The Queen had an engagement yesterday evening, leaving me with the house all to myself. So I did what any wild-at-heart, red-blooded male would do, given a night of unexpected bachelorhood:<\/p>\n
Matthew Baldwin: married but not domesticated.<\/p>\n
I was surprised by how good it was. The beer, I mean. Logan’s Run<\/i> was a calamity. I picked it up after a few people expressed mystification that I had never seen it. When I mentioned this to The Queen, for example, she reacted as if I had told her I was missing a lung. Everyone emphatically urged me to correct this historic oversight. “It’s just so, so, so very, very, very bad,” they would say. “You must rent it immediately.”<\/p>\n
And I did. And I watched it. And I learned some astounding facts about the future.<\/p>\n
A<\/b>: I wish I knew who my seed-mother was.<\/p>\n
B<\/b>: What’s wrong with the Incu-droids? And, besides, you know that even thinking<\/i> thoughts like that is will get you in trouble with the Conformity Council.<\/p>\n
A<\/b>: I know. But I’m 29 years old, and since all citizens of Galatropolis are killed at the age of 30, what do I have to lose?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- Apparently the whole “Death with Dignity” movement will have collapsed by 2274, since shuffling off the mortal coil in Logan’s Run<\/i> entails the wearing of Stupidest Costume Ever, flying into the air, and exploding.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Even the credits<\/i> of this movie are bad. I mean, if you made a motion picture predicated on the idea that all people die at 30, would you put “And starring Peter Ustinov as Old Man<\/i>” in the opening? Um, spoiler, dude.<\/p>\n