Good riddance to 2009, and the entire decade past.

Good riddance to 2009, and the entire decade past.

Good riddance to 2000, the year we suffered our first Shock to the System when The Supreme Court placed a Village Idiot in The White House.

Good riddance to the American Hysteria that re-elected him in 2004.

Good riddance to 2001, where in the fall of the year, we fell into a seemingly irreversible catatonic state.

Good riddance to the war without end that began in Iraq in 2003, and has since been franchised.

Good riddance to the tea-baggers and the birthers of 2009, who for years cheered on W. as he created The Waste Land in which we now live, but who now harbor no Faith in an American President who admirably seeks to clean up the mess he left behind.

Good riddance to bad habits; like willing yourself to believe there exists an Alternate History where Gore rightfully served his term, and we were spared the horror that was the 00’s.

Good Riddance…

Alas, we can only hope that a few of us are able to exhume a few beautiful moments out the ugly past; maybe some day we’ll be able to look back at this decade and only remember the good things that may have happened.

Somehow maybe we can still feel a certain sentimentality that alludes those mired in the muck and heartache; Thus, we have our generation's Auld Lang Syne, Green Day's ironic ode to days gone by, Good Riddance:

So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while

And in the end, one can’t help but wonder if there’s no where else for us to go but up; as John Lennon’s famous adjunct to McCartney’s optimism so rightly stated (in brackets):

I've got to admit it's getting better
A little better all the time (It can't get no worse)

Untitled Poem

He imagines he is young again,
running, running, through a water path,

dripping fingers of sap;  
he fears he has lost something since:

a pocket, a penny, a space, a sense.

He says, “I can now be a seed unseen by sin,

where no anger has cut me, 
no monsters can awaken me.”

Catch Up!

Catch Up!

Inglourious Basterds on DVD:

Inglourious Basterds is an embarrassment of riches; providing the viewer with countless scenes of action and drama, spiked with black humor, all equally compelling; perfectly balancing bloody, red meat action sequences with rich, full-bodied, red wine conversation pieces.

Last but not least, there's Lt. Aldo Raines, leader of The Basterds, played by Brad Pitt channeling Warren Oates, possibly channeling Quentin Tarantino, as he delivers the triumphant last line of dialogue (and sure-fire conversation starter): This may well be my masterpiece.

Read more at Suite101: Quentin Tarantino's Conversation Pieces: The Auteur’s Much Talked About Work – Including Inglourious Basterds  
My Latest Poetry Essay:

After the imagist movement became the modernist movement, William Carlos Williams focused his art on the things that mattered to him personally, like human compassion for the weak and suffering. And as both a man of science and of art, his poetry reflected a view of the natural world at once beautiful and fruitful, and cruel and harsh.

Read more at Suite101: William Carlos Williams – Two Winter Poems: Blizzard - Winter Trees

Our Winter Wardrobe (a poem)

Our winter wardrobe deteriorates

before our very eyes

leaves leave

our lonesome lives longing

dissembled in a cloak,

a decoration, a disguise

of tattered strings

unraveling

the season breathes,

our hearts drain,

our lungs unair

The Cove, World's Greatest Dad, and Bowie

I watched two excellent films on DVD over the weekend, The Cove and World's Greatest Dad. The two films have absolutely nothing in common.

The Cove is a documentary about a heroic band of scientists and naturalists who risk life and limb attempting to expose the exploitation of dolphins in a small fishing village in Japan. The film is beautiful and tragic, and compelling. The Cove is the rare film that will make you want to do something, to save these dolphins.



World's Greatest Dad is a dark comedy about a writer (and of course, English teacher) whose teenage son is a bit odd, a bit dumb, and (of course) a lot horny, all traits that will lead the boy to some kind of trouble; and when tragedy befalls the writer/English teacher, he is presented with a once in a lifetime chance to fulfill his dream, to be a respected, published author; only snag is, he'll have to exploit his son to get what he wants. World's Greatest Dad is a funny, sick and twisted satire on our sick and twisted society.



Even the most seasoned pop culture aficionado would be hard-pressed to contrive subliminal connections between these two films; but, oddly enough, there is one thing they have in common: David Bowie. Both films play David Bowie songs over the final credits.

World's Greatest Dad ends with Under Pressure, taken from a hilarious scene in the movie where a student attempts to pass off Bowie's lyrics as his own poetry. For the The Cove, no song could be more fitting than Bowie's classic Heroes; it's actually kind of spooky how much the song mirrors the film:

I wish you could swim
Like the dolphins
Like dolphins can swim
Though nothing
Will keep us together
We can beat them
For ever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes
Just for one day

MusicAppreciation

MusicAppreciation


Almost as much as the music itself,
when I was young 
and my father played,
I loved the squeaking sound
his fingers made
as they slid across the strings of his guitar.

To this day I get chills
anytime I hear the squeaking,
baby-bird-like sounds
emanating from strings.

