Tissues for A Camel without Any Sense of Irony

Christy will have been gone five days now. I don't quite pine for her, but I do miss her. I don't pine for her yet. When the cats start acting up severely I will pine for her.
Not entirely true - I miss her, not her control over the cats. She is the love of my life. I shouldn't have eaten that popcorn.

Speaking as such, I saw the newly cut and remastered version of Metropolis Wednesday night. I've seen it before, but this updated version is pretty qick-ass.
(Author's Note: Please excuse the substitution of the letter q in k's place in the previous spelling of 'kick-ass'. This was a typographical anomaly and shall not be repeated. Ever.)

Towards the end of the picture the additional 44 minutes of deleted footage started to be noticeable. The added time, that is. I can see how the story is affected by the missing slides. Josaphat is now a pivotal character, not just a side-kick. And Fredersen's magical defeat of Rotwang, the inventor, and subsequent escape from his lair are wrapped up nicely too.
Really great movie with a lot to say. I could have done without the final "The mediator between the head and hands must be the heart" slide, but a great movie nonetheless.
(Author's Note: The aforementioned slide was in all capital letters. I'm not trying to be picky here; I'm just saying somebody here needs to check their preachy meter.

Metropolis, I'm looking at you.

Don't you bat those dreamy (but also a little scary) eyes at me! I know your game, you sexy bitch. You're a tease, aren't you? Metropolis - I bet you line up socially conscious movie-goers around the world with those eyes--the same eyes that snared me--just to beat them into submission with your socialist propaganda:

'Making a profit it wrong - boo-hoo.'
'A machine can't give you a hug or kiss.'

But what those sad-sacks don't recognize here is your over-looked tolerance, Metropolis. Years ahead of your time, you featured an openly gay character in a major supporting role. Fritz Rasp's brave performance as the Thin Man surely inspired countless souls after him: Harvey Milk, Rob Halford, John Wayne (for his eponymous role in the 1934 MGM barrel of laughs, co-starring Myrna Loy).)

(Author's Note: Most, if not all of the previous text is predicated upon the reader's apparent knowledge, and mastery there-of, of classic cinema. Without any foreknowledge of the works of John Ford, Fritz Lang, or W.S. Van Dyke, any implied humor will be lost.
Also, upon double-checking, John Wayne did not star in The Thin Man in 1934 with Myrna Loy, but The Quiet Man in 1952 with Maureen O'Hara. Which would explain why his punk ass didn't speak up and say something earlier. Shit.
Making me look stupid and shit...shit.)