A tin-plated nonsense came up over the hill on spindly legs and entered our village at a stately pace.  Our village, having never seen such a thing, crowded the visitor, eager for a chance to benefit from its peculiar form of smarts.  Presently, the crowd around the figure thickened so that its stilts now acted as posts sunk into the earth.  Its immobility was all the better for the onlookers to worship it, and although skeptics existed, they were shouted down by the others.  The nonsense itself, now robbed of the ability to execute its gawky walk, it preferred, I thought, not to make itself a target of ridicule.  It stayed in our village thereafter.

The elephant in the room wants more attention than we are willing to give, and frankly, if five guys out of a proverb want to come over and fondle him in the dark while hypothesizing as to the beast’s identity, they are welcome. I’m sick of our pachyderm. Have been for over a year, if truth be told.

Grains of salt. Wadded napkins. A scent of slivered fried potatoes in the air. This former site of dining, this leatherette monument to food-based fellowship remains desolate. But clearly someone dined here.

Grant Sims revolutionized technology. His early death saddened us, but we shouldn’t ever forget that he put all of himself into the products we enjoy today. Now, not forgetting this, we should also know he was human. So let’s allow the man a flaw or two without losing sight of what he meant to us.

First off, the film runs three hours with dialogue in an invented language that is translated but shown in subtitles that don’t show up well against certain backgrounds. That’s half the movie. Also, special glasses must be worn. Concession stand fare, just for this feature, requires utensils but you must use your non-dominant hand to feed.