The girl with the dragon tattoo

I just finished the book yesterday and now today I'm off to see The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo this aft. I've been looking forward to this movie for months now.

Ditto for Harry Brown. It's been coming to the local 3$ theater here for months now. Hopefully, before I die...

Speaking of before I die, I'll be hitting the road next week for my old Kentucky home in Louisville. I wonder how many of the old girlfriends are still around.



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+++ possible spoiler alert +++

RidingFool's picture

Things I learned vvhile vvatching this movie:

  • Svveden is cold. Colder than Hades. Probably colder than Canada. Plus, it nevver seems to vvarm up, even in summer.
  • Its dark all the time, just like the dragon tattoo.
  • The electric trains look kind of nice.
  • Svvedish vvomen are skinny and have no tits  - not that there's anything vvrong with that. It's probably because of all the coffe and cigarettes.
  • All the men are ugly. It's probably because of all the coffe and cigarettes.
  • The language is completely incomprehensible.
  • Teak furniture abounds.
  • Svveden is depressing. Like Finland.
  • Svvedes don't hang themselves in the vvinter, unlike Finlanders.

P.S. If you can't read vvith a Svvedish accent, don't bother seeing this movvie. Plus, I nevver savv a single IKEA in the background.

The girl who played with fire

RidingFool's picture

is the tantalizing second novel in the Stieg Larsson trilogy. How timely of me to have finished volume two just before the second movie was released.

IKEA finally makes an appearance.

Although both movies are in Swedish with English subtitles, that didn't detract from the suspense in the slightest, and I soon forgot I was reading through a movie - something we Canadians must do most of the time when an American release comes to town.

It's all about the different language we speak up here.

Ask Coaster how difficult it was to communicate with me when I visited him in Okiehoma. He eventually got used to the placards I made him write out while he was talking to me. He rather enjoyed holding them up with the middle fingers of both his hands. Eventually, I had to ask him to please blur out the middle fingers, since this was America that we were in, and middle fingers aren't allowed.


When Chica called me to tell me that Harry Brown was finally at the 3$ theater, I rode through violent thunderstorms, rain, wind, hail and more rain for a day to get to see it. Thankfully, I paid only three drachmas to get in to see that dog die.

Harry is a decorated British Marine who served in Northern Ireland. For some reason, pictures show Harry with less medals and ribbons on his chest than an American Coast Guard Admirable. Go figure.

When his pal is killed by a gang of thugs, Harry takes it upon himself to see that vengeance is his. Geriatrics around the world will rejoice in Harry's fondling of a young, nubile female zonked out on drugs in a grow-op. At least, it appeared as though he was fondling her. It was kind of dark, though and I couldn't tell for sure.

For those of us thankful that we don't live in the socialist heaven that is England, there are plenty of scenes in dark, windowless, unlit, walk-up apartments filled with senior citizens living out their glory years in relative poverty and darkness, while all around them gangs of wild young adults party and fuck mercilessly under a well-lit bridge.

Had Harry run a power cord from the bridge to the apartment complex, he would have been recognized as a hero for allowing people to see how shitty their subsidized accommodations really are. Revolution would soon have followed.

Instead, we're treated to a Charlie Bronson-like movie starring someone older than Charlie Bronson.

And I paid three drachmas for that shite, not to mention the weather I rode through.


I'm going back to reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. I'm hoping the third movie in the trilogy will be released by the time I'm finished.

I hope and pray that when these things are produced by Hollyweird that Angelina Jolie is not picked to play the part of Wasp. That would just be unholy. She's too old for the part, but I could feel her lobbying for it all through Salt.

I watched that skinny bitch in that movie, and really, there was nothing to watch. She's barely in the movie, even though she's in the movie - if you get my drift. I get the feeling that she sleepwalked through the entire thing.

Angelina needs more than a few good meals and a good thrashing* to bring her back to reality. Brad must be lost in a fog wasting his life on that skeleton of the undead.

