Quote of the day

[iambiguous]

Jules Feiffer

Christ died for our sins. Dare we make his martyrdom meaningless by not committing them?

And now, Jules?

I used to think I was poor. Then they told me I wasn't poor, I was needy. Then they told me it was self-defeating to think of myself as needy, I was deprived. Then they told me underprivileged was overused, I was disadvantaged. I still don't have a dime, but I have a great vocabulary.

He had a few dimes, I suspect.

She's always been crazy about me but I don't know - I never thought she was very much. But I see the way guys look at her on the street so I guess she must have a pretty great figure. And I see how people gather around her at parties so I guess she must have a really great personality. And I see how hard everybody listens when she talks so I guess she must be extremely intelligent. So I guess I'm in love with her. And I guess I'll marry her. And I'll guess we'll be very happy. Sounds like a good deal.

Someone run this by...Maia?

Satire doesn't stand a chance against reality anymore.

Someone run this by...the Donald?

When I was little, I listened to radio serials, read comic books and went to 'B' movies. When I got a little older I listened to big band swing, read slick magazines and went to 'A' movies. When I got even older I listened to F-M stereo, read literary quarterlies and went to foreign movies. And then the pop-culture movement began. Now I listen to old radio serials, read comic books and go to revivals of 'B' movies. In a society without standards who needs to grow up?

Let's pin down "the standards" here.
While we still can?

I told the doctor I was overtired, anxiety-ridden, compulsively active, constantly depressed, with recurring fits of paranoia. Turns out I'm normal.

Late-capitalism, let's call it.

First, let me state to you, Alfred, and to you, Patricia, that of the 200 marriages that I have performed, all but seven have failed. So the odds are not good. We don't like to admit it, especially at the wedding ceremony, but it's in the back of all our minds, isn't it? How long will it last? We all think that, don't we? We don't like to bring it out in the open, but we all think that. Well, I say, why not bring it out in the open? Why does one decide to marry? Social pressure? Boredom? Loneliness? Sexual appeasement? Love? I won't put any of these reasons down. Each in its own way is adequate. Each is all right. Last year, I married a musician who wanted to get married in order to stop masturbating. Please, don't be startled. I'm not putting him down. That marriage did not work. But the man tried. He is now separated, still masturbating, but he is at peace with himself because he tried society's way. So, you see, it was not a mistake. It turned out all right. Now, just last month, I married a novelist to a painter. Everyone at the wedding ceremony was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug. The drug quickened our mental responses, slowed our physical responses, and the whole ceremony took two days to perform. Never have the words had such meaning. Now, that marriage should last. Still, if it does not, well, that'll be all right. For don't you see, any step that one takes is useful, is positive, has to be positive because it's a part of life. Even the negation of the previously taken step is positive. That too is a part of life. And in this light, and only in this light, should marriage be viewed as a small, single step. If it works, fine. If it fails, fine. Look elsewhere for satisfaction. To more marriages, fine. As many as one wants, fine. To homosexuality? Fine. To drug addiction? I will not put it down. Each of these is an answer for somebody.

And the good news [of course] is that none of what we believe about any of this need go much beyond merely believing it itself.

[iambiguous]

What can I [or anyone else for that matter] say: a very strange and beautiful film.

A man packs his 2 children into a VW Beetle and drives them out into the Australian outback—for a picnic. There he takes shots at them with a revolver, sets the car on fire and puts a bullet in his head. He’s dead. And so out in the middle of nowhere the two kids are on their own. Until they meet an aborigine—a boy on a walkabout.

That’s the whole thing. Only you can’t take your eyes off the screen from start to finish. Or, rather, I couldn’t.

There are folks able to fend for themselves…to survive…“off the land”. And there are those who are not. Most of us cannot. But most of us will never have to.

And then out of the blue these scientists and their weather balloons.

And the elliptical relationship between the white world and the world of the aboriginals. Why did the black boy die? Did he kill himself? Is it related to the dance? My best guess: it revolves around the girl. The dance was a courting ritual. But she did not accept him. In fact, she seemed to view him more as one might a servant.

Or maybe not. It’s just purely conjecture.

Look for Walter Reilly.

Jenny Agutter was embarrassed when doing the scene of her swimming naked in the lake, so as many as possible of the crew were sent away. When shooting was done they returned, stripped naked, and went for a swim.

First cinema film of David Gulpilil. IMDb


Walkabout

Woman on radio: The Ortolan is the name given to a European singing bird. It is extremely rare. When fattened for eating, they are left in dark cardboard boxes, and packets of grain are pressed to a hole in the box, through which a light is shone. The bird picks at the grain in the hope of penetrating through to the light, which he mistakes for the sun. This goes on for several weeks. When it has eaten itself so full that it cannot stand or see, it is drowned in cognac. Gourmets regard it as an exceptional delicacy. You will find vinegar is an acceptable substitute for cognac.

Let's just say the radio is along for the ride.

Woman on radio: Apart from the scientific explanation, the expectation that the world…that is, that human society will someday come to an end leads me to believe that man is more than the complement of root and matter. It is he who imparts dignity to the planet in which he lives, although not receiving importance from it. The idea that man has passed through years of trials, in order that there might be, at last, a perpetual succession of comfortable shopkeepers…
Boy: I was listening.
Girl: We mustn’t waste the batteries.

Especially in the Outback.

Girl [to aboriginal boy]: Water. Drink. We want water to drink. You must understand! Anyone can understand that. We want to drink. I can’t make it any simpler. Water. To drink. The water hole has dried up. Where do they keep the water?

She came to the right guy, let's say.

Man on radio [while Aborigen boy kills and eats a kangaroo he hunted]: The one set of values for “X”… is 4-3 (X-4 ) equal to X-2 (4 -X). Write 24, 48. Seven fours aew 28. Eight fours are 32.
Boy [to the black boy]: I can multiply 84 by 84. I did it yesterday.
Man on radio: Divide 3,894 by 12 minus a third. If your answer is a decimal, what is…

Math and the Outback. New thread?

