Thursday, September 17, 2009


don't fish the stick-ups. metaphors are one thing, upgrading one's software is another. open to discussions on practicality. on all levels. oh hai - didn't see you there. i'm here to tell you that in the future, there will be future. he's sleeping it off. this is the common response to problems. i can't because i have to take care of people even more selfish than me. when one is responsible with the symbols, one gets the knowledge, maybe. a boomerang is a better model. leather-bound volumes still make me happy. nothing too different from what has already been invested into. (the devil that i know) biochemistry changes, climate a factor. only four miles from the famous one. still looking for the 60s version. new age means at a fundamental level 'you can heal yourself.' needed a hobby. twenty gets eighty. every industry. dream in which Robert Nozick appeared at a carnival. it was never 'kill mom, marry dad.' the gladness of invisible boats. buenos zebra. even frozen foods go bad. can you not do that, please? its a consequence of the actual ability to walk on both sides. don't lasso the names. don't lasso anything. to stop holding up puppets. more of an adventurous, more of a curious. two prototypes. framing begets more framing. starts reaching across me. turning into a little boy. not waiting for steve. aim high. assumptions don't make an ass - they in fact make nothing. it likely will not be read. a waiter serving empty plates. more dad issues. check the thermostat. gimmicks. he actually didn't care if they got caught, and it matters. how to get the lights to come on.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


Didn't care for Tarantino's new movie, Inglourious Basterds. His shtick is just getting old - all the thoroughly-measured conversations, the lengthy dueling set-ups, the sullen yet determined femme fatales (was Uma Thurman busy?), and then punching the audience in the face. Then the soundtrack steps in to carry us through exterior scenes - ooo was that mariachi horns we just heard sound over the French countryside? Like satellite radio piped through mall speakers, the typical Tarantino soundtrack means to obliviate the non-consumer exterior environment which makes neurotics nervous for its "lack of productivity." Sorry, I don't see spaghetti western in that. It's gotten lost in the translation.

Some critic wrote that Tarantino is a curator today rather than a creator. I would agree. Kill Bill was more inventive, but not by much. The character deaths are becoming more inventive, which is basically the expected track of the horror director. Maybe QT wishes to go off in that direction for a while, since most of his work today I find horrifying rather than curiously-stimulating like his earlier stuff.

There are entertaining details, but even Valkyrie, which I also didn't like, had better details. The ending was a surprise, so I have to give him points for that.

Tarantino started his career with punching his audience in the face and he's basically staying there, still there, fifteen years later. Hence his growing admiration among the spike tv crowd. I thought Brad Pitt was ridiculous in this movie - maybe his worst role ever - and that the gentleman who played the SS officer was good but not outstanding. The best acting was from the blonde gal who played the spy. Rent this movie if you must, but rent it along with something more satisfying like Bullitt with Steve McQueen. That actually draws you in rather than lets you watch a story you already know from a safe distance like a carnival goer.