Good Night, and Good Luck

Just finished watching "Good Night, and Good Luck" (a haigiography written by George Clooney expounding the righteousness of Edward R. Murrough, so says my professor), and was pleased.

I disagree this movie being a glowing biography of Murrough. It's a story, and it's Murrough's story. It's filtered viewpoint from the Newsroom, smoky and stark in its black-and-white contrast. There is no grey here, and Clooney as director made that clear. There was no fence-sitting. Face the fear, or live under it. And in that sense, can we not step out from the shadow and strike it down as is, truly, righteous? Vanquish the fear.

I went to Minneapolis last night, hoping to see Neil Gaiman speak, and just essentially rock as a gentlemen. I misjudged travel time (and even traveling at an exceedingly rapid speed) I missed the chance to do so. Only so many seats can be filled by free tickets. So I stood around the door, contemplating sneaking in. I didn't. Instead, I left early and drove around downtown Minneapolis and hoped for about forty minutes. I meandered back to Eau Claire, losing my keys and refinding them, backtracking in Hudson, and drinking coffee along the way. Came home and found my iPod in complete disarray. It needs an overhaul.

I'm going out tonight. Clancy's. Probably with Collin. I need to move out of Leigh's very soon. Should call Eric.

Well, good night, and good luck.