Slowly Going Bald
"Look, we're gonna spend half the night driving around the Hills looking for this one party, and you're gonna say it sucks, and we're all gonna leave and we're gonna go look for this other party. But all the parties and all the bars, they all suck. I spend half the night talking to some girl who's looking around the room to see if there's someone who's more important she should be talking to, and it's like I'm supposed to be all happy 'cause she's wearing a backpack."
Monday, October 03, 2005
4 Comments:
I was denied access to the tribute to the power of editing because it was classified as "Sexual Advice."
By 
Aubrey, at
1:09 PM, October 04, 2005
Really? That's weird. The second link is sexual advice.
Anyway, here's the address I was linking to: http://www.ps260.com/molly/SHINING%20FINAL.mov
By Dan Carlson, at
1:55 PM, October 04, 2005
That preview was awesome. It would have been doubly awesome if they had somehow included a shot of Philip Seymour Hoffman reading a letter, grin on his face in a moment of self-discovery, and then looking up into the distance knowing everything was going to be all right between Jack and Danny.
By 
, at
6:24 PM, October 04, 2005
I'm going to recomend to the city of Baytown that we plant more fruit trees. I envision a world where everyone is walking down the street, juicy fruit pulp dripping from every man and woman's chins, greeting each other with a slurpy smile. "How's your peach?" "Fine, and your comquat?" "Devine!"
By Kyle, at
8:43 AM, October 06, 2005
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...a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces....
O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
--Look Homeward, Angel
Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives.
--John Stuart Mill
We have all read in scientific books, and indeed, in all romances, the story of the man who has forgotten his name. This man walks about the streets and can see and appreciate everything; only he cannot remember who he is. Well, every man is that man in the story. Every man has forgotten who he is. One may understand the cosmos, but never the ego; the self is more distant than any star. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God; but thou shalt not know thyself. We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget.
--G.K. Chesterton
We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy.
--August Van Zorn
--Stephen King
Film lovers are sick people.
--Francois Truffaut