If anyone had said to me, even a couple of months ago, that in July of 2017 the President of the United States would suddenly decree, apropos of nothing, and via Twitter no less! to “please be advised that the United States Government will not accept or allow Transgender individuals to serve in any capacity in the U.S. Military” I’d have snorted like an outraged donkey.
The beauty of Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Logo lay in its acknowledgement of things already gone. A fiction feature about a documentary being made about a near-legendary punk band embarking on a doomed crusade to re-boot the old glory, the movie played sadly and sharply into the myth of rock music as an eternally rejuvenating force. It ain’t. Sometimes it just makes you feel older and reminds you there’s no going back.
Despite my most wholehearted wish, I am not a writer by trade. As some of you may or may not know, I have a day job. I work in an office, a corporate drone, so Monday mornings, especially those Mondays after particularly good/fun/relaxing/not long enough weekends are possibly the most dreaded time ever. So when it’s a Monday like today, where I’ve taken a day off, are the most wonderful days ever. This morning I woke up late, and got out of bed at my leisure. I made some coffee and turned on my TV. Flipping the channels I landed on one of the millions of movie specific stations offered and paused at a specific title. Trigger. I tucked into my coffee, curled up in my arm chair, and watched. And as a result, I am now sitting down to write my first ever movie review.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 