Preamble to Kind of Blue Review

You know, it was said that the great comic W.C. Fields despised music.
 

It was said Fields’ aversion to music was rooted in the religious songs his abusive father sang; that he couldn’t listen to any tune or lyric without reverting back to a fearful and nauseous childhood state.
 

It makes you wonder, how many artists out there actually hate certain forms outside their own personal creative purview (music, film, literature, theater, photography, the fine arts [painting, sculpture, etc.]).
 

And while I don’t have an aversion to any particular art form, if I had to rank my most cherished indulgences, I would probably place music somewhere near the bottom.
 

Again, it’s not that I don’t like music, I just get bored with music.  I will really dig a particular piece of music, or a band, or singer, for a few weeks, until I get sick of it; very much like eating too much candy or cake; and I will more than likely never listen to that music again.
 

I will often go for weeks without listening to music (intentionally listening that is).  But, if I had to go a day without reading literature, or watching a film, I would probably go into convulsions.  And while I don’t think there’s a deep, dark reason behind why I feel the way I feel about music, a la W.C. Fields, I often wonder why I don’t have that emotional devotion to music that many people do.
 

The fact is there is only one album that has ever truly meant anything to me, and that’s Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue.  It’s the only album that still stirs me every time I hear it; and I’ve probably heard it hundreds of times over the years.

Thirst

Thirst

Is Sang-hyun's initial attraction to the troubled Tae-ju born of a priest's empathetic want to heal or a vampire's lust for blood? The answer lies somewhere in between, as evidenced by the priest's habit to feed on the life-blood of Christian confessors consumed by suicidal tendencies.

Once Sang-hyun and Tae-ju's passionate longing for one another is consummated through blood and sex, Thirst transcends the conventional horror film and becomes an exquisitely rendered love story; daring to flirt with scandalous notions of sadomasochism and animal desire.

Read more: http://asian-films.suite101.com/article.cfm/thirst_dvd_review#ixzz0X5TmZoSv

Eating Poetry

My latest piece for Suite 101...

Eating Poetry and The Invention of Cuisine
Poems by Mark Strand and Carol Muske-Dukes

Eating Poetry leads the reader down a mysterious literary digestive tract, while The Invention of Cuisine views a plate of food as a palate, full of primitive imaginings.


From the opening stanza, Mark Strand's Eating Poetry sets a surreal ambiance around an insatiable desire for words, literally and figuratively.


And if the job of an artist is to provide their patrons with a bold new perspective by which to view things, then poet Carol Muske-Dukes fulfills such promise with The Invention of Cuisine.


Read more: http://poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/eating_poetry_and_the_invention_of_cuisine#ixzz0WzOtseS5

Faded

Here is a gorgeous photograph by my brother, C. Charles Wood

"Faded"

Naked

Here is a poem I wrote once upon a time...

Naked,
the cold blood of the ocean
swallows her.
Unafraid of the life within,
she begins.

My Food, Inc. Review

Many complain that muckraking documentaries can be detrimental; while exposing serious and pressing concerns, films like Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story and Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth, offer little hope; and often leave the viewer with a sense of impotence and powerlessness.


This is not the case with Food, Inc.

Read more: http://documentary-dvds.suite101.com/article.cfm/food_inc_dvd_review#ixzz0VwA5GoYB

Took away the shopping cart, and put up a politician...

This crazy old bitty used to come in my video store in Boone, NC!  Geesh, what a frickin' nut-bag!  I swear, if you replace the podium with a shopping cart, you'd have a senile old fart ranting and raving at the moon...



  

Whatever Works on DVD

Woody Allen and Larry David=Dream Team: Whatever Works DVD; my review:

Whatever Works is Woody Allen's starkest comedy since Deconstructing Harry (1997), and one of his best in over a decade; thanks to another sharp turn by Larry David.

Read more: http://comic-films.suite101.com/article.cfm/whatever_works_2009#ixzz0V9giZANK

Mussolini is Dead?

While rummaging through my old poetry, I found this little snippet:

Mussolini is Dead,
Living in California,
Alone.

I have absolutely no idea what it means, but I kinda like it.

Tim Russert, Bill Clinton, Dick Cheney, and President Gore

As sad as it was for Russert's family to suffer his early demise, the fact remains, Tim Russert was a hack. He carried water for the Right during the Clinton years, and he played footsie with Dick Cheney under the table at Meet the Press, while the VP bullshitted America into war. Joan Walsh wraps up her review of the book, The Clinton Tapes, with some sad and disturbing insights. Parenthetically, does anyone else ever play the "What if..." game? How much of the horrific crap that's happened in the last 10 years would we have avoided if Gore had been President? What would that alternate universe look like?

