Brave New World
February 18, 2008
Deborah and I rented a predictable, clichéd Science Fiction movie called Equilibrium last night. Typical vision of a fascist future where everyone is controlled by drugs and where "feelings" are illegal. Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, 1984, et cetera, and so on, with a healthy dose of The Matrix for style. The movie stars Christian Bale and Taye Diggs, who, in the final scene, face off in a surprisingly short samurai sword fight. If we've learned anything from Science Fiction movies in the last ten years, it's that all post-apocalyptic disagreements will be settled using time-stretched martial arts while wearing black trench coats. Anyway, the face-off becomes literal when Christian Bale slices off Taye Diggs’ face as if his head were a slab of luncheon meat.
"Whoa," I said. "There goes Taye Diggs' handsome model face."
It was the best part.
"Handsome model face?" said Deborah. "Is that where he's from? Is he a model or something?" She'd never seen him before. After the movie, she did what she always does: she researched the actors on IMDb.com to see what other movies the movie stars have starred in. She pulled up Taye Diggs, and we looked at a bunch of movie stills and publicity photos.
"He looks kind of like Seal, doesn't he?" I said. "Only without all the acne scars."
"Those aren't acne scars that Seal has," said Deborah. "I think he burned his face or something."
(It turns out we were both wrong. Apparently, Seal's scars are from a childhood case of Lupus.)
"Seal and his supermodel wife," said Deborah in what would've been a non-sequitur if the conversation had had any thread to begin with.
"Yeah," I sneered. "Seal and his supermodel wife!"
I told Deborah a story that someone had told me about seeing Seal fall off a treadmill while working out at the Chelsea Piers gym. I belonged to Chelsea Piers gym the year it opened, when I lived down the street and they were offering a significant discount to charter members. I'd seen Seal there a few times.
"Who told you that?" said Deborah. She'd only been half listening, at best.
"My friend Robert's ex-girlfriend. She and I were neighbors. She's a lesbian now," I added. "Come to think of it, another one of Robert's girlfriends is a lesbian now, too. I guess he either has feminine qualities that lesbians are attracted to, or else he does something to turn them off to guys."
"You can't do anything to turn a girl gay," said Deborah. "It doesn't work that way. If it did, then every girl would be a lesbian."
"But every girl is a lesbian," I said. "All it takes is a couple of drinks."
I was being facetious, but Deborah thought for a second before nodding in agreement. "You have a point."
Speaking of lesbians, Brian called on Saturday morning to confirm our plans to see There Will Be Blood later that night. He told me he was going to a Yoga seminar during the day, but would be out in plenty of time.
"What's the Yoga seminar about?" I said. "Are they going to teach you the secret of stretching those final few inches to suck your own dick?"
"No, I'm going to the seminar to find someone else to do it for me. I've consulted with several gurus, and they all suggest giving up on doing it myself. It says too much about my own ego. Anyway, the last seminar I went to was full of chicks. I was the only dude. Not to mention I have a thing for the woman who's teaching the seminar."
"I see. Well, good luck."
"Thanks."
"Do you want to grab some dinner before the movie?"
"No. They're serving food at the seminar, so I'm all set. I'll meet you at the theater."
"What are they serving at the seminar? Rice milk?"
"Ha. Actually, it's breast milk. The women all lactate into a giant bowl, and pass it around."
"Are you sure you won't be hungry?"
"Yeah."
When I got off the subway on my way to the theater, my phone beeped with a voicemail message from Brian:
"I'm at the theater," he said. "I'm buying tickets and then I'm going to get something to eat, I'm starving. Oh, and I learned how to lick my own balls today. I'll tell you all about it."
