Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark followed by The Mosquito Coast

Watch them in this order to revisit what it felt like to realize your father is human.

things we lost to the future

weekend film breakdown

1. The Simpsons movie works best as an extended episode of the series, but with better production values and higher standards of quality.

2. As a modern picture, My Best Fiend: Klaus Kinski suffers only insofar that the physical and emotional intensity Kinski projected on camera and off has been co-opted by the exaggerations of computer imagery. Kinski's giant eyes and looming forehead make even still photographs of the man surreal. Combined with the screams of hatred and the immensely dramatic acts he was capable of, and you have a character so violent and passionate that it seems impossible that such a person was human. At times he seems like a proto-Gollum, and then a corner is turned and you realize that the man is real, his eccentricities deep and human, and his capacity for warmth and hatred genuine. Herzog, on camera, in both archival footage and in footage filmed for this picture, makes the film better, as he does with everything. His calm, confident voice, his stoic and defining physical presence, and his adherence to the "ecstatic vision" make him as compelling and as authoritarian as David Attenborough: the man must be listened to.

3. Dagon is as good a Lovecraft adaptation as I have yet to see. The eponymous monster, shown briefly at the end and then in CGI, is a rather dull and fleeting mix-up of mouths and tentacles, but the sense of fear and confusion is expressed by the protagonist and his companions so well that the low production values barely seem worth commenting on. The fish-people are wisely shown in glimpses, obscured by rain slickers and heavy coats. Seen face-on they instill no more fear than the creatures in any Star Wars film. Seen at strange angles, their limping, vaguely inhuman forms add great dread to what is otherwise a generic "evil cult" picture.

formula for a party

1. one pair short shorts, which you will wear and accompany with knee socks, Vans, and a stupid visor. This idiotic outfit will both endear you to party attendees and give you license to act idiotically.

2. Six or seven happy couples, whom you will wedge yourself between for the sake of having uncomfortable photos taken.

3. 40 empty beer bottles, which you will drunkenly attempt to stomp on with your Vans.

4. one hatchet, which you will get out of the car once you realize you can't break bottles by stomping on them with slip-on skate shoes.

5. At least seven or eight attractive girls. Just because.

Little Miss Sunshine: A Second Take

It wasn't the indie version of "National Lampoon's Vacation". It was a less-sexy version of Rain Man, with Greg Kinnear as a sharkish but unsuccessful Tom Cruise and Alan Arkin and Steve Carell doing a duet version of Dustin Hoffman's autistic savant. Everyone else was just distraction.

Especially the little girl.

Do you hate Red Bull? Do you hate Red Bull-based alcoholic drinks?

Then prepare to vomit all over your neatly-pressed oxford:

V2 vodka is a super-premium vodka from Holland infused with caffeine and taurine. Besides the obvious stupidity of adding caffeine and taurine to vodka, what the fuck does that "super premium" mean? Is that a real distilling term? Or is it like "sushi grade" and "grilled to perfection" - a phrase designed to impress people who can't think critically?

Thanks, candy culture, for ruining one of mankind's greatest beverages.

This is like when McDonald's took the croissant - an impossibly light pastry that, if made skillfully, would feel better in your mouth than a perfect breast - and made the Croissanwich, a gray , dry-yet-greasy, filling-yet-nutritionless breakfast substitute.

Paul Weatherby

In a dream I was him and I'd done something terrible. I ran to the sea, and my grandmother asked me to stop. I took poison in a pill and jumped in near the shore. I floated out with the tide, waiting to die, singing "oh bury me not on the lone prairie/where the wild coyote can howl over me," thinking as I died that every desert dweller wants to return to the water.

http://tinyurl.com/3blhzx

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Hopeful, Denigrative Prediction

A reversal of industrial progress prompted by a shortage of fossil fuels and an unwillingness to pollute meant that fewer flew or even drove. 747s gave way to smaller and slower efficient airplanes barely capable of trans-oceanic flight; which in turn gave way to sailing vessels, directly and conversely mirroring the transportation innovations of the 19^th and 20^th centuries.

Consolidated Notes on the Baltics

Flight

There is no silence in travel. The burr of engines, air filtration devices, and of human shuffling, is present everywhere while we fly. Above the city we can see nothing, so we’ve stopped looking.