And who in their right mind thinks that she's pretty? You need your heads examined. She binges and pukes to get to look like she does, guaranteed.

*not to be confused with beating.

brad and angie...

TMundo's picture never occured to me how weird adopting african babies was until Paul Mooney said something about how he had about 5 or 6 crack and heroin babies at home he had adopted.  It put things into perspective.  What exactly are they doing with those babies.  Is it really a good lifestyle change for a famous couple to publically adopt a poor baby and bring them around the world?  Do the parents get to be real parents?  It raises all sorts of questions, not saying its bad or good, I'm just saying, can't you adopt a baby without making a public show out of it?

I wonder why

RidingFool's picture

none of Hollywierd adopts African-American babies. I suppose there's no press in that though. Plus, the way grown-up African-American babies end up speaking and dressing would be a real turn-off.


Forget the movie...

Mal_Content's picture

how was the book?

What are these "book" things of which you speak?

Coaster's picture

We may have a kindle in our future here.  We'll probably check out the smaller, newer one on account of me being a cheap bastard.  In the last quarter, Amazon sold more e-books than it did hardcovers which was a first. 

Speaking of e-books: Am I the only one who finds the placing of an "e-" in front of words tiresome?  Maybe I'm just becoming e-fatigued. 

Aha! Well, in that case...

RidingFool's picture

I have the Sony Reader, and I love it.

On the other hand, there's just nothing like the smell involved in cracking open a new book, and all of that touchy-feely stuff involved. You know - turning pages, putting it down and losing your place, picking it up and losing your place, dropping food on it, spilling drinks on it, throwing it across the room, that kind of thing.

The e-readers don't do those kinds of things very well, but mine has its place.


What about all the e-trees that will be cut down?

Rajah's picture

To make your e-books?


Coaster's picture

You're fun-e.

The Brad and Angie book?

RidingFool's picture

Updated: Here's a link to Saturday's (July 31) Globe & Mail article on the subject.

I couldn't put down Stieg's final volume, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, in the trilogy. I was up until 5 a.m. to finish it in one sitting. I didn't eat, didn't snooze, didn't answer the phone and didn't go on any blind dates until the end of the novel. Seriously. It was amazing.

On the other hand, Tattooed Chica wasn't in town, so it was a piece of cake to sit up all night reading.

I'm hoping the final movie will be as entertaining as the previous two. I'm also hoping that Hollywierd won't bastardize it, but we all know how that goes. I say "it", because I'm almost certain that only one American movie will be made from the three volumes of the book - probably three hours long. I can't see funding for three movies based on a work by a Swedish author, now deceased.

I can hear it already: You want what?!? Funding for three movies based on that Dead Swede's translated book? Fuck you! What? There are three books? Fuck that. Do it in one, or I'll find somebody who will.

The dumbed-down version of the Svvedish movie

RidingFool's picture

has been cast:

Heaven help us, they're going to have all of the actors speak with Svvedish accents. I'm wondering if there'll be subtitles for the U.S. audience.

James Bond has the male lead

Coaster's picture

So don't worry.  There's nothing James Bond can't do.

The girl with the dragon tattoo is Pippi Longstocking grown up

Rajah's picture

Learned that on Jeopardy

Oh! Oh! Oh! Pick me! Pick me! *waves hand in air like skoolkid*

RidingFool's picture

It's finally here! Part three. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest will be featured at the discount theater next week. The theater has recently undergone renovations, so I'm not so sure this elderly gentleman will still be permitted to urinate in the back row like I used to. And those new leather seats will be nothing if not sticky by the time some of the more dubious patrons have been sitting in them for a month or two.

If you will recall, book number three kept me awake and on my back until 5 in the morning - unlike some women I used to know in a former life. Sometimes back then I found paying attention and staying awake whilst on my back to be such a chore. But I digress.

Where was I? Oh yes, the book. The book was good. Did I say that already?

Here's hoping the final movie keeps me awake and paying attention, just as the book did.

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