"When Tim Russert mocked Bill Clinton -- in song" by Joan Walsh

Working, Bored and Naked, waiting for The Graveyard

Now, how does this work again?  How do you blog?  It's been so long since I simply wrote about myself, and how I'm doing, what I'm doing, I almost forgot.

I am currently trying to nail down a job that will hopefully ease my transition from struggling small business owner back to regular 9 to 5 employee, receiving a consistent paycheck.

I am editing and revising three poems I hope to have ready for submission, to an upstart arts magazine; deadline Nov. 1st.

I am totally enchanted by this new HBO series, Bored to Death; created and written by the perversely funny essayist *Jonathan Ames:



I read Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby (one of my favorite postmodern-romantic novelists).  I liked it.  Very Anne Tylerish (my other favorite semi-romantic novelist).  Not as great as About A Boy and How To Be Good, but, still quite lovely:

I am reading *Jonathan Ames collection of essays entitled I Love You More Than You Know, patiently waiting for my daughter to finish Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, so I can read it before Halloween:

Saving President Obama's Nobel

In reacting to the news this morning that he had won the Nobel Peace Prize, the President struck a note of humility and recognized that the award was a nod to a vision of what is to come:



What did Tom Hanks say at the end of Saving Private Ryan?  "...earn this... earn it."

Mr. Obama, tear down this wall!

Mr. Obama, tear down this wall!

I know.  It may be a bit ironic that I chose to insinuate a connection between President Obama and Gorbachev, given the right's ignorant refrain of "Obama's a communist".  But, I thought Reagan's line a good one to reuse for the monolithic monster that is the corporate health care system currently dividing the haves from the have-nots.

WellPoint Cuts Workers' Health Insurance Benefits by Rachel Weiner

The Politics of Spite by Paul Krugman

Great piece by Paul Krugman, reminiscent of something I posted earlier:

The Politics of Spite by Paul Krugman

Repost: Conservatives Revel In America's Olympic Defeat

Now we know. When America loses, Republicans win. That explains so much: Vietnam (Nixon wins), Iran Hostage Crisis (Reagan wins), Iraq, Katrina, 9-11 (Bush wins). When the Bushies were running around claiming liberals wanted America to fail in Ira...q, they were actually the ones secretly hoping for failure. If they can only devise a few more devastating defeats to the American psyche before next years elections, the sky's the limit!

Conservatives Revel In America's Olympic Defeat
by Rachel Slajda

My latest Suite 101 Stuff

Writing Jobs at Suite101

Latest Articles by Martin G. Wood

Why can't writers be rock stars?

 Excerpt from my review of Gonzo - The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson:

Why can’t writers be rock stars?

A cavalcade of celebrities: writers, actors, politicians; and non-celebrities: family and friends, help Depp tell the story of how this Kentucky hick (as Thompson was known to refer to himself) raised himself out of obscurity; as a young kid with ambition to a beat sports writer to a muck-racking political journalist, to ultimately becoming the most famous writer in America; or as Hunter Thompson once queried, Why can’t writers be rock stars?

It is said early on that Mr. Thompson would sit for hours at his typewriter and copy word for word his favorite novel, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, over and over again, until he was able to thoroughly understand the way in which a genuine craftsman constructed a great piece of writing.

Read more: http://documentaryfilms.suite101.com/article.cfm/gonzo_film_review_of_alex_gibneys_documentary#ixzz0SGC0qRWi

Cronenberg and Reprise

David Cronenberg's History of Violence
A Consideration of the Brooding Director's Psycho-Sexual Evolution

Read more: http://film-directors.suite101.com/article.cfm/david_cronenbergs_history_of_violence#ixzz0SEqHnqQK

Reprise (2006)
Review of the Literate and Moving Norwegian Film

Co-written and directed by Joachim Trier, Reprise is an insightful film about the writer's life, and the compromises an artist makes for love and friendship.

Read more: http://european-films.suite101.com/article.cfm/reprise_2006#ixzz0SEqsJmSJ

Prick Up Your Ears

Prick Up Your Ears by John Lahr

The Biography of Joe Orton

John Lahr's 1978 biography tells the wildly entertaining and compelling story of the incomparable 1960's British playwright Joe Orton, who was murdered at the age of 34.

It’s hard to imagine anything more tragic than an artist struck down in the prime of their life, just as they are about to fulfill their greatest potential. And when the tragic story is told as brilliantly as John Lahr’s Prick Up Your Ears, the impact is all the more powerful.

