Apocolypto

"...and his face was propped on his coffee cup like a golf ball in a tee. Swear to god, when they took him away there was an unfinished Nutty on his plate."

Yikes... great image. I hope it's not a little flash of the future for me... I'll think twice about the nutty next time.
Remember the crew-cut (or maybe bald?) diet guru lady that shouted "Stop the Insanity!" at her audiences. That's how I feel... some day, hopefully, I'll stop the insanity.

I honestly don't know how I could have used all my newly learned, completely grokked tools to build up an inpenetrable wall against alcohol and other drugs, but still cave in to sweet shit that I know is slowly killing me... There is a tin of peanut brittle in the pantry downstairs, calling my name... I will go down to refill my coffee cup, and I will hear it scratching at the door, telling me just a little, just this once, a little bite, maybe a handful, maybe take the whole fucking thing upstairs with me and set it on my fat stomach while I write, rubbing sticky salty gunk off my fingers so I can continue typing, the dog looking at me with crooked ears and neverending hope...

So... on to Apocolypto.
It was entertaining... some good fight scenes, gory sacrifices, young tight-bodied Mexican girls dressed up as Mayan ladies, bouncing titties around, etc. Typical Mel Gibson... the protragonist was just a Mayan Bravehart, just like the Patriot, etc...

But, what struck me as I was watching it was the never ending firehose of conflict against the protagonist, up to the very end, when after all his struggle, family trapped in a well, raining so they'll drown soon, running from the nasty guys who want to use him for sacrifice, wanting to avenge his father's death, etc. etc... running, running, about to die just from exhaustion but then they keep coming, running, running, until he hits the end of a path, an overview of the beach, and then the ocean, and it is at that point (think Friday the 13th, floating on the calm water in the canoe at the end, Jason explodes out of the water) that he sees the whole fucking Spanish Armada, just now hitting the beaches with their muskets and small pox (or whatever it was). The point is... talk about conflict... gawd... the shit just got worse and worse and worse... Turned out at the end that he rescued his wife and son from the well (oh, that's the other part... she gave birth to their second child in the water of the well, as he was trying to pull her out... yeah...) and then they escaped deep in the woods, assumingly safe from the conquistadors, at least for the moment... yikes. I'd rather be kicked back at home with a fresh box of Toasted Nutties.