And hello Everyone!!!
It's good to have you. get comfy. Imagine we're in the same room, imagine I'm handing you a cup of coffee, or a beer, or cigarette.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Wake now, rise and take rightful claim to this new and adventurous future. Where laws and standard crumble and our feet are burnt black while we stumble on it’s ashes.
Hells bells and awful tells the wide world of dirt is a-blazin. Heavy Hands on the editing table. Two new films in pre-production, The Wild Introduction book on tape (I know! Who wasnt asking for that?) and a super secret project that’ll rear it’s head a month from now!
Feelin free, feelin free.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
you can't know this about joe: he quit. never another smoke, not so long as he lives, not another pack, not a drag. he's done. we can't come out and tell you that about joe, but you would know that if you'd spent time with the guy. go a little deeper into something you really can't know about him: he was a stress smoker. you don't know either of these things, or let's say you do, but not because i just told you. you just knew, but there were all other kinds of things in your mind that clouded those facts (political elections, a ruined pair of pants, an argument over methods of bird-watching, a weak orgasm, guilt) and kept them from the from the front of your mind.
now you know so much that you don't know anything at all. this song plays all around your head. you drift down a deserted city street at night. it's warm, clear sky, no one in sight, you're drifting right down the center lane. drifting, drifting, drifting. it's not a nice neighborhood, but its not run down. a gas station, a concert hall, a women's health clinic, an italian restaurant, all closed but the gas station, nothing over three stories high. people are alive in the city, but they're all just out of sight. a car comes the other way and you whip around to follow it with your eyes as it passes. you're in the car with joe. he stops at a blurry red light. he looks out his window and he lights a cigarette. if i didn't have to tell you about him, it would have been a beautiful moment.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
It's about confrontation through escape. It's about scaring your mind into another placer. Horror is a very potent form of fantasy. You confront images of life but a masquerade of it. There is an art to the horror movie or the haunted house, to black metal, to Halloween costumes, the jack-o-lantern. It reminds you of the world's borders. The darkness, the impossible does. And then we see the world we live in from a different vantage as if we looked into the black night hard enough and saw that backs of our own heads. We're all frightened, at least most of us are, of death and a lot else. Horror as an art is escapism but it's an escape to our fears, which is very different than other kinds of fantasy.
We're all scared and many of us don't know what we're scared of, the things we can't quite think about, the dreams we can't remember. In the Halloween movie credits, Michael Meyers is referred to as "The Shape." He's as bland a villain as there can be. Pure white mask, no motive, no weakness, no qualities. He just kills. He is an empty shape, a container for our dread. Anxiety, depression, guilt, loneliness, the things that lay in a ragged pile at the dim end of the hallway, are given names and faces in horror. Freddy, Michael Meyers, Dracula, Bob.
I'm tempted to write off Halloween celebrations like trick or treating and getting drunk in skimpy outfits as some kind of perversion of Halloween, but both actually maintain the same idea that I like about Halloween. Going to a bar with zombies and nurses and superheroes names what's unreal in the world. Halloween is the signpost at the border of the Twilight Zone, making realit that much more acute when it's woken up to in the morning.