Read more: http://biographiesmemoirs.suite101.com/article.cfm/prick_up_your_ears_by_john_lahr#ixzz0RyxVIN7S

The Films of David Gordon Green

The Films of David Gordon Green
Part 1:
http://indie-film-actors-directors.suite101.com/article.cfm/the_films_of_david_gordon_green_part_1
Part 2:
http://indie-film-actors-directors.suite101.com/article.cfm/the_films_of_david_gordon_green_part_2

Autumn Sonata

Ingmar Bergman wrote and directed Autumn Sonata, and as is implicit in the title, the film establishes a tone of somber reflection, on life, loss, and regret.
In one of the more powerful scenes in Autumn Sonata, Bergman asks the viewer to study the faces of Charlotte and Eva, as they each take turns playing Chopin for one another; and as each one plays, Bergman focuses on the face of the listener; leaving their respective reactions open to interpretation.
And as Charlotte explains to Eva (and Eva takes as lecture), Chopin's music dealt with pain and suffering through beauty and longing expressions, but, was never sentimental (which could also describe Ingmar Bergman and Autumn Sonata precisely).
Read more: http://foreignfilms.suite101.com/article.cfm/autumn_sonata_1978_film_by_ingmar_bergman#ixzz0RlSUMBR4

The Moon and D.H. Lawrence

The moon's gravitational pull upon the earth and all its inhabitants, has long held a magnetic allure; poets and philosophers, and the spiritually-inclined, look to the moon for answers, to the emotional and psychological tremblings that trouble the soul; which falls right in line with D.H. Lawrence's raison d'etre; as an artist consumed by emotional, physical, and spiritual connectivity; all encompassed in the moon.




Read more: http://poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/dh_lawrence_two_moon_poems#ixzz0RhjdcLSu

Poe Poems on Death and Dying

The Conqueror Worm and "Alone" are two of the more thoughtful-provoking poems by the Godfather of Goth, Edgar Allan Poe.

Both poems confront the inescapable specter of death; a specter that haunts the human mind, body and soul, every day up to and including the day (or night) it arrives to claim another victim.

Read more: http://american-poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/edgar_allan_poe_two_poems_on_death_and_dying#ixzz0RVSCfRQY

Alice, in a boat beneath a sunny sky

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky by Lewis Carroll
A Poem from Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There

A Boat beneath a Sunny Sky is a stirring poem, especially when read unencumbered by serendipitous subtext (though Lewis Carroll makes such inclinations unavoidable).

Read more: http://poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/a_boat_beneath_a_sunny_sky_by_lewis_carroll

I want to believe...

I want to believe the best of my fellow Americans; I really do; But...

Charles Darwin film 'too controversial for religious America'


A British film about Charles Darwin has failed to find a US distributor because his theory of evolution is too controversial for American audiences, according to its producer.

US distributors have resolutely passed on a film which will prove hugely divisive in a country where, according to a Gallup poll conducted in February, only 39 per cent of Americans believe in the theory of evolution.


Read the entire article: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/6173399/Charles-Darwin-film-too-controversial-for-religious-America.html

Gretel in Darkness

My latest poetry piece covers one of my favorite poems, Gretel in Darkness...


Louise Glück delves into her German roots to re-imagine the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel, in the aftermath; told from the perspective of Gretel; as a lonely, emotionally fragile young woman, haunted by memories of her violent near-death experience with her brother

Read more: http://american-poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/louise_gluck_two_poems#ixzz0Qw4mNCSY

Woe is me! President Obama spoke to school children!

Oh, woe is me!  My 10-year-old daughter went to school this morning as a bright, talented, and independent-minded honor student.  But, what am I to do now?  When I picked my daughter up from school, she had become a different person; physically, she looks the same, but, her eyes are glassy and cold; her personality, sapped of energy and life.  When my daughter speaks, she speaks in monotone, emotionless newspeak.  Oh, why oh why didn't we listen to the right-wingers running through the streets like Kevin McCarthy from Invasion  of the Body Snatchers, warning us that the President's speech to the school children of America would do irreparable damage.  And now, it's too late.  Goddamit!  It's too late!  

I Cried Over Beautiful Things...

The following four poems by the great American poet Carl Sandburg, come tied together by the autumnal equinox, but also compliment one another in more subtle ways.

I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts...

Read more: Carl Sandburg – Four Autumn Poems 

Plan 9 From Outer Space: Magic-Cinema-Elixir

Perhaps, The Amazing Criswell truly did possess powers beyond our understanding, when he tilted his soft-serve-styled quaff in our direction, and pierced the screen and time ad infinitum with his eyes of slate-gray, and stated:

Greetings, my friend. We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives. And remember my friend, future events such as these will affect you in the future. You are interested in the unknown... the mysterious. The unexplainable…

And we all answer in unison, Yes!

Yes, Criswell, yes, we are interested in the future, for this is where are going to spend the rest of our lives, watching Plan 9 From Outer Space; whenever we're down or feeling defeated; whenever our troubles seem insurmountable; like some kind of magic-cinema-elixir, Plan 9 From Outer Space has mysterious powers to soothe the soul, and make everything all better.

Godzilla in Mexico

Godzilla in Mexico tells an apocalyptic tale, as experienced by a father and son:

Listen carefully, my son: bombs were falling
over Mexico City...


