just finished v for vendetta. it was brilliant, am still in an emotional exhaustion, my heart strings still in tight little knots. it plays out in a philosophically poetic cloud of smoke and tear gas from an anarchist's demolition. of course, i loved it.
i also recently finished reading "repent, harlequin!" said the ticktock man, an amazingly wonderful and bizarre short story by harlan ellison.
it's the title that got me. is that not the most crazy awesome title a short story? i'd never heard of him before, now i'm trying to get my sticky little hands on any of his words i can find. as i read it i knew i was reading the works of the superior intellect of a genius, or the ramblings of a complete mad man. but one can never be quite sure with the good ones, eh?
while the blood of anarchism and dystopian strife flow through my veins, i think next will be civil disobedience by thoreau. hee-haw!