Sitting in the airport (Which one? Does it matter?) I have an idea for a thriller involving a serial killer who murders random targets during layovers at airports. A domestic traveler, he is personable enough to gain the friendship of his victims in line, at an airport restaurant, or at a bar. How does he kill? It must be brutal. But how to commit a brutal murder given the miniature surveillance states that are airports, and given the restrictions of the government upon what one may carry during travel? Investigators will assume the killer is a TSA representative or another airline or airport employee – an insider. But it is imperative to the plot that he has found a way to beat the system. Flight security is there to prevent politically motivated mass murders, not psychosis-motivated serial murders.

The arrival in Europe comes quickly. I sleep several hours and listen to music. Jet leg is kept away by careful doses of Atavan. In the seat of the plane I feel as if I have no emotional content: This is a sealed environment, and I want nothing and fear nothing. The arrival is at dawn. I see the sky rising in color in the east and between the horizon and me is a gray low sea. In Amsterdam I meet my companions. One has the drawn features, spotty skin, and large, strong hands of a Joe Coleman painting. The other is a more jovial man.

Latvia
A great anticipation in the hour before we land in Riga: Women in saris pace the aisles holding their children. Dutch stewardesses fold and pour with precise fingers and with smiles that no longer need rehearsal.

The country is more beautiful, more verdant, and more lively than I expect. Latvia is small enough, and close enough to the Baltic Sea, that pelicans roost on telephone poles throughout the whole country. It’s an odd thing to see in an otherwise rural and landlocked area. There are no mountains, no canyons. No wilds except 2^nd- or 3^rd- growth red birch, which grows in alarming quantities.

Daytime is a blur of work: driving, presentations, technical and political discussions. We meet with a government functionary, a gray and shaky man whose habit of keeping his eyes down while he talks neutralizes the physical strength of his build. He doesn’t make eye contact, but he is in command.

There’s little time to sleep in the Baltics. The nights are short and the days are long. It is bright at 10 pm and bright again at 4 am. Dawn comes almost immediately after dusk, the two drawn together like sisters. In the bare rooms of the former Soviet Union, it is cold in winter and hot and humid in summer.

In my hotel before bed I watch the news obsessively, something I never do in the US. Well-appointed hotels abroad are the best location from which to analyze global tragedies and crises. The BBC has someone called a “catastrophe expert” on as a guest, and I wonder if he actually is a catastrophe expert or just something he’s called when on television.

Soviet submarines happily taunted the U.S. Navy by patrolling up and down American coasts. This was simply to remind the U.S. military that they were there and that they had brought nuclear missiles (SSBMs). After 1990, the billions invested in nuclear-powered and nuclear-capable submarines were laid to rust in Murmansk. A single Russian sailor visits this shipyard a few times a year, carrying a dosimeter. The readings don’t change – they are high. He can only go a few times before being rotated to another position – the background levels of radiation are too high to bear.

Tallinn
The drive across the Estonian border is tense. We joke as we approach it, but everyone becomes very quiet as we get closer to the checkpoint. My traveling companions tell stories of being denied entrance or of being held at the border for hours, but in a post-Soviet world it’s hard to take it seriously. There are a few moments of limbo as the guard takes our passports en masse, but once he returns them we enter.

Ethnic Estonians and ethnic Russians rioted throughout the streets of the Tallinn Old Town in May 2007. The windows are still broken.

At 2 am, Russian prostitutes sit meditatively in the lobby bar of the Tallinn Radisson SAS.

Estonia is losing population to attrition, emigration, and a decreasing birth rate. Today, there are around a million in Estonia (half of that in the capitol of Tallinn). Several years ago it was as low as nine hundred thousand. A million people are very little: the country and the people’s existence are threatened by the same thing Native American groups face: the extinction of their culture.

Flight
On the KLM 747 home, a flight attendant walks down the aisle with a small box. She brings heated, scented damp paper towels to every one of its passengers, using a set of small metal tongs to keep her hands dry. This airplane seats several hundred, meaning there are several hundred wet towels kept onboard. These towels required fuel (to both transport and heat), water, and wood pulp, as well as the miscellaneous amounts of chemicals that scent them. I am tempted to call these miscellaneous chemicals trivial but that would contradict my point: nothing that we consume today is trivial.

Airline meals organized into transatlantic bento boxes.

Above the world I am 3000 meters from anything besides the violence of passengers or a failure of technology. Air flight is a microcosm of modern Western life: threats are due to human violence or to mechanical error. Emotions and relationships don’t matter, for our seats are defined and our food and drink brought to us by tall competent women.

Zia Tattoos

I was convinced that this was a good idea at one point. However, even though the zia does have some meaning behind it (as a symbol of the state and of Native American identity), I think now that zia tattoos must now be relegated to that same corner of questionable taste as tattoos of the Nike swoosh and tattoos of the yin-yang symbol.