Some modern readers may find the poem reminiscent of Cormac McCarthy's novel The Road (or vice versa), but, uniquely crafted in Bolaño's voice and tone; and not nearly as bleak. Bolaño writes with a human touch, a child's oblivion:

You'd just finished eating and were watching
cartoons on TV.

Read more: Godzilla in Mexico by Roberto Bolano 

Between Synecdoche and Happy, Let The Right One In

Between Synecdoche and Happy, Let The Right One In
Charlie Kaufman, like all students of cinema, surely studied the great works of Sweden's Ingmar Bergman, a director who made melancholy fashionable, and nihilism hip. The sad thing is, Bergman infused much of his work with very sharp, black humor; only most of us either overlooked it, or refused to acknowledge it.
Charlie Kaufman definitely acknowledges the need for humor, and the impact such a contrasting element can lend to the bleakest of scenarios, as found in all his previous works, but lost in Synecdoche.

Read the entire article:Between Synecdoche and Happy, Let the Right One In by M.G. Wood at Orato.com

Cut to the Quick

I'm old enough to remember the days when it would take weeks, even months before a writer received a rejection slip. Now, we're rejected within hours. I guess we should be thankful; the net has lessened the writer's delusory wait time.

This May Well Be My Masterpiece

Quentin Tarantino's Conversation Pieces

The Auteur’s Much Talked About Work – Including Inglourious Basterds

Quentin Tarantino is the modern master of the conversation piece; never failing to provide audiences with something to talk about; through keen and provocative dialogue.

Ever since Quentin Tarantino burst upon the cinema scene in 1992 with Reservoir Dogs, there has been much conversation among critics, about the innovative filmmaker’s work; in particular, his use of stylized violence, and non-linear storytelling.

But, what fans talk about most when they talk about their favorite Quentin Tarantino film, is not about what a character did, but about what a character said.

Read more: http://film-directors.suite101.com/article.cfm/quentin_tarantinos_conversation_pieces#ixzz0PQtuyIkt

The Art of the Conversation Piece

In advance of my forthcoming consideration of Quentin Tarantino's films as conversation pieces (including Inglourious Basterds), I bring you the opening section, about the art of the conversation piece, removed from the final product at the suggestion of my editor.

"That’s an interesting conversation piece" is a common expression, often used when speaking about an inanimate object; an inanimate object with an unusual history, or back story.  But, the origin of the term, conversation piece, actually dates back to the seventeenth century, when artists expanded the scope of portrait painting, by depicting several people gathered together in conversation (usually in a pastoral setting).  17th century art patrons must surely have felt inspired by the portraits; letting their imaginations run wild; examining the settings and locations; studying the people who populate them; and wondering what they're talking about.  In turn, the art of the conversation piece undoubtedly sparked actual conversation; leading those inspired and moved by the portraits to seek out fellow art patrons, as well as family and friends; to talk about these works of art; to carry on in-depth conversations about the paintings they saw, paintings of conversations.

Love and Squalor in Gus Van Sant's Transient Portland

Love and Squalor in Gus Van Sant's Transient Portland (originally posted on American Vulture)

Walt Curtis is a beat poet from Portland, Oregon with a loyal and dedicated group of followers, ranging from hippies to college students to the more liberal-minded cowboy poets of the Pacific-Northwest, not to mention his fellow street artists who continue to work the sidewalks of Portland.

In 1977 Curtis published MALA NOCHE: AND OTHER "Illegal" ADVENTURES, a colorful collection of vignettes about friends and lovers from the streets. The centerpiece of the collection, MALA NOCHE, focuses on Mr. Curtis’s own ill-fated love affair with a Mexican migrant worker.

In 1984, a young man named Gus Van Sant was living and working in and around Portland, dreaming of being a filmmaker. Fully entrenched within the underground art scene, Van Sant was already familiar with the legendary street poet Walt Curtis when he read MALA NOCHE.

Gus Van Sant had no way of knowing that over twenty years later his ragged black and white film of Walt Curtis’ story would be considered a landmark in gay cinema and a template for his most intimate and personal works DRUGSTORE COWBOY (1989) and MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO (1991).

In the film MALA NOCHE, Walt works as a clerk in a liquor store, serving mostly transients and drunks, and the assorted odds and ends living on the street, when Johnny walks in. Johnny is a tall, dark and handsome James Dean-like character who likes to brood and run his fingers through his long hair while waiting to be noticed.

Walt tells us in narration that he is instantly attracted to the young Johnny and sets off to find a way to get closer. Walt makes a cringe-inducing attempt at paying Johnny $15 to sleep with him, only to be rejected. After repeated attempts, it becomes clear that either Johnny is not gay or Johnny is simply not interested. 

Alas, Walt does sleep with Pepper, Johnny’s slightly more adept and amiable friend. The sex scenes are brilliantly choreographed, with very little movement, letting the light and shadow shape and control the action; Van Sant would later frame a similar sex scene in MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO with the actors positioning themselves in different still poses.

