Music for the Jilted Generation, anyone?

It pleases me to be reminded of how much I enjoy something forgotten but not lost. My Little White Box of Happiness is good for this (this is the name of my iPod, call it like it is naming). I've loaded all of my cds onto this little lovely and when I let shuffle songs reign, I am reacquainted with old favorites. Which brings me to Prodigy, Music for the Jilted Generation.

Speaking of music, no Music Midtown for me. Overarching MM experience: standing in line for a port-a-potty, up to my knees in suspect mud splatter, fending off the chatter of a drunken high school girl. Hmmm...

Instead, I spent Friday evening at the opening of the Atlanta Film Festival with H. I was trying to ignore the fest this year (saving money), but Miss H. sucked me into it - I need a date for the opening? Sure, I'll go with you. Now I'm in. The opener was Hustle & Flow . Generally great flick. There were moments of "art film", but you expect that from a young director and it didn't detract from the experience. In a way, these artsy shots added to the connection I felt with the film. They were the sort of shots you see walking to the post office and think, shit - that needs to be in a movie. Frequent enough bits of beauty are interspersed with the ugliness to make for a moving film.

This evening I saw The Edukators, a festival film. Good choice.