You know, I was thinking on a couple of different levels when I dropped the Internet for all of the Sundays in Lent.

Part of me was thinking the obvious and stated.  Another part of me was having constructive yet vaguely self-important thoughts of reaching deeper understanding of my motivations, and unleashing creativity, and growing as a person—a person perhaps inspired to do bigger things, having experienced a grand release.

Alas, no.  The reality on the ground is that it’s a big pain in the ass, the most tangible effect of which is guaranteeing that I’m up past midnight on Sunday.  One more to go, and good riddance.

So my first Netflix Blu-ray experience was part of what I did with unplugged Sunday #5.  Burn After Reading threw gasoline all over the flames of my Tilda Swinton dominatrix fantasy, but left me indifferent otherwise.  Though the films are quite different, I had the same feeling at the end of this one as the one I had at the end of No Country for Old Men.  Somehow I’ve lost the Coens’ vibe.  Anymore their movies hit me like antique Victorian furniture.  Objectively I observe that what I’m experiencing is of high quality; it’s just not for me.

I hope you had a good weekend.  I did shed an albatross or two today, so Monday morning isn’t looking so bad.