[Hi there Emma Jean]
After scanning its face again and again,
I began to scale it, picking my holds
With intense caution. About half-way
To the top, I was suddenly brought to
A dead stop, with arms outspread
Clinging close to the face of the rock
Unable to move hand or foot
Either up or down. My doom
Appeared fixed. I MUST fall.
There would be a moment of
Bewilderment, and then,
A lifeless rumble down the cliff
To the glacier below.
My mind seemed to fill with a
Stifling smoke. This terrible eclipse
Lasted only a moment, when life blazed
Forth again with preternatural clearness.
I seemed suddenly to become possessed
Of a new sense. My trembling muscles
Became firm again, every rift and flaw in
The rock was seen as through a microscope,
My limbs moved with a positiveness and precision
With which I seemed to have
Nothing at all to do.
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
reach my hands and play with pebbles of
destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
in the universe.
Comments on this entry are closed.
Stop living in my head! I just watched Pulp Fiction for the first time, then opened AD and here ya go.
I still have not seen it but wish I had. Maybe I will someday. I find it almost impossible to sit still for 2 hours. In the rare times my wife and I watch a movie at home (the last one, maybe a month ago, was the old Grapes of Wrath) we break it into 2 parts (viewed during 2 suppers) cause I just can’t stand being stationary any longer than that.
Living in your head is Gerard’s day job.
Travolta’s solo dance routine from “Saturday Night Fever” has my vote.
My curmudgeonly comment for this Saturday is;
I have never understood the appeal of that movie. Can not stand the Scientology dope, Travolta….as well as most of the idiots that are involved with the Hollywood set.
I am not a big ballet aficionado, though I did work for the Pacific Northwest Ballet, the Seattle Opera Company and the Seattle Symphony. That goofy shit they are doing in the flick ain’t ballet.
Agreed. Not a fan of Tarantino’s films: vulgar, ultra violent and disturbing. He himself knows he has “issues”.
I liked that “Saturday Night Fever” solo because I copied it to perform for my dance class in college at Portland Community College in 1978. I did it to impress the dance instructor. It worked. She was a good girl.
I found Dusk to Dawn tolerable, especially the part where Selma Hayek did her thing. Dawgeez…
I had heard of Selma Hayek, but had never seen a picture of her. Signed into YouTube to see that dance, and…damn. Ok then.
Watched only a few seconds of the actual dance. But still…
Sure, Travolta can dance. He’s proved it on a few occasions but the guy is a Scientology homo and no amount of dancing can polish the tarnish off of that burnished image. He’s violent too but that’s another thing.
Thurman, I’ve never connect with her nor would I desire to. She’s just too fvckin’ weird.
Is there anyone connected to Tarantino who is not weird and disturbing? As in really, really weird and disturbing?
I remember seeing “Reservoir Dogs” many moons ago. The first five minutes were the oddest, most vulgar and crudest thing I had ever seen. Still are.
Ha! I made it about 7 minutes into that dog of a movie.
Extreme violence and gore for the sake of gore. Vulgarity & obscenity in excess. ….and this is coming from someone (me) that is a regular dropper of F-bombs. Generally depraved story line and bad acting. How do these films draw such an audience?
Wait! I think I have got it.
Because the culture is on the skids. People are lost and not even searching anymore. Just plain lost and thinking everything is fine. It’s intergenerational stupidity.
Dear Kevin in PA:
You ask, “How do these films draw such an audience?” They draw an audience for the same reason that rotting flesh draws flies. Our “culture” is pure Weimar, not even suitable for the most rabid of beasts. Consider: Our “culture” cannot even tell the difference between a man and a woman. Such a nation that believes such things simply begs destruction. Amen.
Out “culture” is not at war with normies, it is at war with God. With Logic. With the Sacred.
I know where I’m putting my money.
“Thurman, I’ve never connect with her nor would I desire to. She’s just too fvckin’ weird.”
The phrase in Liverpool is;
I wouldn’t touch her with yours.
But I’d taste her with your mouth.
Watch it without sound. It is hilarious. Two self-absorbed characters who have zero chemistry on the dance floor, trying to look as if they have a clue about the Twist, and looking completely uncomfortable. It was like seeing Schumer and Colbert gyrating in Central Park. Funny yet disturbing. I’ve never understood the hype over Tarantino’s films. He’s a gross, disturbed man and his films reflect his soul.
Hah! I did the same thing. Very odd and uncomfortable.
“His films reflect his soul.” Well said.
Yada Yada Yada, Chuck Berry is the bomb, got that one on my phone as well.
Chuck Berry? The master. In his real life he was a sexual degenerate and ego maniac, but…Johnny B. Goode!