Ultraviolet

For ye faithful:

Thank you for continuing to read Popcorn Picnic despite how late I've been for the last couple of weeks. I work for this magazine, see, and recently -- on a whim -- pitched an illustration for one of the pages. Surprisingly enough, they bit! So despite my utter adoration of the few hundred people currently reading Popcorn Picnic, I had to make that illustration first priority. Because, see, a million people would be seeing it.

Yes, I'm serious. A million.

That alone, of course, couldn't have pulled me away. It also took those three little words every artist wants to hear: CASH-O-LA.

I hope that brief explanation will prompt y'all to forgive my time transgressions. If not, please accept my personal recommendation that whatever you do, come plague, devilish threat, nuclear holocaust, ANYTHING . . . for the love of all you hold holy, do not allow yourself the temptaion of seeing "Ultraviolet." Unless you're particularly fond of ham-fisted, laughter-inducing emotional tripe or TRON-esque special effects.

In all honesty, it may well be the worst movie I've ever seen.