Haircuts, Harmonix, and Holmes

It's been a glorious weekend apart from the anticlimactic boxing match that brought the world to a standstill. I managed to leave work for two whole days and resumed my normal, predictable, and didactic life.

So what does one do to spend two days of freedom?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing in the sense that everything you do will have trivial consequences at the most.

First, the hair had to go. It's been a fun ride sporting the 'do that made no sense. Long, wild and wispy. While I enjoyed it, it wasn't really practical to keep putting my bangs behind my ears during meetings with tenured managers and distinguished stakeholders, not to mention my mom. Plus, in this weather?

The sessions with dinosaur jr are getting great as well. At 2 months, I think we have a pretty good understanding of each other, much to the chagrin of his mother. He now smiles at me whenever i glance at him. I guess we now communicate by eye contact a la Clever Hans.

Next, axe grinding. This has nothing to do with revenge but more of playing Rock Band 2, thanks to my trusty plastic and diminutive wii Gibson pretendo-caster. I managed to free some new songs from offspring, Jimmy Eat World, RHCP, Lit, and Paramore, plus I earned enough for a tour bus. Fake Europe tour, here we come!

Next was my second attempt at watching Sherlock holmes - the Guy Ritchie version. Being an unofficial baker street irregular for most of my life, I was gonna view this version with a far more critical eye than usual. While the film was nice, the action never boring, the set superb, and the acting was good, this is not my Sherlock holmes.

- Watson was never this assertive.
- Irene Adler was never collaborative.
- Lestrade wasn't that meek.
- Mary Morstan wasn't that controlling.

And my dear Holmes was reduced to a clumsy, gung-ho, macho, and romantic warrior. He was still languid and bored as ever, but he far displayed too many emotions to accurately portray the automaton he really is.

The Holmes I knew, read and admired would never be that human. And would probably dismiss the case of Blackwood altogether. Those things would never pique his interest. And he would never be victim to a deception, especially from Moriarty,who incidentally would never carry a gun.

I do appreciate the many references to the novels and short stories. Overall, this tribute was a nice attempt to make Holmes more presentable and less of an a-hole.

Unfortunately we diehards love Sherlock the way he was. Now I dread watching Alice as distorted by Tim Burton. Oh well, at least it wasn't Joel Schumacher...

Wish I could have more weekends like this. Doing things I love and not what I'm supposed to.

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