And then one day, Johnny is gone. In their desperate attempt to find Johnny, Walt and Pepper grow closer; but, tragedy soon strikes, placing an added tint of despair to the already candy apple gray proceedings.

There is nothing romantic about street life, but it is beautiful.

Walt Curtis’s story is rooted in the same garbage strewn and blood stained sidewalks that inspired Charles Bukowski and Hubert Selby. And unless you’re looking for a straight documentary like the classic STREEWISE from 1984 (also shot in the Pacific Northwest), Van Sant’s down and dirty cinema-verite depiction of a life less lovely, shot for $25,000, is the sincerest piece of art found on film.

The Klosterman Dilemma

The Klosterman Dilemma

Warning: The following piece includes graphic depictions of self-delusion and narcissism. If for any reason, you feel yourself becoming queasy or light-headed, please cover your eyes immediately, and contact your nearest library or bookstore for instructions on how to cleanse your literary soul. Okay, I am finally reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman. Are ya happy, now? After years of avoiding Chuck Klosterman, I succumbed; my change of heart came about partly because I saw an interview with the man himself, and discovered he wasn't nearly as obnoxious as the über-hip, too-cool-for-school Gen-Xer's his work seems to attract like flies at a vegan picnic; and partly because his book, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, just happened to be the last book standing in the empty bookshelves of my local used book store, leaving me no other choice, after I'd spent an hour scouring the aisles, desperately searching for something, anything, other than Klosterman.

Okay, and now I come clean; I've read a bit of Klosterman's book, and I'm big enough to admit that the hipster-doofuses are right; he is a very funny and entertaining writer.

But, this fact does not completely resolve my Klosterman dilemma; because, outside the insufferable prigs that adore him, there exists a more selfish reason why I avoided Klosterman all these years; and I feel compelled to confess this egoistic truth: I avoided Chuck Klosterman because in my most self-aggrandizing moments (which are few and far between), I feared his brand of pop culture infused social critiques would inadvertently influence my own work; believing his work to be so sinewy and clever, as to seep into the subconscious mind of any weak-willed and vulnerable writer who dare open themselves up to Klosteman's power. But, alas, the prospect of having my writing irreversibly altered is really the least of my concerns; I mean, who would really notice anyway. In actuality, the worst thing to occur as a result of my reading Klosterman is the fact that I have now lost my right to claim plausible deniability. My right to plausibly deny having ever read Klosterman, has kept the dark side of my mind (the left side; the literal side) in check over the years; while enduring the constant refrain:

"Have you read Chuck Klosterman?"

"You should; your writing is a lot like his."

To which I commonly replied, "Yeah, I hear that a lot; but, no, I've never read his stuff." followed by, "I'm more of a Pauline Kael/Lester Bangs kinda guy."

(Cue the crickets)

The K-Fan then says, "Oh yeah, Lester Bangs; that guy was cool; rock critic; 1970's; punk..." and, wait for it..."Pauline who?" Some may read these words and ask why I would invoke the political/legalese term, Plausible Deniability; and the simple answer is: I now fear that when I get the "Have you read Klosterman" question; my paranoid, narcissistic mind will instantly assume the inquisitor is asking because he or she believes me to be an unoriginal hack, a Klosterman wanna be. And even though this horrific assumption could only flower within the mind of someone who has never read my work, or Klosterman's; it won't stop me from harboring delusions of grandeur; or more precisely, delusions of degradation.

David Lynch's Inland Empire: set contrast high, brightness low, adjust color hue.

This is the first of many (rather raggedy) pieces I will be posting, from my old website, American Vulture: By the time we meet Laura Dern, actress, we have already witnessed three free-floating, disconnected scenes: rabbits performing before a live studio audience, complete with laugh track and applause button; a subtitled scene involving two Polish criminal types; a fuzzy prostitute sitting and crying at the edge of her bed, after performing her first job, before becoming temporarily distracted by the appearance of the aforementioned Rabbit sitcom on TV. Back to Laura Dern, actress; We learn from the first script walk-through with the director, producer and co-star, that the film they are beginning is a re-make of a Polish film that may have been cursed; due to the fact that both leads were murdered in the original production. Laura Dern rehearses her lines with a Southern accent; soon her accent and her personality will bleed into her “real life”; Dern becomes trapped within her character and her character’s life; all encompassed in a great scene where Ms. Dern literally becomes trapped behind a glass window, unable to be heard or seen; for the window she looks out of is a production set, a façade. (One is reminded, while watching INLAND EMPIRE, of Spalding Gray's SWIMMING TO CAMBODIA; in particular, when Mr. Gray reflects back on several weeks of lounging in the lap of luxury, or as he called it, The Pleasure Prison; Mr. Gray bids farewell one by one to all the hedonistic pleasures he had enjoyed, and concludes, “…I suddenly thought I knew what it was that killed Marilyn Monroe.") (One further wonders if INLAND EMPIRE was inspired in some small way by the death of Jack Nance, Mr. Lynch’s friend and muse, who died under mysterious circumstances, outside a donut shop in 1996.) David lynch continues his mission to create an all-natural, chemical-free, completely organic drug; heightening the senses with audio/visual stimulation; the vulnerable recipient helplessly carried away, to an altered state, as the drug is mainlined directly into the eye sockets. To quote Patrick Bateman quoting Huey Lewis, “I want a new drug, One that won't spill, One that don't cost too much, Or come in a pill”. While partaking in the Drug Cinema is not harmful to your health, it remains clearly fatal to the manufacturers; those actors in particular who spend most of their waking life in costumes and make-up; playing on sets, in reconstructions of places real and imagined; often find themselves unable to make the transition back to the real world; leading to a need for something, to help cope with the unpredictable realities of life. And this may be the key to unlocking INLAND EMPIRE; for David Lynch has produced his first Naturalistic piece of work; INLAND EMPIRE is David Lynch’s HEART OF DARKNESS. I can see my lifetime pilin' up I can see it smashin' into yours It was not an accident at all Open your window up - I hear you laughin' -TALKING HEADS

