So. Last night I bought the soundtrack to 300 off of iTunes. I loaded it onto my iPod, along with a few other recent acquisitions, and set up a playlist featuring the new stuff. I headed down to the batting cages to get in some practice. On the drive down I heard Cafe Tacuba offerings recommended by Jockohomo who never steers me wrong. And I ripped up the batting cages. I'm getting better and better. That's what practice will do for you.
But then, on the ride back, the 300 stuff came on.
From the opening strains, there welled up in me an all but unquenchable desire to whip a man until he bleeds. To take a warrior, rope him down, watch his muscles flexing as he tests the bonds that hold him, drink in with my eyes the topography of his powerful back, lengthen my whip out behind me, and then bring it forward, directing just where I want it. See him recoil, hear his exclamation, again and again and again. Then seeing those first red rubies, the few drops of blood on his back.
Then we're just getting going.
That's what good music will do for you I guess.