Chronicles of Riddick, probably Mrs. IP's favorite sci-fi movie, bless her heart. She's never told me, though I would like to think so, that she's responding to the implication that Riddick's doomed and dooming planet of origin is really a metaphor for f___ing Scotland. The damnedest, cussedest, most warlike set of misanthropic rebel a__holes ever bred on the face of God's good green earth. "Not my fight" says Riddick, walking away from the desperate Resistance movement. Of course he'll be back, but never on anyone's behalf but his own. That's how I feel. I am absolutely outraged that the Obama Administration would ever seek to control me. They'll have to kill me first, and probably will, but don't ever think there will be no cost. As you may have gathered, I am a simple Scot. Without any particular saving graces. Hurting them a lot while they're killing you seems enough sometimes.
Or... think of it in milder terms. I and the Missus like movies. Some more than others.
For me it's On the Waterfront. For Mrs. IP it's Chronicles of Riddick, the movie that if it comes on and you pass it in channel-hopping is a magnet that draws you back ineluctably to see its end. I can wait all the way through for the scene where Terry Malloy takes Lee J. Cobb apart before they beat him mostly to death. Mrs. IP can wait just as long for the scene where Riddick plants the dagger in the Necromonger's skull, over the dead body of his never-to-be true love. I think Eva Marie Saint should be there with a damp cloth wiping the brow; my better half not so much. Of course, Mrs. IP is Irish, which is why she's content with the emotional awfulness of Riddick's fate, but if Ireland had had more like her, the green people would have conquered England and exterminated the enitire breed of old Etonians to the last man and girlie-boy. I'm just saying. She tolerates me for putting Michael Collins on my list of Top Ten movies ever, and I just smile to myself when she locks herself in for another go-round of Riddick killing people who deserve killing.
The really good news? There will be a Riddick 2 and a Riddick 3. Can we say the same for our imperiled nation? Stay tuned.