Man on radio [against the vastness of the outback]: Nothing can ever be created or destroyed…Every man and every woman is a star…What do we know? By the telescope, a faint…

In one ear and out the other. Again.

Girl: I don’t know why you’re telling him all this. He can’t understand. He doesn’t know what a ladder is. I expect we’re the first white people he’s ever seen.

And, as it turned out, the last.

Boy: Why won’t he speak? What’s he dancing for?
Girl: I don’t know.
Boy: Perhaps he’s pleased.
Girl: Why?
Boy: Because we got here at last.

Cue "the road".

Girl: I want to start early in the morning.
Boy: I think he wants to stay here.
Girl: Why should he?
Boy: It’s nice. I think that he wants to stay here for a while. There’s lots of ferns growing out there.
Girl: Anyway, I’ve already decided something. We’re going on our own tomorrow.
Boy: Why?
Girl: That’s best.
Boy: No!
Girl: Suppose he wanted to do something, or something happened? Suppose he tried to…

Click, of course.

[iambiguous]

George is a bully. Even worse, a really, really obnoxious one. So Rocky decides to get even. He and Sam concoct a prank to humiliate him. Only the folks they invite along include Marty. And Marty [in his own way] is as obnoxious as George is. And, as it turns out, a bit more dangerous.

Then as is often the case these things don’t exactly go according to plan. Think Deliverance with kids.

Here’s the thing about being a bully: It’s not exactly an inherited trait. Instead, it tends to become a personality trait over the years. Usually because the bullies themselves have others bullying them. So if there is any hope of ending it all you need to be able to put this explanation out there and hope that the bully is able to grasp the bigger picture.

Unfortunately, the bigger picture also includes a culture steeped in a mentality whereby the strong stomp on the weak over and again. Why? Well, for one thing, in order that the fittest survive. Some in fact take pride in it. Being the master and not the slave. But mostly its about needing a scapegoat.

These things always seem to get so goddamn complicated. And, well, this is America.


Mean Creek

Millie [to Sam]: If you could snap your fingers right now and he would drop dead in his tracks, would you do it?

Let's name names.

Sam: You know, if we hurt him, we’d be just as bad as him.
Rocky: So we need to hurt him without really hurting him.
Sam: I mean, if you could think of something like that, then…

That doesn't involve, say, killing him?

Bumper sticker on the back of Marty’s Mom’s car: MY CHILD KICKED THE CRAP OUT OF YOUR HONOR STUDENT!

Enough said?

Millie: Sam, what’s going on here with George?
Sam: Oh, it’s nothing bad. It’s just a joke.
Millie: What kind of joke?
Sam: Well, we are planning on stripping him, throwing him in the river, and then we are gonna make him run home naked. We have a plan and it involves a dare.
Millie: A dare?
Sam: Yeah. See, the only reason I didn’t tell you before…
Millie: Who said I wanted to be a part of this?
Sam: What about this?
[Sam snaps his fingers]
Millie: What’s that?
Sam: “If you could snap your fingers right now, and he would drop dead in his tracks, would you do it?”
Millie: It’s totally mean, Sam.
Sam: He’s mean.
Millie: He’s a stupid fat kid. He’s got problems, but he’s obviously… Promise me you won’t do anything to him.
Sam: It’s not just me.
Millie: Promise me or I go back to the car.
Sam: All right, I promise. I’ll tell Rocky.

Next up: the law of unintended consequences.

George: Clyde. Pussy number one. Sam. Pussy number two. Millie. Pussy number three.
Millie: Go ahead, Clyde. Start the game.

See how it can all unfold...?

George [after Marty tells him why he is really there]: You’re a f****** lying son of a bitch, Sam! All right? And I hope you f****** go to hell!
Millie: Don’t make things worse, George.
George: Shut the fuck up, Millie. You f****** stupid JAP ****!
Clyde: Sit down, George. You’re out of control.
George [shouting]: Shut the fuck up, Clyde! You faggot! f****** skinny butt-munching faggot. I hate you! You know that? I really do! Because all you do is f****** prance around school, talking about your f****** faggoty fairy fathers! I’ll tell you what! I don’t wanna hear about your f****** fathers and how they’re assholes work, all right? It makes me sick, all right, and I f****** hope they f****** die of f****** fag disease! Yeah!
[he pauses, then looks at Marty]
George: And speaking of dead…fathers…I just remembered why bonehead white-trash f****** donkey-dick Marty got so f****** freaked when I started talking about his “daddy”. His neanderthal, drunk father put a gun in his mouth and splattered his brains all over the wall. You know, I almost forgot my mom told me that. She said, “His daddy splattered his brains all over the wall.” I thought it was sad at first. But now? I like it. HIS DADDY SPLATTERED HIS BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL! HIS DADDY SPLATTERED HIS BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL!
[everyone is trying to shut him up]
George: HIS DADDY SPLATTERED HIS BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL! HIS DADDY SPLATTERED HIS BRAINS ALL OVER THE WALL!

That'll do it.

Rocky: You have to trust me on this one, Sam. I’m your big brother.
Sam: But I don’t trust you.

Next up: Trust Nobody!

Marty: What do you think?
Rocky: I don’t know what to think.
Marty: Well, if you don’t know what to think, then you probably shouldn’t be making decisions.

Not many that excludes.

Detective: When your brother pushed George into the river, would you say he was in control, or out of control?
Sam [to the camera after the detective leaves the room]: I’ve never seen him more out of control in my life.

Besides, at that point it could almost have been anyone of them.

