No, Macaulay Culkin, No!!!

My friends have made fun of me before because I complain about my "sleep-cycle getting screwed up." What none of these so-called friends realizes is that getting up at a reasonable time is a constant struggle for me. If I give my body an inch by sleeping in as long as it wants one day, it'll take a mile the next.
Well, ever since coming back from the US I've been complaining about jet-lag. What's really happened, though, is I just haven't been firm enough with my body to make it wake up when humans do this week. I missed one-and-a-half lectures this week because I hit snooze so many times on my alarm clock that it malfunctioned and gave up on me (three days in a row!). I have to put it across the room and just admit that I have a problem - there's no other way. Otherwise I'll be waking up at 3:30 in the afternoon every day.

Like today. Since, like my other post said, everyone leaves on Fridays, it was a really mellow Halloween. I have to read Great Expectations for the third time and it's really slow going now that all the suspense and discovery is sucked out of it (Rachel, "you may kiss me if you like"). I also have to read the book of Margery Kempe, which is a Medieval diary by a crazo woman who talks about Jesus hanging out with her and how she loves crying in front of stained glass windows and abstains from meat and sex with her really patient husband and blah blah blah. What a sweet Halloween!

I did celebrate a little, though, by watching one of the movies that absolutely scarred me as a child, The Good Son. Post-Home Alone and right before leaving films for a decade, Macaulay Culkin was looking to shake up his image a bit. He did so by being in a 1993 movie where he plays the absolutely most hate-able little shit you will ever see.
I remember coming into the family room as a child and seeing the movie on TV and plopping down to watch good, old Mac. Before I knew it he was forcing Elijah Wood to watch him shoot at animals with a crossbow and simulate suicides in order to cause highway accidents. It really resonated with me, having been forced, like little Frodo, to spend many awkward hours with kids of my parents' friends who were certifiable psychos.
Anyways, the movie's aged really well and, though I've seen it three times, it never fails to creep the ever-loving shit out of me. Must be a masterpiece. It's on youtube, if you want to see it, but you have to watch a clip called something like "THE MOTHER OF ALL CLIFF-HANGERS" to watch the end.



A similar movie that I haven't seen since it first came out is Neil Jordan's The Butcher Boy. I kind of want to read the book first and confront my demonic memories of this movie by understanding it. I was like, ten or eleven when my dad brought it home from Hollywood Video and I loved horror movies, but I definitely wasn't old enough for this movie not to leave an impression on me. Plus, I'm in Ireland and Patrick McCabe's practically royalty here, right? Or maybe I should make an effort to experience some culture elsewhere.
Dig the awesome intro: