# feeling a bit better today that is generally speaking - but right shoulder is still fully intent in providing me with constant slow burning pain akin to tires burning underground it always takes a substantial negative change or break / tear in the daily fabric of one's health in order that one is forced to radically review one's priorities - not that 'choice' as such is involved since it wasn't a matter of choice that i sit slumped on an old couch for three damn years writing like a maniac and ruining my health - that is if by choice one really means 'already having enough fiscal resources to take regular breaks from the terminally boring routine of (art-as-)work' **//** got so many cool garmes coming out on steam at the end of the year am hoping i'll be well enough to play them they often cheer me up some more thoughts on tron: ares that scene when ir's driving the car in the 'real world' (essentially no different and certainly not separate from the capitalist war matrix of ir meagre origin) and leto says ey really likes depeche mode one immediately thinks such a ridiculous statement 'far too little and too late'; we're around 45mins into this cheerless red trudge of a flick and suddenly ares imagines everyone will be happy and impressed with ir fresh new rendition of 'a ftully emotionally-functional and somehow remotely relatable intelligent being' **warning klaxons sound in lab background** danger will robinson this whole scene is so pathetic half-assed and generally weak sauce it's like they needn't of bothered trying.. (not that they even did!) it's the visual equivalent of a guardians of the galaxy 'quip' the other entirely bizarre unnatural scene (deep uncanny ai-dogslop sludge valley) is when ares enters the old ('original') tron grix reality matrix. 'ready player one' sprang to mind like the piss soaked bandage wrapped around an undead 80's dick it is; that is the director vainly hopes that by doing that 'referencing an older better film'(tm) bs ir own stark neon failure will immediately gain enough cultural cachet - some mystical charge of the 80s empowering the drastically mediocre movies of tomorrow. (turns out the whole scene is itself cheap and sad looking - decidedly shabby with not even the long undead hyper-corporate ghost of its mythic founder flynn able to evoke more than a vague flicker of.. whatever) // republic of bob