This is the kind of thing that usually goes in my DeadJournal, but for whatever reason, I started typing it here, and I figured I may as well finish it.

Going to the movie isn’t exactly what you’d call a religious experience for me, but it’s about as close as anything gets without actually being a religious experience. I love movies, and I’m quite pleased with new DVDs and all, but it’s just not the same as going to a theater and watching a movie. There’s something about the whole theater experience that just appeals to me on some level that I can’t quite define.

On the other hand, there’s something about going to the movie theater that I hate, and that’s the other moviegoers. Let’s face it, people are rude, and they’re everwhere. On Fear Factor, I’ve seen them put people in boxes and fill the box with rats and the like. Well, given the choice between a box of rats or a theater of people, I’d choose the rats in a heartbeat. They’re cleaner, and they’re definitely more polite.

Don’t get me wrong. If the movie theater is filled with people who’re obviously excited to see the movie, it’s an experience like no other. I remember writing about my experience with X2: X-men United, which was absolutely the best theater experience I’ve ever had. The place was packed, and I didn’t notice a single person who was there for any reason other than seeing the movie.

What other reason is there to go to the movies, you ask? Well, most people just see the theater as a social thing. You gather some friends up, and you say, “Hey, why don’t we go see a movie?” Or, you take a date. Or, you go out with your family. These people come to the movie for the social experience, and the essence of the movie going experience is lost on them.

When I go to the movies, I go in, sit down, and I remain silent. If I have a friend with me, I might lean over and whisper a remark here and there, but it’s rare, and I definitely don’t talk in any way that someone else could hear me. Today, while I was watching Hellboy, the woman sitting in front of me turned on her cell phone and started using it. She ignored pleas to turn it off, and I would’ve gone to complain, but that would’ve involved a.) leaving my seat (big no-no. If your bladder explodes, you still don’t leave your seat during a movie. Period), b.) Missing part of the movie, and c.) Talking to someone. None of those things particularly appealed to me, so I sat still and fantasized about shoving that cell phone down the stupid woman’s throat.

At least I can take comfort in the fact that, if Shepherd Book knows anything about the afterlife, she’ll be doomed to go to that “Special Hell.” (See: Firefly, episode: Our Mrs. Reynolds)
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