Sag Harbor

Sag Harbor by Colson Whitehead African American Prep Comes of Age in the Summer of 1985 Colson Whitehead's Sag Harbor is a sentimental, semi-autobiographical remembrance of things past; through the eyes of a young prep in his final summer of innocence. Read more: http://americanfiction.suite101.com/article.cfm/sag_harbor_by_colson_whitehead#ixzz0OVNTHeGd

Killer of Sheep

My review of Charles Burnett's classic independent film: Written, directed, and produced by Charles Burnett, Killer of Sheep is a mesmerizing slice-of-life; a snapshot portrait of the African-American experience in 1970's L.A. Read more: http://independentfilms.suite101.com/article.cfm/killer_of_sheep_classic_indie_film_in_review#ixzz0O2Am95PJ

Why are Foreign Films, Foreign? (my response to a friend)

I wrote the following in response to a friend, who wondered why I separated my favorite films into American and Foreign: It's so funny you should say that: "It's funny how we call them foreign films..."; when I was putting the list together, I kept thinking how strange it is that we in the West refer to films made outside our myopic world-view as Foreign. What must the "foreign" cinema makers think: My film is foreign? To whom? It's another example of our strange and silly need to label everything. But, in my defense, I chose to separate my arbitrary lists, simply because the American films I relate to, do speak to a certain American experience; where as most of the "Foreign" films on my list, initially appealed to me, at least partly, because they depicted a certain exotic and unfamiliar world, separate from my own life experience; which in turn expanded my mind and "soul". Having said that, the films that mean the most to me, like Salaam Bombay!, Small Change, City of God, Fanny and Alexander, and Spirited Away, speak to very specific aspects of my life, regarding childhood pain and loss, which are universal.

Favorite Foreign-Language Films (transient though they may be)

*List of All-Time Favorite Foreign-Language Films (transient though they may be): Click on each particular title to learn more about the film. 1. Salaam Bombay (सलाम बॉम्बे!-1988) 2. Small Change (L'Argent de poche-1976) 3. Fanny and Alexander (Fanny och Alexander-1982) 4. City of God (Cidade de Deus-2002) 5. Spirited Away (Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi-2001) 6. Breathless (À bout de souffle-1960) 7. Wings of Desire (or Sky Over Berlin/Der Himmel über Berlin-1987) 8. La Strada (The Road-1954) 9. Day for Night (or American Night/La Nuit américaine-1973) 10. Volver (to return to a place-2006) * This list is in no way intended represent the "best" or the "greatest" films of all-time; I wouldn't even begin to presume such a thing; rather, these are the films that mean the most to me personally; in many ways these films represent different aspects of who I am, as a writer and as a person.

REDS (a short stream-of-consciousness treatise on why I love this film)

Reds was the first film I saw (at about 16), that truly inspired me. And my admiration and love of the film has only grown over the years, with repeated viewings. Reds and The Accidental Tourist are probably the only two films that I love, that could arguably be labeled "romantic" (maybe The Apartment; though I never found the relationship between Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine romantic, as much as desperately poignant). But, I love Reds because of what the film is romantic about: art and politics. And I love the era in which the film is set: the early 20th Century, when artists and liberals lived lives of passion and glory; one of these artists is actually in the film as a "witness", one of my heroes: Henry Miller. Another of my literary idols, playwright Eugene O 'Neill is brilliantly played by Jack Nicholson. And of course, there's the great Diane Keaton, as a wayward feminist. And one of the best performances ever, by Maureen Stapleton as the rip-roaring muckraker Emma Goldman. And Warren Beatty is amazing in his ability to turn in a great performance as John Reed, while concurrently directing the massive epic of a movie. But, more than anything, I love to watch the characters talk, passionately, about art and politics; and about love and marriage; and sex and commitment; and writing. John Reed was a writer; and as portrayed by Warren Beatty, a writer that could never successfully balance his life as an artist with his politics, ideologically or sexually.

