The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight (maeincarnate) wrote,
The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight
maeincarnate

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You had an Oliphant. His name was Stampy. You loved him.

As I sat in the theater last night waiting for Mickey to return with the popcorn and watching some Hootie and the Blowfish video, I was overcome with emotion. It nearly brought me to tears, and yet, filled me with an enormous sense of pride. How often do you sit in a movie theater knowing that you're about to see one of the best films ever made? In 1941, did anyone know they were about to see one of the best films ever made, or did they just want to go check out this "Citizen Somethingorother flick" their friend said was good?

And yet, I felt a great sadness. It was like looking at that last wrapped present under the Christmas tree. Yes, it's going to be awesome, but after it's open, present time is over and I have to go take a shower and get ready for dinner and stuff.

I had to call Gamer and express all of this. He warned that in my schoolgirl-like giddiness, I may have gotten my hopes too high and that the movie could only go downhill and it hadn't even started yet.

It didn't go downhill. I was holding my head in disbelief for parts of it, and clapping and cheering like some sort of mental patient. It was everything I had hoped. I literally have a cut on my palm from where my fingernail broke the skin.

And now for a special note to Charlie "Two Weeks Notice was even better than Maid in Manhattan" Stoessell and other idiot movie critics: The reason why the conclusion secnes were 45 minutes long is because this is a TWELVE HOUR MOVIE. You can't just wrap it up in the usual 5 minutes.

I hate you, Charlie Stoessel.
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