George [on his videotape “documentary”]: My name is George…and this…is the inside of my mind.
[sighs]
George: The inside of my mind has a zillion things…
[sighs]
George: The inside of my mind has a zillion things about it but…people that don’t see inside of my mind don’t know there are a zillion things and…Y’know, since no one sees inside my mind, no one really knows. But… one day people will know. One day people will know 'cause that’s my master plan. To film it all. To document every aspect of the life that is me. And put it in a time capsule in my backyard and so that one day some alien or some highly evolved species will find it and…understand.

You know, like posting here.

[iambiguous]

Melissa Broder

I'm in love with you and you don't want anything to do with me so I think we can make this work: a love story.

Repeat as necessary.

Bringing a child into the world without its consent seems unethical. Leaving the womb just seems insane. The womb is nirvana. It’s tripping in an eternal orb outside the space-time continuum. It’s a warm, wet rave at the center of the earth, but you’re the only raver. There’s no weird New Age guide. There’s no shitty techno. There’s only you and the infinite.

Click, let's say.

I'm always scared that every feeling is going to be permanent.

And how ironic is that?

Let's pretend you are capable of being who I think I need you to be: a love story.

To wit:
"She coulda turned out to be almost anyone
Almost anyone
With the possible exception
Of who I wanted her to be"

For someone with anxiety, dramatic situations are, in a way, more comfortable than the mundane. In dramatic situations the world rises to meet you anxiety.

And if it doesn't?

How dare he not give a fuck? What a luxury, the luxury of a man. The luxury of someone who looked at the ravages of time and went, “Eh.”

She means "meh" of course.

[iambiguous]

Not to be confused with Sixteen Candles.

Yes, the language spoken here is English. But I challange you to watch it without subtitles. Fortunately, I watch so many foreign films that subtitles are par for the course. In fact, it has reached the point where I watch a lot films with the subtitles on. It just feels strange not to.

Subtitles definitely needed here though because the characters are deeply enscounced in a working class community outside of Glasgow. Scots English can be…tricky.

Liam is a Ned. But he is trying hard not to be. His aim is to relocate his about to be released from prison Mum. Start a new life on the straight and narrow. Of course that is easier said than done in the world he comes from. He and his mate Pinball are always out on the streets hustling one thing or another to make ends meet. And it’s not like his family [aside from his sister] is bursting at the seams with good role models. But however much we might come to like them [Liam especially] we mustn’t forget that they spend the better part of their days making life miserable for others. And only some of them actually deserve it.

It’s all about options. What you want you have to be able to pay for. And if you want it bad enough and the options afforded along the straight and narrow won’t get it for you you either don’t get it or you fall back on the gear. But that means dealing with the big fish who run the pond. And that has consequences. Dire consequences.

He’s with the big boys now.

The film sparked a censorship debate in the UK regarding the amount of bad language used. Under current British Board of Film Classification rules, multiple uses of the word “fuck” usually only warrant a 15-certificate, but even a single aggressive use of the word “****” tends to lead to an 18-certificate, as was the case with Sweet Sixteen. It was argued, however, that this would prevent the people who could most closely identify with the characters in the film from going to see it, and that such language was much more commonly used, and therefore less offensive, in the north of the UK, where the film was set. The London based censors, however, stuck to their guns, although the local authority who cover the area where the film was shot, Inverclyde, utilized their cinema licensing powers to overrule this, and awarded the film a 15-certificate for screenings in their area. The word “fuck” and its variations are used 313 times.

The film was shot in sequence. IMDb


Sweet Sixteen

Chantelle [to Liam]: Remember when you ran out and fought three big boys? They all thought you were brave. I didn’t. I was screaming through the window. I heard your arm snap. When they let you go, you still laughed in their face. You didn’t fight them because you were brave. You fought them because you just didn’t care what happened to you. That’s what broke my heart. Just another kicking for you. How can you really care about us if you don’t care for yourself? What am I supposed to tell the wean in the morning? You tripped? Some junkies stole your fags and nearly killed you? All wee Calum’s got in the whole world is me and you. Nobody else. What happened to us isn’t going to happen to him. Never. Over my dead body, and I swear it.

It doesn't quite come to that. Though, in other respects, it's not all that far from it.

Liam: Why are you doing this?
Jack: You work for me, I take care of you. As easy as that. You can have these as soon as you take care of that wee p**** Pinball.
Liam: He didn’t know what he was doing. He’s had a hard time. His dad was a junkie. I’m all he’s got. I’ll sort it out, I swear. He’ll apologise to you and I’ll pay you back.
Jack: Hey, if you can’t deal with this, you get out now.
Liam: He’s like a brother to me.
Jack: Listen, an opportunity like this for someone like you only comes once.

Next up: his ominous "assigment" in the bar.

Pinball: What’s this?
Liam: Put it down.
Pinball: A blade. What are you going to do with that?
Liam: Put it down.
Pinball: So you were here to do me in? Here - take it. Are you f****** man or mouse? f****** take it! I’ll help you. Ready? The caravan. That’s right. f****** Pinball burnt it. It wasn’t Stan, it was me.
Liam: Why…?
Pinball: Don’t f****** move. I knocked a motor, can of petrol. Boom! Up she went. f****** shame, so it was. You f****** hurt me. I’d have done anything for you. f****** anything. But you fucked me about. You don’t believe me? f****** get back! You want the chance now? f****** do it. f****** bastard. I’ll f****** do it, then, eh? 'Cause you f****** put me through pain.
[Pinball slices his face with the knife]
Pinball: You came to do me in…you came to do me in.

It's complicated, let's say.

Liam: Is Mum up yet?
Chantelle: What’s wrong with you? She’s gone.
Liam: A wee walk will do her good. I think she had one too many last night.
Chantelle: No, Liam. She’s gone. Gone where she normally goes. The same “usual” as always. Liam, let her go. She’ll drive you mad. Let her go, for Christ’s sake! Liam, listen. It’s not that she doesn’t care, she can’t care! She’s a f****** crazy lost wee soul and she’s gonna ruin you too!