Favorite Films of the 2000's

I am in no way presuming to claim Wonder Boys as the “best” film of the 2000’s; I’m simply throwing it out there for consideration, as “The Best of the Decade” lists begin to roll out in the coming months. These are the films that meant the most to me personally over the past decade (assuming nothing earth-shattering comes out in the next 4 months): 1. Wonder Boys (2000) 2. American Splendor (2003) 3. Lost In Translation (2003) 4. The Squid and The Whale (2005) 5. City of God (2002) 6. Mulholland Drive (2001) 7. Spirited Away (2001) 8. Volver (2006) 9. Bad Santa (2003) 10. No Country For Old Men (2007) *Click on a particular title to learn more about the film.

Republicans Bring The Crazy

I just read an article in my local paper about a group of people who gathered to protest President Obama's health care plan. Thank Jeebus! It's good to know there are people to speak for the lowly, downtrodden insurance companies; I mean, who, other than the million dollar lobbyists that own the Republican opposition (and a few "Blue Dog" Democrats) will stand and defend the good and honorable billion dollar health care industry? Which leads me to wonder, if there is any way we can talk the Republican party into having their national convention three years early. The entertainment value of such a thing would be immeasurable. Just the "birthers" alone would be worth the price of admission to that freak show; and the "tea-baggers", who protest against tax increases on the lowly, downtrodden millionaires and billionaires. It's as if the Republicans said, "You think the loony left fringe element of the Democratic party (or as they like to say in their own precious, corny manner, Democrat party) were crazy in the last 10 years?" "Yeah?" "You wanna get nuts?" "Let's get nuts!" "Move aside hippies, let the pros show you how it's done!"

All-Time Favorite American Films (transient though they may be)

This list is in no way intended represent the "best" or the "greatest" films of all-time; I wouldn't even begin to presume such a thing; rather, these are the films that mean the most to me personally; in many ways these films represent different aspects of who I am, as a writer and as a person. So, without further ado... *List of All-Time Favorite American Films (transient though they may be): 1. REDS (1981) 2. My Dinner With Andre (1981) 3. Husbands and Wives (1992) 4. Paris, Tx (1984) 5. Wonder Boys (2000) 6. The Conversation (1974) 7. Inherit The Wind (1960) 8. The Apartment (1960) 9. Marathon Man (1976) 10. The Accidental Tourist (1988) *Click on each particular title to learn more about the film. Coming soon: All-Time Favorite Foreign Language Films (transient though they may be)

Invisible Ink (a revelation of sorts)

I had a revelation of sorts. I can't hand-write anything substantial. Because, it seems as soon as I commit anything significant to paper, with pen, the passion instantly evaporates, as if written in invisible ink. Which explains why I have a trunk full of notebooks; thousands of hand-written pages; all written with heart-felt intent; some quite good; but, as soon as I attempt to transcribe the words to computer memory, I am overcome with indifference; the words lose all meaning. And this is a revelation of sorts, because while I am only now discovering this fact, I don't really know what I'm to learn from this. I can type, revise, edit, reconstruct, reassemble; write in stream-of-consciousness; create from whole cloth a complete and satisfying piece of work, with a keyboard; but, alas, not with a pen.

The 5 Stages of Creative Grief

The classic Kübler-Ross 5 stages of grief, in dealing with loss and/or tragedy, converted to the 5 stages of creative grief: 1) Denial: After the first blush of relief, at having finally, after great pain, completed another piece of work, the artist convinces himself or herself that what has been created is good and worthy, and not a massive waste of time and energy: “This may be the best work I’ve done yet.” 2) Anger: But, soon realism sets in; as it becomes clear the artist's work will not generate money to pay the bills; nor will it receive the acclaim required to fill the bottomless pit of insecurity and self-doubt at the artist’s core; resentment and anger grows 3) Bargaining: Sell, Sell, Sell. “If I can just get by, I can create something new, and better.” “Maybe, if this work is pushed hard enough; something will break through; maybe, if the work is marketed right; and if it reaches the right people...Maybe, I'll be given more time and freedom to create...Maybe, I will work again.” 4) Depression: Lock away the paint brushes. Shut down the typewriter/computer. Lay down the camera. Vow to never create another piece of work again. It's over. “I'll never dance again.” 5) Acceptance: “Hell, in the grand scheme of things, none of it really matters anyway.” In the end, the artist creates only for their own sense of mortality. “It’s not as if I can really stop myself; and I have nothing better to do with whatever time I may have left on earth.” Rinse and Repeat