“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”
This was the look on my face when I first saw Star Wars, as well. Hello, bro cat.
A brown vehicle, surprisingly tasteful in its wildly gothic external decor, stops at a light. Amid the various brownish skulls and headstones adorning the SUV-ish car, I spot a sign saying “Thank You For Your Patience During Our Remodel,” and the active rear window wiper has been fashioned into a waving hand. Inspired by two comely girls waiting on the corner, the driver rolls down his passenger window, and out blares “Break on Through” by The Doors. Accompanying the song is a lip-synching monkey puppet, singing to the girls, who squeal and delight in this spontaneity.
This is an example of shit that happens in Portland every day, and why I adore it.
This is some amazing footage of a submarine crew rescuing 12 aviators as their bomber is shot down off the coast of Japan during WWII, and the veteran who sees the film for the first time 60 years later.