Sad, but true, let's say.

Chantelle [on phone]: It’s Chantelle. Are you OK? Where are you?
Liam: I don’t know.
Chantelle: Is it true? Everybody’s looking for you. The police have been round. Oh, Liam. What a waste. What a waste. It’s your birthday, you’re 16. Did you know that? What are we gonna do? Eh?
Liam: Chantelle, my batteries are running down.
Chantelle: I love you, Liam.

The rest [whatever it turns out to be] is history.

[iambiguous]

Jordan Peterson

Ideologies are substitutes for true knowledge, and ideologues are always dangerous when they come to power, because a simple-minded I-know-it-all approach is no match for the complexity of existence.

See, I told you.

In the West, we have been withdrawing from our tradition-, religion- and even nation-centred cultures, partly to decrease the danger of group conflict. But we are increasingly falling prey to the desperation of meaninglessness, and that is no improvement at all.

See, you told me.

Nietzsche said that a man’s worth was determined by how much truth he could tolerate.

Hell, most here will never tolerate my own truths. Unfortunately, however, I'm still not one of them.

Always place your becoming above your current being.

Right, like that will always be an option.

Every bit of learning is a little death. Every bit of new information challenges a previous conception, forcing it to dissolve into chaos before it can be reborn as something better.

Or nothing better.

If you have a comprehensive explanation for everything then it decreases uncertainty and anxiety and reduces your cognitive load. And if you can use that simplifying algorithm to put yourself on the side of moral virtue then you’re constantly a good person with a minimum of effort.

No politics please.

[iambiguous]

Going postal with a twist: someone beats you to it.

And then out of the blue you become a hero. What are the odds? In fact what are the odds of all this unfolding inside your head?

Given the nature of our political economy, where crippling alienation is built right into tasks rationalized down to the most menial components on one or another assembly line, where those at the bottom barely scrap by from paycheck to paycheck, where most are clearly expendable when the time comes, it’s not all that surprising that some go berserk. On the contrary, it has always amazed me why it doesn’t happen more often. But the American ruling class [with its own rendition of state capitalism] has always been particularly effective in subjugating the “workforce”.

Bob’s work is particularly mind-numbing. Wait’ll you see it. Ask yourself how you’d feel after a day of doing it. Let alone weeks, months and years.

Obviously, life does not unfold this way very often. In fact it doesn’t even unfold that way here. But just knowing that it can [that it might] is enough to give you pause. You never really know what’s around the next corner. And it is always intriguing how reality itself can be one thing and how people view it as another thing entirely. And yet it is what people think it is that counts.


He Was A Quiet Man

Bob [voiceover]: It was easier in the past. A man knew what it was to be a man. He stood up to things that were wrong. He was expected to do so. The way we lived trained then you to put yourself through the inevitable confrontations. Ones that could lead to dimemberment or even death. Then something happened. We passed laws of decency. Lawyers became our shepherds. What was once a fairly easy thing to understand became muddled in bureaucracy…what we call “civilization”. A man could no longer stand up to the wrongs around him. He had to go through courts and lawyers and miles of red tape. Woman demanded equality and she got it. Not by getting everthing a man had but by men being castrated before the world. They don’t care what you say. It’s not progress…it’s a delusion. It’s a disease until someone understands what’s at stake. Someone who can stand up like a real man and take action against injustice and unfairness in this world…today. Right now. Before lunch.

Unless, of course, someone does beat him to it.

Note taped to Bob’s refrigerator: YOU MAY ASK WHY I DID WHAT I DID…BUT WHAT CHOICE DID YOU GIVE ME?

Click, of course.

Bob: I’m not half as lame as you are.
Ralf: Oh yeah? Then you tell me what you’d call a man who’s stupid enough to piss off a maniac with a f****** loaded gun?
Bob: I’d call him a maniac with his own f****** loaded gun.

Or, sure, bazooka.

Goldie [the fish he converses with]: Welcome to our world, Bob.

Let's run thus by Jason Dean..

Shelby: As Vice-President of Creative Thinking you can think of this as your first assignment.
Bob: You’re going to pay me to think?
Shelby: It’s a crazy world.

Virtually or otherwise.

Bob [to Janice]: I don’t get out much. Sizzlers is all I lnow.

Only 74 left now. And 50 of them are in California. True story.

Bob [aloud to himself]: The bitch lied!

On the other hand, she's not the president of the United States.

Bob [voiceover]: You may ask why I did what I did. But what choice did you give me? How else could I get your attention? All I wanted to do is exist in your world. If only one person would take time to actually see me. Help me find a way out.

He'll need a bigger magnet.

Bob [voiceover]: There comes a time when the diseased and the weak must be sacrificed to save the herd.

Let's name names.

[iambiguous]

Eugène Ionesco

A writer never takes a vacation. For a writer life consists of either writing or thinking about writing.

Next up: a reader.

Of course, not everything is unsayable in words, only the living truth.

And how many times have I scolded you about that?

Not so with our characters. They have no metaphysics, no order, no law. They are miserable and they don’t know why. They are puppets, undone. In short, they represent modern man. Their situation is not tragic, since it has no relation to a higher order. Instead, it’s ridiculous, laughable, and derisory.

Just out of curiosity, why do so many of them end up here?

All men die in solitude; all values are degraded in a state of misery: that is what Shakespeare tells me

You know, being optimistic.

What's chivalrous about saying you've seen a rhinoceros?

Besides, how absurd is that?

It is true that all authors have tried to make propaganda. The great ones are those who failed, who have gained access, consciously or not, to a deeper and more universal reality.

And what might that be?

