The Red-Headed Kid came over and they watched Thor while I moved pennies around on a table trying to understand where all the convention center money was going. The best part of the evening was that the Butcher and the Red-Headed Kid had both recently seen a movie called Ironclad which they both liked and they were attempting to converse about, but it turned out that the Butcher had seen a movie about the Civil War and the Red-Headed Kid had seen a movie about the Crusades.
But it took them a good five minutes to realize they weren’t talking about the same movie.
“The battle sequences were intense!”
“Like when that one dude got his head cut off?”
“And I like that dude with the beard who’s in everything.”
“With the red beard?”
“What else has he been in? He was the one I didn’t know.”
And so on.
Thor was pretty terrible, but in a fun, cheesy way. And I dreamed all night about trying to get back to Asgard either from a cemetery I was helping to restore or from a library, in which we were riding stampeding horses. So, it must be the kind of movie one’s brain likes to chew on, even if it’s not very actively engaged while actually watching.
The only thing I was terribly bummed about is that, yes, it included Idris Elba, one of my favorite actors, but an actor I love for his physicality and the way he can convey things very subtly with just slight changes in inflection and facial movements. And his face was mostly obscured and he just stood around. Kind of a waste.
And Sif’s hair was the wrong color.
Ha ha ha. No, it was fine. All throughout the movie, though, the Red-Headed Kid and I were throwing in obnoxious Eric Northman references, both because dude seemed to kind of be doing an Eric Northman impression and because his dad’s in it. The Butcher claimed not to be amused, but he was laughing.