Rambling Fool Reviews Ran

Damn dog, you ever watch movies? Sometimes i watch movies. Sometimes i even do drugs. And sometimes, late at night, when i'm sufficiently inebriated on reptile slime, i decide to babble incoherently into a microphone after the movie ends, and bullshit my way through some rambling stream of consciousness that in some ways can be loosely called a review, the same way James Joyce's rambling fart letters are sometimes called novels. 

It's a reflex at this point. I've spent so many shameful years writing irreverent media criticism that it's permanently fucked my brain into reviewer mode, so i can do the talky part on autopilot. Then i pass out satisfied and confident in the knowledge i surely must have said something funny or interesting in there somewhere. 

It's only later, when it's time to be sober and work, that the vague memory of my late night film spiel returns to me, and i discover with horror that what felt like a 5 minute reflection on the complexities of cinema is in fact 45 minutes long and sounds more like an Arkham Asylum mental patient recording than a structured analysis of whatever the topic was. 

The tedious bulk of my work consists of slaving over an editing timeline to mold this slow verbal pudding poop into a solid chunk of turd rock, which then must be chiseled down into something watchable. Then i add images, or something. I don't know, I've given up on this terrible metaphor. 

Finally i put the video up as unlisted because the world doesn't deserve me, and usually forget about it entirely. Until i suddenly remember it weeks or months later when i need to make a patreon post and my infernal 4 gigabite lets plays are taking their leisurely time uploading at the pace of a python which hath swallowed a baby elephant.