[iambiguous]

From the director of Cold Fish and Noriko’s Dinner Table above, many consider this to be his best film. Certainly one of his longest. At 4 hours in length some might avoid it for this reason alone. Well, it’s their loss. I only wish the original 6 hour take was available.

One take on it:
https://mubi.com/en/notebook/posts/upsk ... e-exposure

Who could resist this:

Three emotionally abused people from the fringes of society get locked in a convoluted love triangle. Yu, a Catholic boy searching for true love ends up taking erotic photographs of women in public until he discovers Yoko, whom he sees as his Virgin Mary. Yoko, an antifamily, misandristic girl finds that her foster mother will be marrying Yu’s father. Koike, an “original sinner”, coordinates a plan to convert Yu’s family to her cult. Under her careful direction, their lives come crashing together in one fateful street fight. IMDb

The title card says it is based on a true account. Uh, maybe. I wasn’t there though to confirm it.

It’s one of those films that are [at times] so over the top you can find yourself wondering: should I be laughing now or not? In other words, it makes points about the world we live in that are anything but funny—but it does so in a way that seems, well, preposterous. What should we take seriously? God and pornography. Religion and perversion. They seem to be rather inseparable here.

Why Catholicism? You got me. They reflect less than 1% of Japan’s population. But this is also about religious cults. And they exist practically everywhere. The “message” here seems to revolve around that famous passage in 1 Corinthians: “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” And: “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

Religious cults in Japan: https://mubi.com/en/notebook/posts/upsk ... e-exposure

But I suspect you would have to have a familiarity with religion in the Japanese culture to even come close to getting a fuller “meaning” of it all. Here’s one interpretation: https://mubi.com/en/notebook/posts/upsk ... e-exposure

It is so wonderfully surreal however you’ll soon give in to the sheer f****** spectacle of it.

Oh, yeah: If you have a fetish for panties you’ll think you died and went to Heaven.

The film gained a considerable amount of notoriety in film festivals around the world for its four-hour duration and themes including love, family, lust, religion and the art of upskirt photography. The first version was originally six hours long, but was trimmed at the request of the producers. IMDb


Love Exposure [Ai No Mukidashi]

Yu [voiceover]: When I was little I always watched my mother pray. I remember her beautiful face. I remember the beautiful statue of Maria. Everything was Holy.

His mother dies while he is grade school. Prompting his father [of course] to become a priest. A Roman Catholic priest in Japan.

Yu [voiceover]: My father, the priest. He became known for being gentle and caring. We were happy then. We had a peaceful life. Until she came along…

That'll do it.

Yu [voiceover]: Soon however our life with her began to fall apart…

By this time you become aware yet again of just how convoluted a religious conviction can become when it becomes entangled in the flesh. The parts below the belt in other words.

Yu [voiceover]: I became very alert. I always looked for sins I might have committed unknowingly. Though unfortunately I was really just an ordinary high school kid. To put it simply: I wanted to die.

Next up: click, click, click go the cameras.

Father: You lied today. I can tell. Were you lying?
Yu: I’m sorry.
Yu [voiceover]: Soon I realized I had to start committing sins for him. From now on I would do my best to sin! From then on I’d be busy committing sins for my father. Sins and even bigger sins! I made up my mind in class. I was ready to sin.

Again: Needless to say, it didn’t work.

Yu: Today is the day! We pick photo of the week!

Trust me: if your fetish does revolve around panties, this one's for you. Especially if you also have a "thing" for...oriental women?

Senpai: Did you confess to your father?
Yu: Yes. He beat me up and called me a pervert.
Senpai: No wonder you look happy.

Well, he is a pervert some will insist.

Yu: Listen! All perverts are created equal!

Any perverts here?

Koike [voiceover]: First, I traded in on bogus religious artifacts. I’m also the leader of a bogus charity group. And I’m a cocaine dealer. I traffic cocaine through embassies. All the money goes to the Zero Church.

Then we see her, uh, backstory. Right up to the part where she cuts off her father’s erect penis with a pair of scissors. Now she’s a big shot in the Zero Church. Zero? That’s where we’re all headed: back to zero. But that pales next to Yoko’s backstory. And, except for Kurt Cobain and Jesus Christ, she hates men. You won’t wonder why.

Yu: The wind blew her skirt up. My first hard-on!

Now that's a f****** sin, right Pop?

Yoko: Kaori, do you masturbate?
Kaori [shocked]: No! I’m a Christian!
Yoko: Christians don’t masturbate?
Kaori: No…I don’t think so.

Start here: https://www.gotquestions.org/masturbation-sin.html

Yoko: Is it a sin to be a lesbian?
Kaori: Oh, yeah. An unredeemable sin. Why do you ask? Dykes are perverts watch out for them.
Yoko [secretly pleased]: Perverts?

No, not that Yoko.

Yoko [talking to Yu but thinking it is Miss Scorpion]: He’s a pervert!
Yu: A pervert? Yoko, remember? Perverts have reasons for being what they are. We’d be called lesbians and that is pretty perverse. That perversion of yours probably has good reasons for being like that.

So, what are your reasons?

Senpai and Yu [reading aloud the way in which the Zero Church cult brainwashes their subjects]: “To brainwash them they go through steps. After the Bible study sessions, the victims go to a camp. The victims are confined until indoctrination is completed. It might take weeks until the process is completed. Until they become one of them…

Sounds about right, doesn't it?

Yoko [to Yu]: For now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know as also I was fully known. But now remains faith, hope and love. These three. But the greatest of these is love! You don’t even know these words. That sex-maniac priest of a father taught you nothing about the Bible! You know nothing about God!

And that's got to be a sin.

Yu: Zero is not God’s church. It’s just a sham!
Yoko: What about you?
Yu: I’m a pervert but not a phony! I am a pervert with dignity. If you want something holy, choose a deity. Buddha, Mohammed or Jesus Christ. But not the Zero Church! Zero is nowhere near Jesus, Buddha nor Mohammed! Zero is just lies!

