I watched Flash Gordon again today. It was bloody terrible (I had actually forgotten Flash’s criminal “acting”) but I still liked it.
I finished reading The Lovely Bones by Alice Somebody the other day. I could see objectively that some bits were quite good, but I just didn’t like it.
I was moved to ponder the difference between thinking something is good, and liking something. Not moved enough to come up with any kind of answer though.
* and yes I do mean “everyone”. Please feel free to tell me how I am an emotional cripple for not liking this book, I am ready for you!