Andrew Sarris is a Bitch

He's the only reason the Tomatometer(tm) is scoring a 96% for No Country For Old Men.

Didn't Pauline Kael debunk your ass in the late sixties?

Whatevs, Mr. Auteur Theory.

That movie [insert wild wobbly Jesse-style praise here]

Mind you, no large gesture of praise would amount to hyperbole. Not even from 'round these parts, or even, gasp, from 'round them parts.

80

Feliz Cumpleaños


Or so sang sonorously Señor Wattenbarger, to my Granny today, at the surprise birthday party we threw for her.

Incidentally, Obi Wan and Señor send their love to us, be we on the west coast or in the far east, or anywhere in between.

Blip Bootwa Blip Wop Let's Make 'em Bounce

No he escrito últimamente, pero...

Fine, sure I'll post a bit, since I had to wait 'til asked, and have a very hungry second.

My recent adventures, mind, will pale in comparison to Jef's. (Read up, and be afraid, while laughing.)

Same's true for the westward perigrinations of our very own More Human Than Human Slavicist. Good luck on the Sorbian. We here thought it was dying. Shows what we here know.

Also, I never see you anymore, Cara, and I find it often cause for concern. I know you've been busy, but I miss your prose every time I get a little bit of it. Your post taste good. Like, in the mouth.

As fer me? Well, I'm pretty sure I'm either a picaro or a one's own garden cultivator, but I can't be both. This past month has been wild, rockstar, full of mistakes, blunders, miracles, and mostly laced with placid-sense-of-calm. All for good reason, but the sooner that mellowness passes, the better.

Addendum: I've missed this happening ever since I moved sites, but, I suppose inevitably, the google searches are coming back, including weekly searches for "Chateau Neuf Du Pap", thanks to this post.

Also, the number of searches for "Christopher Plummer Gay" are making me giddy.

Addendum II: Storm From the East: Rhys, you should call me. Been too long.

Elektro: Santos

Truth of the Matter is, He Said, She is: No Country For Old Men - McCarthy

Waiting Impatiently For: No Country For Old Men

Let's Get High: The Darjeeling Limited, Water, American Gangster

Ass-Weasels

Oh dear. We're renting Dreamcatcher. Words I never thought I'd hear myself saying, but we must. Someone. Anyone. I must see this.

Next Sunday, A.D.

So, I'm an especial doofus, jackhole and nincompoop for having not called, on Halloween, Holly, my dear friend and partner in humanitarian music delivery this week at Janie's.

Holly manages a feat of editing panache while maintaining verbal (and emotional) devotion to the show that formed us, and I was along for the ride, quipping and laughing my ass off at jokes and songs I've heard a million times and still love with uproarity.

Go there. Be filled with mirth.

Getting a Reaction from the Geiger Counter...

This Halloween, make sure you take a stroll down to Barstoolio Lane, 'cause she's doin' a Countdown-to-All-Hallow's-Music-A-Thon, where you'll find kickin' remixes of Danny Elfman and other assorted goodies. She's also revealed my most sinister mix, maybe ever, right here.

Her copy is FTW! (Also FTW, her photoshopping, see below)

Here's a link to my set, right click as per usual.

1. Roxiller - Fear

2. Yelle - A Cause De Garcons (Sta mix)

3. Justice vs Simian - We Are Your Friends (Scottie B, King Tutt, and Samir mix)

4. Mr. Oizo - Nazis

5. Santos - Elektro

6. Lostep - Because We Can

7. Chris Carter - Creature Feature

8. Mr. Oizo - Nazis (Justice mix)

9. Armand Van Helden - I Want Your Soul (Fake Blood mix)

10. Klaxons - Gravity's Rainbow (Soulwax mix)

You'll Never Be Alone Again

Well come on.



Still not sure where I stand on Justice's regalia, memorable as it is....

The Only Poetry I've Ever Written That I'm Proud Of....

...is about Star Wars. So, I'll give this over to a finer hand:



Fuck You, mister,

Fuck your sister,

Fuck your brother,

Fuck your mother,

Fuck your pop--

Hey! I'm a cop!

- I'm a Cop, by Thomas Pynchon

Sign (one of many) that he's postmodern: He left out "Fuck your uncle".

That little ditty's not directed at anyone. I'm not rattling off aggression. It just makes me smile.

That's all I got fer right now, folks, and the Camino browser recognises neither the spelling of Pynchon or Camino. It also, tellingly, doesn't recognise postmodern.

I will say this, I'm rumblin' some funnies deep down somewhere. I sense it when my trick knee starts achin'. Kinda like when there's a hard rain comin'. Hard rain's comin', and that always leads to some funny. Watch this space.

Lend Me Your Ears and I'll Sing You a Song: Across the Universe, The Lives of Others, Out of the Past

Dance, Too Much Smarty in the Pants: Gore Vidal - United States: Essays

Oh My God, That's the Funky Shit: Alex Metric

Worst. Whorehouse. Ever.

Why, yes, I do exist as a mere expediter of your movie larnin'. I like funnelling links to Ebert's reviews into you as if you were a right viscous cinematographic feedhole. Ignore that, if you can.

Don't, however, ignore this.


And I can't help it that he just reviewed COM on Friday. I haven't got much to write about at the moment, bloggily, so until I can bargle nargle zouse, well, you know the rest.

Im in ur mnd's I

Mkin Metfors. Kfusedthxbai!

I've Got You, Babe

!!!