On the other hand, aren't they all?

Zero Church priest [to the congregation]: You’re all in a state similar to cave dwellers. Plato wrote the cave allegory. The cave dwellers don’t see the light of the fire. They merely see the shadows on the wall. That’s the state you are in now. You might have thought that being uninhibited was freedom. You’re wrong…

New thread?

[iambiguous]

Rushmore. It’s a prep school -– or whatever the hell they call it -– for the children of America’s ruling class. So, we know more or less what to expect: some smart-ass iconoclast [barely getting by] is there to set their whole goddamn world spinning completely out of orbit. Well, that’s not really what we get here with Max. On the contrary, all he wants to do is spend the rest of his life there. Maybe die right on the campus.

In other words, he is not exactly out to change the world. More like someone who seems content to be poking holes in the facade. Oh well. He’s still an interesting character. And that means other interesting characters will tend to gravitate toward him. Or he to them. He’s like Cool Hand Luke by way of Ferris Bueller. Or, on more somber days, the other way around.

Alas though we live in a world where even “interesting characters” can [or more likely will] find themselves at odds. These become the epic battle royales. But then that’s half the fun of watching them reconcile.

And what a joyous ending. Almost as though the whole thing was scripted!

When Bill Murray first read the script, he thought it was so fantastic that he said he wanted to do it so badly he would do it for free.

During the casting process, the film makers went to different New England private schools, mostly in Massachusetts, looking for a student to play Max Fisher. IMDb


Rushmore

Student: If, and only if, both sides of the numerator is divisible by the inverse of he square root of the two unassigned variable.
Professor: Good. Except when the value of the “X” coordinate is equal to or less than the value of one. Yes Isaac?
Isaac: What about that problem?
Professor: Oh, that? Don’t worry about that.
Isaac: Wait. Why?
Professor: I just put that up as a joke. That’s probably the hardest geometry equation in the world.
Isaac: Well, how much extra credit is it worth?
Professor: Well, considering I’ve never seen anyone get it right, including my mentor Dr. Leaky at MIT, I guess if anyone here can solve that problem, I’d see to it that none of you ever have to open another math book again for the rest of your lives.

Let's put it on a chalkboard out in the hall and see what happens.

Herman: What’s the secret, Max?
Max: “The secret”?
Herman: Yeah. Well, you seem to have it pretty much figured out.
Max: The secret. I don’t know. Uh… I think you just gotta find something you love to do, and then do it for the rest of your life. For me, it’s going to Rushmore.

For some, it seems, it's posting here.

Max [to Rosemary after finding out she went to Harvard]: The top schools where I want to apply are Oxford and the Sorbonne. My safety is Harvard.

Mine was JHU. A millions years ago, anyway.

Max: So you were in Vietnam?
Herman: Yeah.
Max: Were you in the shit?
Herman: Yeah, I was in the shit.

I was sort of in the shit myself there.

Max: The truth is, neither one of us has the slightest idea where this relationship is going. We can’t predict the future.
Rosemary: We don’t have a relationship.
Max: But we’re friends.
Rosemary: Yes, and that’s all we’re going to be.
Max: That’s all I meant by “relationship.” You want me to grab a dictionary?

Define dictionary?

Max: What do you call getting a handjob from Mrs. Calloway in the back of her Jaguar?
Magnus: A f****** lie.
Max: You think I got kicked out because of just the aquarium? Nah, it was the handjob. And you know what else? It was worth it.

Sometimes it is and sometimes it's not even close.

Herman: Dirk?
Dirk: I know about you and the teacher.
Herman: Does Max know?
Dirk: No, and I don’t want him to know, ever. I just want it to stop right now. You’re a married man, Blume, and you’re supposed to be his friend.
Herman: Look, Dirk, I am his friend.
Dirk [spits on Herman’s car]: Oh, yeah. And with friends like you, who needs friends?

Sometimes that's a good point and sometimes it's not even close.

Dirk [in a letter to Max]: “Dear Max, I am sorry to say that I have secretly found out that Mr. Blume is having an affair with Miss Cross. My first suspicions came when I saw them Frenching in front of our house. And then I knew for sure when they went skinny dipping in Mr. Blume’s swimming pool, giving each other handjobs while you were taking a nap on the front porch.”

That'll do it.

Hotel desk clerk: And how long will you be staying with us, Mr. Blume?
Herman: Indefinitely. I’m being sued for divorce.
Hotel desk clerk: Very good, sir.

In other words, "whatever".

Dirk: Did you say my mom gave you a hand job?
Max: Who told you that goddamn lie? Never mind. I know who said it. I think I’m gonna stick a knife in his heart, then I’m gonna send him back to Ireland in a body bag.
Dirk: He’s from Scotland.
Max: Well, tell that stupid Mick he just made my list of things to do today. I’m gonna pop a cap in his ass.

No caps being popped here, thank goodness.

Rosemary: What do you think is going to happen between us? Do you think we’re going to have sex?
Max: That’s a kinda cheap way to put it.
Rosemary: Not if you’ve ever fucked before, it isn’t.
Max: Oh, my God.
Rosemary: How would you describe it to your friends? Would you say that you’d fingered me? Or maybe I could give you a hand job. Would that put an end to all of this?

It's a start, anyway.

Rosemary: Is this fake blood?
Max: Yes, it is.
Rosemary: You know, you and Herman deserve each other. You’re both little children. Let me show you the door.
Max: I’ll just go back out the window.

Men!

Max: How much are you worth, by the way?
Herman: I don’t know.
Max: Over ten million?
Herman: Yeah, I guess so.
Max: Good, good.
Herman: Why?
Max: Cause we’re gonna need all of it.

Plus a few credit cards.

