By far the best film of 2005 was Werner Herzog’s mind-altering Grizzly Man. Those who disagree should go out and rent it again. Good, huh? I know. I liked it too.
My father is a newsman, and during the election season he heads down to D.C. to do reporting. When Rumsfeld resigned, I knew that he would be thrilled. Donald Rumsfeld is one of my father’s least favorite Americans. When I … Read More
My favorite movies are always about dreams. As are my favorite books. In my mind, the standard by which all artistic output should be weighed is how successfully the creative mind has tapped into his or her dream-world, and how … Read More
Tilty Gringot frowns at the fresh face of the morning and draws shut the curtains. He is an ambler and a shuffler, Tilty, and as he walks from the window to the kitchen small flurries of dust obscure his feet … Read More
One of my primary introductions to the Arts, and more specifically the Performing Arts, was through the little-known genre of Modern Dance called “Site-Specific Dance-Poetry Fusion.” I have been taken with this unique blend of spoken and written words and dance since I was a child, and have done much reading about it, including the seminal works Poetry, and also Dance by Klaus Fuchten and Movement through Word in a Particular Place by the legendary Mary Timrock. Oh god, I’m lying!
Often times, during my perambulations about campus, I am accosted and questioned about various topics ranging from neuroscience to Neo-Platonism. I have never begrudged a fellow academe his curiosity, and so I am not surprised that I have accrued a … Read More
Last week a movie called Date Movie, presumably because it concerns dating or perhaps one particular date, was released nationwide. It is the brainchild of the same team of writers behind Scary Movie and Scary Movie 2. This is also … Read More
I can’t say I’m anything to be anyone to be saying a thing about it, but I’s heard it enough, I have, as much as any. But it was, gah, it was over yonder ways near Bristhlewaight or Skinnamarok or … Read More
The President of Italy and his three friends, a Duke, a Magistrate and a Bishop, sit at the head of a table surrounded by teenage SS officers, a few older women, and about twenty young boys and girls. Some of the youths are dressed in suits and dresses, others in their underwear, while still others sit naked. A nude girl emerges from the kitchen with a large tray of steaming shit…
~and~
There is a neighborhood on the outskirts of a city with a lousy bar and grimy brick buildings and orange lamps in the alleys. There are towns where in the deep hours of night cars prowl the streets full of dumb menace. Vague criminals and edgy losers grope at women dressed in cheap finery and the sex is drunken and ugly and brief…
My grandmother was a pirate. The other was an astronaut. She would have been, anyway, had she not failed her medical exam due to large traces of cocaine in her bloodstream. She was also a drug runner across the border, much to the shame of my father and uncle.
I remember the most beautiful party I have ever attended. It was held in a loft up-town. It was night-time, when the streets are brighter than the buildings and the eye is drawn slowly down, and I could see the Columbia University Observatory…