"Along the way, they are pursued by Homeland Security troops, and there is a chase scene with one of the most sudden and violent moments I have ever seen in a film. Not all of the chases in all of the Bournes equal this one, shot in a single take by one camera, for impact."

He Was Never Once Paid by the Word: Bleak House

All the President's Stab: Zodiac

Are You a Replican or a Replicant?

Ridley Scott, you will never make sense to me. Knowing when to quit? Not you. I hope I can see this in a theater, what with the 8000 Lines per Frame F/X restoration. I like my eyes, and I want to like, even more, the way they see.













Ambiguity, however, seems to find itself only in your post-post-post production mentality, and not, sadly, where it belongs.

Dubbed

Even knowing full well that Ebert has marked his return with heaps of praise upon numerous films the likes of which might just indicate his elation to be back at work rather than indicating their own actual greatness (time will tell, but many will disagree with his assessment of Shoot 'Em Up. Not me, though), I'm still thrilled that his trumpeting of the Meso-American Triad is in full-swing.

After this, we must still wait impatiently for his review of Children of Men.

Now, Iñárritu is my least favorite of the three. Del Toro and Cuarón don't constrain themselves with a "hyperlink" narrative structure, and yet, I think Iñárritu probably achieved as much as he could with the plot(s) of Babel, a film I loved much more than 21 Grams. There's a palpable, yet undeniably mystical connection between the different threads comprising the third of his trilogy, a giant strength this time around. Babel builds on the possibilities of this structure instead of relying on it. Few recent films have achieved this kind of metaphysics. It's tempting to believe that Iñárritu has found what he was searching for.

Ebert's review of Babel lends ink to almost everything I was unable to articulate about it. Even if you weren't blown away by the film, you should read the above review, solely because it's an example of criticism achieving power all on its own. It evokes a movie that either you still haven't seen, or possibly, you saw but still haven't seen. It's the best thing Ebert's written since his illness. Don't believe me? Wait until the last sentence.

Didn't He/She Forget 'Pansexual'?

I'm all postin' with the computer on my belly. This is unusual for me, but readers, my belly is a tad less buoyant than it was a few months after I purchased my computer, pretty little gateway into a pretty little sedentary lifestyle that my Macintosh was. For now, I know of nothing more to report, save that I must find a better job (full-time would be good), base of operations, car, set of prospects (of all the type you'd imagine me looking for), a little energon, and a lot of luck.

There would be more to post, blast it, were it not for my one foot in the doldrums and one foot lord knows elsewhere, but that's the extent of the poetry in it, for now.

Switch Bitch: The Kingdom (Riget) - Series II

Closer before Closer was Closer: The Passion of Anna

Wow. Just. Wow.

My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult

Here's a link to my latest set, The Derridiculous Ghettoblaster.

Janie asked me to rattle off some copy for her whenever the fancy bit me, so I chose to do a track-by-track commentary at her bitchin' Noise pad, upon the unveiling of the set.

Big thanks to her for hosting me and servicing my DJ Ego, and big thanks to Holly for evangelizing the sounds to a new and sophisticated crowd.

The Adam Freeland influence (his DJ work more than his production work, really) has always weighed heavily on my choices, and I'm glad to say that where the proper music goes, I can only follow. It's really the most fun I can have without taking my clothes off. Most of you are luckier for that, eh?

Good News, Everyone!

Non-Post, but it's been ten years, and the man's back.

Heads or Tails

Toronto's shiny right now, and the more I read these, the more apoplectic I become, for I am very, very far from there.

Oh, to be credentialed, throttled from theater to theater, borne back ceaselessly into the raisinettes, and heedlessly transformed by what is all very much happening right now. This is a strong year.

When the time comes, I follow the Cannes Festival and Telluride (it would be fun to go, but no biggie if that never happens). I generally could care less about Sundance's Little-Indie-Shitfit-of-Sexually-Confused-Adolescents-and-Semi
-Adolescents-Discovering-Themselves-And/Or
-Learning-A-Valuable-Lesson-Doggerollcall. (Or LISOSCASADTAOLAVLD, as it's otherwise known), though I know for a fact I'm being unfair to many good films that have premiered there.

None of these festivals urge me towards the light quite like Toronto. Telluride's a close second. Either way, what I'm getting at here, is any one of 'em would be a great beat to cover. Great beat.

Mighty Fine Pickin' an' a Dingin': Spoon - Gimme Fiction

Everything's Gonna Be Just Fine: Burner of Corpses - Fuks

Love, Blood and Rhetoric: Hamlet (Branagh)

Have You Ever Seen a Human Heart?

To A Dreaming Experiment:

Good Show. Wish I Could Be There.

Thumb Wars

Linky Post:

Couldn't be more right.

Also, here's the silliest litigation of all time, this hour.

This Was Fun For Me

Earlier this week, at the campus bookstore:

[mundane]

Me: So, yes, I've found your section number. You'll need--

Customer: Hold on, I'ma write this down

Me: Alright, you'll need Timaeus and Critias, by Plato.

Customer: Timbus and Crimunn. Who's that by?

Me: Plato. Next you'll need--

Customer: That's Plato, by Timbus and Crimunn.

Me: Yep...You'll also need The Analects of Confucius.

Customer: Who's that one by?

Me: Scatman Crothers. Thanks for comin' in.

[/mundane]

Ok, well that last bit's apocryphal, as the customer was somebody's dad, sweetly gathering book info for his daughter.

Ah, cowwage.

Philatelite: The Decalogue

Coming Soon: A new flyin' bassline in your face(line?)