Max [introducing his play “Heaven and Hell”]: I don’t usually do this, but this play means a lot to me, and I wanted to make a dedication. So, I’ll just say that this play is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Eloise Fischer, and to Edward Appleby, a friend of a friend. Also, you’ll find a pair of safety glasses and some earplugs under your seats. Please feel free to use them.

The Hell part for some, the Heaven part for others.

[iambiguous]

R.D. Laing

Even facts become fictions without adequate ways of seeing "the facts". We do not need theories so much as the experience that is the source of the theory. We are not satisfied with faith, in the sense of an implausible hypothesis irrationally held: we demand to experience the "evidence".

Wow, I'll bet that remids you of...me?

One may see his behaviour as 'signs' of a 'disease'; one may see his behaviour as expressive of his existence. The existential-phenomenological construction is an inference about the way the other is feeling and acting [...] The clinical psychiatrist, wishing to be more 'scientific' or 'objective', may propose to confine himself to the 'objectively' observable behaviour of the patient before him. The simplest reply to this is that it is impossible. To see 'signs' of 'disease' is not to see neutrally. Nor is it neutral to see a smile as contractions of the circumoral muscles.

Common sense, let's call it.

“I am not fond of the word psychological.
There is no such thing as the psychological.
Let us say that one can improve the biography of
the person." Jean-paul Sartre

Click, of course.

It seems also that the preferred method of attack on the other is based on the same principle as the attack felt to be implicit in the other's relationship to oneself. Thus, the man who is frightened of his own subjectivity being swamped, impinged upon, or congealed by the other is frequently to be found attempting to swamp, to impinge upon, or to kill the other person's subjectivity.

Never works for me. At least not that I'm actually aware of.

This writing is not exempt. It remains like all writing an absurd and revolting effort to make an impression on a world that will remain as unmoved as it is avid. If I could turn you on, if I could drive you out of your wretched mind, if I could tell you, I would let you know.

Does virtually count?

The family's function is to repress Eros; to induce a false consciousness of security; to deny death by avoiding life; to cut off transcendence; to believe in God, not to experience the Void; to create, in short, one-dimensional man; to promote respect, conformity, obedience. . .

Start here: https://www.amazon.com/Irrational-Polit ... 0961328967

[iambiguous]

Nature holds her secrets. And it is up to the scientist to pry them out. But what is the scientist up against when it comes to secrets rooted in the human heart? He can pry those out at his peril. Or by putting others in peril as well. If they can be pried out at all.

And there are other organs equally as treacherous.

The truth here is no where near so cut and dry. In fact, you made say they breed an unending clutter of conflicts.

The rest is a variation on upstairs/downstairs: the insufferably vain yet shallow aristocrats and the so much more humble yet fascinating “servants”. With obvious exceptions in both camps.

Only the scientist here is not quite a servant. Though practically penniless. Which for some of noble birth amounts to the same thing. He is fortunate though that head of the household shares his keen interest in natural science. And in insects. And in having his daughter marry.

Meanwhile, the scientist is so keen on observing ants he fails spectacularly in observing with keener obsevations the comings and goings of one Miss Compton.

In the end though, we are left to ponder: What does it mean to be “civilized”? And it’s not like the ants ever do.


Angels and Insects

Eugenia: Did you live entirely without the company of civilized peoples among the savages?
William: Not entirely. I had various friends of all colors and races during my stays in various communities but vsometimes, yes, I suppose I was the only white guest in tribal villages.
Eugenia: Is it true they are really naked…?

Well, some more than others.

Edgar: Everyone seems to have taken an interest in the natural sciences since your arrival here Mr. Adamson.
William: It’s a wothwhile pursuit, I hope.
Edgar: My father seems to think so. Which is fortunate for you. Saved you from the poorhouse, I’d say.
William: My origins are humble, but I doubt it would have come to that.

On the other hand, back then it might have.

William: Excuse me, I must now take tea with Lady Alabaster.
Edgar: While you are taking tea with my mother and talking about whatever it is you talk about with my father just don’t get too comfortable. You’re not one of us.

More to the point though he doesn't want to be.

William: Ants are social beings. They exist, it would appear only for the good of the whole nest.
Matty: I’d like to believe humankind capable of such altruistic virtues, but when I look around me I think socialist society may never be realized.

Let alone Communism?

Eugenia [to William]: I don’t need to marry a fortune. I have one of my own.

Let's run that by Edgar

Edgar: You are a miserable creature without breeding or courage.
William: As for breeding, I count my father as a kind man, an honest man…and I know no other reason for respect. As for courage, I think I may claim that to have lived for ten years in the Amazon, to have survived murder plots, poisonous snakes, shipwreck and fifteen days on a lifeboat in the mid-Atlantic may reasonably compare to driving a poor horse into a house through a window.

Let's run that by Eugenia.

William [gazing down at the new-born twins]: They do not seem to resemble me at all.

Hint, hint.

Edgar: There is no substitute for pure blood. Keep the breeds separate and you can’t go far wrong. That is the cardinal rule. God made creatures distinct. It is our job to keep them that way. Am I not right?
William: Well, a breed like a dialect of language can hardly be said to have a distinct origin. Indeed, the evidence is that all horses have descended from the same animal.
Edgaqr: Don’t be absurd! A dray horse has nothing in common with an Arab. There is no blood shared there. They’re different. Quite different. And if you knew horses you would see that.
Willaim: It is hard to believe, I agree. But you do not have to take my word for it. There is plenty of evidence…
Sir Harald: Mr. Darwin makes his argument very clear in “Origins of the Species”, very clear, which you would know Edgar if you ever took any interest in the important ideas of our time. Indeed, we need look no further than our own flock of small black sheep to see that careful breeding with the flock of our neighbors has produced an entirely new breed.
Edgar: Father…
Sir Harald: Think, Edgar, before you speak.

Next up: think first before you post.

