yes I know it’s not Sunday. it Just sounds better, alliteration and all. anyhow- I’ve been meaning to start a regular weekly stream of consciousness type post in which everyone is invited (encouraged) to pick up the thread and roll with it for the rest of the week. Casual, off the hip, low pressure, whatever comes to mind. give everyone a chance to check in and unload as it were. I’ll begin
Saw Broken Flowers yesterday. Bill murray in full on hang-dog slow-mo. Bill needs to change it up. Enough mopey non-acting already. How about some over the top, gary oldman type, villain role for him or something? Seriously. capsule movie review. somewhat amusing, somewhat snoozing. the “lolita” scene was probably the most inspired part. short though it was.
question: isn’t sitting in a movie theater a confirmation of your worst fear about the rest of humanity? Namely that they are semi-retarded. or if not retarded at very least utterly unlike you in outlook? take for example a preview. say a preview for some formulaic, re-heated, sub-par, piece of donkey dung comedy which is totally lacking in effective humor of any kind. isn’t it slightly dumbfounding when right on cue huge swaths of the audience titter and chortle? ho ho! ha ha! and your sitting there thinking, “what the fuck? that was not funny. in fact it was insultingly unfunny!” or even worse, a commercial. a fucking commercial!! a fandango or coke commercial. a run-of-the-mill dollop of marketing bullshit with only the smallest effort exerted to entertain flickers across the screen, and, incredibly, laughter tears loudly through the audience. ?! am i the retarded one? am i so emotionally stunted that i can’t see the humor? or has eddy murphy, circa 1985, time travelled titor-like to this theater to do his act down in the front row and i’m wrongly making the assumption that the audience just erupted in peels of laughter over a couple of paper bags with marshmallows glued to their heads?
“wanna fanta-don’t you wanna? wanna-fanta?” good wine-swilling christ!
on television sneaky murderers are always caught forensically. “well we found traces of such and such a chemical. the murderer must have known biff worked in a french fry factory and injected him with…” why don’t murderers just induce an air embolism? pump lots of air right into those veins. kaboom. painful too for those revenge killings. always wondered about that.
question: why is it assumed sharks, alligators, snakes, and dinosaurs are the only members of the animal kingdom worthy of having television shows made about them? i’m so fucking bored with all these “extreme!!!!” animals! fucking hell. tell me about badgers and meerkats and silver backed gorillas. tell me about manatees and foxes and otters. tell me about toads. tell me about baby panthers. pretty please.
was speaking a friend on the elevator the other day, talking about raising his soon to be born child, and i started thinking about the things we do which we can’t remember being taught. things we do every day maybe. showering for instance. do you ever think, “hey, i might be doing this all wrong. i might be doing this backwards or totally different from every other human on the planet? i don’t remember learning how to do this. does everyone stand on their head to wash their crack?” you were taught how to tie your shoes and chances are you still tie them that way to this day (bunny ears anyone?) but i’m pretty sure no one taught you how to masturbate or how to screw. why do you do the things you do? why do you shower that way, in that order? why do you wipe your ass that way? are you even doing it right?
question: if prostitution is the oldest profession, and countless men and women have walked that path, experiencing life and humanity from a viewpoint few others get to see, shouldn’t a great philosopher have come from within the ranks of the whores by now?