I really do need my copy of Kung Fu Hustle back

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere, but now that I have a personal blog with at least some traffic I might as well mention it again: to understand my mental processes, watch Kung Fu Hustle and Shaolin Soccer.  The latter represents the kind of world I’d quite like to live in; the former represents the world currently going on inside my head. Which is kind of goofy and surreal, but ultimately quite fun.  In a disturbing sort of way.

Or, as Shaenon (noted webcomic artist who brought us Narbonic, and is currently bringing us Skin Horse*, both of which should be obsessively read by any person interested in mad science)  noted in comments here:

“Kung-Fu Hustle,” like “Sin City,” is one of those movies that made me wonder why other movies are always forcing me to look at boring things, when they could be showing me machine-gun-toting hooker armies or middle-aged landladies using the Lion’s Roar Attack against the World’s Greatest Killer.

One does wonder that.

Moe Lane

*It’s a Velveteen Rabbit reference, you perverts.


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