Sir Harald: The world has changed so much William in my lifetime. I am old enough to have believed in the Garden of Eden…in Satan hidden in the serpent…the Archangel with his flaming sword closing the gate. And now I am supposed to believe in a world in which we simply are what we are because of mutations which go on and on and on through unimaginable millenia. A world in which angels and devils do battle for vice and virtue but in which we eat and are eaten and are absorbed into other flesh and blood. I shall molder like a mushroom when my time comes and it will always be soon. I shall end my life like a skeleton leaf about to be humus, a mouse clutched by an owl, a bull calf going to the slaughter through a gate which leads only to one way…to blood and dust and destruction. And then I think no brute beast would think such things. No frog, no hound even, would have such a vision of the Angel of Annunciation. Where does it all come from?

Allah?

Eugenia: Will you tell?
William: Whom can I tell, Eugenia, that I should not destroy in the telling.

I can't think of a single one.

Eugenia: I know it was bad. I know it. But you must understand it didn’t feel bad.
William: Breeders know even first-cousin marriages produce inherited defects, increase the likelihood…
Eugenia: That was a cruel thing to say.

Let's check on the twins.

[iambiguous]

Thomas Nagel from Mind & Cosmos

It would be an advance if the secular theoretical establishment, and the contemporary enlightened culture which it dominates, could wean itself of the materialism and Darwinism of the gaps.

Next up: the gaps here.

The question is there, whether we answer it or not.

Let's think of one.

I realize that such doubts will strike many people as outrageous, but that is because almost everyone in our secular culture has been browbeaten into regarding the reductive research program as sacrosanct, on the ground that anything else would not be science.

Or here [theoretically] philosophy.

Consciousness is the most conspicuous obstacle to a comprehensive naturalism that relies only on the resources of physical science. The existence of consciousness seems to imply that the physical description of the universe, in spite of its richness and explanatory power, is only part of the truth, and that the natural order is far less austere than it would be if physics and chemistry accounted for everything.

The agony and the ecstasy, for example.

Theism does not offer a sufficiently substantial explanation of our capacities, and naturalism does not offer a sufficiently reassuring one.

How about we split the difference. If that's even possible,

The world is an astonishing place, and the idea that we have in our possession the basic tools needed to understand it is no more credible now than it was in Aristotle’s day.

Hmm. So, there must be a God?

[iambiguous]

Death

“How unhappy does one have to be before living seems worse than dying?” Deborah Curtis

Start here: https://youtu.be/p15-hIIACvY?si=kjMx43cQZLejE2NT

And I could have died right then. And considering how things went, I really should have.” Ned Vizzini

Then repeat as necessary.

Yes, it was too late, and Sabina knew she would leave Paris, move on, and on again, because were she to die here they would cover her up with a stone, and in the mind of a woman for whom no place is home the thought of an end to all flight is unbearable.

Either that or up in smoke.

He said that there was death and taxes, and taxes was worse, because at least death didn’t happen to you every year.” Terry Pratchett

Right, like that would make it even worse

“If life was a dream, then dying must be the moment when you woke up. It was so simple it must be true. You died, the dream was over, you woke up. That's what people meant when they talked about going to heaven. It was like waking up.” Ian McEwan

Metaphorically as it were.

“Because no one needs to live forever. I think that sometimes you can outstay your welcome." Gemma Malley

Then this part: you want to live forever.

[iambiguous]

It’s hard to put into words just how remarkably strange and strangely remarkable this love story is. One of a kind doesn’t even come close to describing it. In fact, nothing I have come across [on or off the screen] does either. It blew me away.

He is just out of prison. He served two and a half years for a crime his brother committed. And he’s not altogether there in the head. She is afflicted with a neurological condition that leaves her barely able to move about or to communicate. Both of them appear to be basically burdons to their families. The family of Gong-Ju is particularly despicable. They use her to obtain a better apartment in a building for the disabled. And then once the social workers are gone they dump her somewhere else and pay the neighbors to look in on her.

They meet when he tracks down the family of the man he was sent to prison for killing…killed in a hit and run automobile accident. The man that his brother killed drunk behind the wheel. She is the man’s disabled daughter. In the beginning he is only interested in having sex with her. He all but rapes her the first time they are alone. But the experience – her terrified reaction – has such an effect on him that everything begins to change.

So-Ri Moon’s performance here is nothing short of amazing. I had assumed they hired an actor who really was afflicted with this disease. But there are scenes in the film imagining her not afflicted at all. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.


Oasis [Hangul]

Jong-Il [to Jong-Du]: It’s about time you grew up. Huh? Do you know what that means? Being an adult means you can’t just do what you like. You have to be responsible for your actions. You have to fit into society, be aware of how others see you. That’s what being an adult is all about.

In one ear and then immediately out the other.

Sister-in-law [to Jong-Du]: I’m sorry to tell you this but I really don’t like you. I know this sounds harsh but with you out of the way, I felt good about life. Without you, we had no worries. It’s not only me but your brother and your mother feel the same way.

Though let's not forget he was sent to prision for something his brother did.

Family member [at a birthday dinner for the mother]: Who is she?
Jong-Du: Remember that sanitation worker who died in the accident?
Uncle: Accident?
Jong-Du: Yeah. I went to prison because of that accident. She’s his daughter.

Wrap your head around that for a spell.

Jong-Du: Time to go. I’ll see ya.
Gong-Ju: Don’t go.
Jong-Du: What? You want me to stay?
Gong-Ju: I want to sleep with you.
Jong-Du: Sleep with me?
Gong-Ju: Don’t you know what a woman means when she says “I want to sleep with you”?

Or, as Paul Simon once described it in Duncan, "here comes something and it feels so good."

Jong-Du [after sawing off the last tree branch]: Your Highness!

Fulfilling his promise to make all those "shadows" go away.