For you Whedonites out there, I just thought I’d remind you that the first part of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along blog is now live.
This probably isn’t a big surprise for those of you who have been reading the blog for a while, as I’ve been geeking out about it for a while.
A couple months ago might remember me talking with Felica Day. She’s Penny, the female lead. On the offhand chance that you weren’t reading a couple months ago, and you’re interested, here’s a link to the interview I gave her. And, contrariwise, here’s a link to the interview she gave me.
If nothing else, they will give you something to read while you’re waiting for Dr. Horrible’s page to load. I’m guessing it’s going to get hit pretty hard today…..
pat
P.S. By the way, let’s keep the comments section spoiler free, shall we? Not everyone will be able to watch it right and nobody likes having the good bits given away before they’ve had a chance to watch something themselves.
While I understand the desire to talk about the awesomeness of something like this, we must restrain ourselves. Sublimate the urge to say something along the lines of, “That was so cool when he blew up the sun and died at the end.” Instead, say something gushy and loving about the show itself. Extra points given for odd-but-appropriate comparisons. For example: “That was so cool that I feel like I just got to hug a kitten and eat an entire ice-cream sundae.”
Remember folks, people who give away spoilers go to the special hell: one reserved for child molesters and people who speak in the theatre.
Do Not Bounce.
So, I can’t imagine my life without Dr. Horrible. I’m dimly aware of doing things prior to watching it. I wrote a book, learned to walk, lost my virginity, etc etc. Silly things. Trivial things.
Joss Whedon. I don’t think there’s even a word for what I feel for him.
There’s awe, that’s a given, plus a vasty respect. Then those two emotions are tangled up with an odd, primal terror. I know that sounds odd, but that’s the only way I can describe it. He terrifies me. It’s the same fear a caveman would feel when confronted with, say, Opimus Prime. It’s the terror that drove people to burn witches at the stake. Why? Well, because they can do things. They have preternatural abilities that freak us out right down to the marrow of our bones.
So. You take that knot of molten awe, respect, and holy terror, wrap it up in a fluffy blanket of love, then sprinkle it lightly with toasted coconut. That’s how I feel about Joss Whedon. Is there a word for that? If not, we need one.
Were I not Pat, I would be Diogenes. Were I neither of those, I would be Joss Whedon.
But I’m not. I can’t be Dr. Horrible either. Is it wrong that I want to dress up like him? Where can I get a lab-coat like that?
I think that there might be something wrong with me….
By tomorrow I’m guessing I will have settled down a little. But right now I’m thinking I might want to do a video blog or two. But honestly, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, I am many things, but I’m no Neil Patrick Harris.
What about you guys? Would any of you be interested in seeing a video blog?
pat