I drink a great deal

It's more comfortable for me to be drunk in the evenings and hungover in the day than not.

Is it because I'm lonely and bored and depressed? Is it because I idolized drug addicts (their eccentricity and creativity, not their addictions) during my formative years?

Is it because I'm a naturally self-destructive person who must frequently hurt himself, somehow, in some manner? Are my hangovers the same as the walls I used to punch?

Because I can no longer bear to sit quietly and alone?

The answer to these and related questions is, of course, "Yes".

Now that we've agreed on causality, can we focus now on what the difference is between the person I am who drinks and the person I am who can stay sober?

REPURPOSED BRANDNAME

Kix - communist hicks

a bloody mary

is just a cup of cold, alcoholic soup

for later

	NEWS
	Minnesota declaration: truth and fact in documentary cinema "LESSONS OF DARKNESS" 1. By dint of declaration the so-called Cinema Verité is devoid of verité. It reaches a merely superficial truth, the truth of accountants. 2. One well-known representative of Cinema Verité declared publicly that truth can be easily found by taking a camera and trying to be honest. He resembles the night watchman at the Supreme Court who resents the amount of written law and legal procedures. "For me," he says, "there should be only one single law: the bad guys should go to jail." Unfortunately, he is part right, for most of the many, much of the time. 3. Cinema Verité confounds fact and truth, and thus plows only stones. And yet, facts sometimes have a strange and bizarre power that makes their inherent truth seem unbelievable. 4. Fact creates norms, and truth illumination. 5. There are deeper strata of truth in cinema, and there is such a thing as poetic, ecstatic truth. It is mysterious and elusive, and can be reached only through fabrication and imagination and stylization. 6. Filmmakers of Cinema Verité resemble tourists who take pictures amid ancient ruins of facts. 7. Tourism is sin, and travel on foot virtue. 8. Each year at springtime scores of people on snowmobiles crash through the melting ice on the lakes of Minnesota and drown. Pressure is mounting on the new governor to pass a protective law. He, the former wrestler and bodyguard, has the only sage answer to this: "You can´t legislate stupidity." 9. The gauntlet is hereby thrown down. 10. The moon is dull. Mother Nature doesn´t call, doesn´t speak to you, although a glacier eventually farts. And don´t you listen to the Song of Life. 11. We ought to be grateful that the Universe out there knows no smile. 12. Life in the oceans must be sheer hell. A vast, merciless hell of permanent and immediate danger. So much of a hell that during evolution some species - including man - crawled, fled onto some small continents of solid land, where the Lessons of Darkness continue. Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, Minnesota April 30, 1999 Werner Herzog

the iphone is the H2 of cellular telephones

same goddamn thing.









































Same goddamn thing.

I'd put my hand back there and feel them moving. I thought it was blood coursing through my head,' said Dallas, of Carbondale.

Mother: Drunk When She Microwaved Baby

"the rapture is not an exit strategy"

that is such bullshit don't you think

sometimes you don't even pause to fire a warning shot

and sometimes you can't get past the question "who do you punch first?"

Paul Banks wishes he was JG Ballard

the allegory of the boots baby

rl: im wearing a kid pants
leo: capris
rl: no, like pants a baby wears, extra room for diapers
leo: babies wear small woolen boots
rl: yeah like they're ever hiking in the siberian wild
rl: a baby in boots is like a soccer mom in an Escalade

hmmmm

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British forces have denied rumours that they released a plague of ferocious badgers into the Iraqi city of Basra.

"It is the size of a dog but his head is like a monkey."

Titan-II missiles navigate just like Indiana Jones

The light of Polaris, the North Star, filtered down through the Arizona desert using a system of mirrors and prisms, tells the biggest intercontinental nuclear missile ever manufactured by the US military Where To Go.

ideas for later

Baby War

Alcoholists Anonymous (drinkers' club, including tokens and meetings)

Armored Sloths

What was the height of the arroyo that Jesse jumped into?

An abusive relationship with a cartoon character: Roger Rabbit + wife beating.

it's at the door

they're gonna get in

POOL DRAIN SUCKS OUT SIX YEAR OLD GIRL'S INTESTINES

my cheek hurts and my glasses are bent

This means that I got slapped last night.

bruja

reminders

It's supposed to be automatic but actually you have to press this button.


morgellon's

Curtis Ebbesmeyer has been tracking the floating plastic ducks around the world's oceans