Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie (1971) 1/25/09

I went down the stairs; I went up the stairs. I went down the stairs. I went down the stairs and I miss dinner. I sat down. I watched something intricate that was never eaten. I mentioned to a rhinoceros. I mentioned to a city you had become. You thought I said you make the city look good. It was weird that O'Neill was alluded to, even in a misunderstanding. I miss Sasha/Electra. I miss Freddy. I miss Ionesco. Thank you-- for bringing that pistol. And without justice. And with first names being the same. Without promise of reality.

Charme discret de la bourgeoisie (1971) 1/25/09

I'd like to tell you about a movie night I attended recently. I approached the front of the house as usual, preferring to leave my shoes in the little corner of the living room dominated by an overworked coat tree. Through the living room window there was a warm glow of light and a Christmas tree still but, curiously, I saw no one. Was it remotely possible that I had lost track of the week this badly, that I was now climbing the two or three steps into a Monday evening or even a Tuesday, a lost little evening rung in and out with only a few hollow footfalls up the steps and taps at the front door? Hard to be sure. It wasn't until I could see through the little window in the door that I found them as they were, all on the floor, below the eye level of an observer positioned on the street, quietly stunned for a moment in a cold picture square of door glass.

I opened the door and was met by warm air and people, threats of French toast but, also curiously, no takers. I accepted some tea from Jamalieh. It was decaffeinated and healthful, at least nominally, and I expected Derek to make fun of me for it as he had earlier in the week. He only smiled and I forgot my plan to make a joke on his behalf. As he is not much of a drinker and generally well spoken he left me little opportunity anyway.

At 8:05 my brother called me from many time zones away. I paced around the living room, greedily taking in his opinions about Obama, his plans for after May and the ambient sounds of socializing in the kitchen. The conversation went on for a while and when I rejoined the party I found that they had waited graciously for me to finish to begin the movie.

We watched a really weird movie and ate a box of Donettes.

And then Kara drove some of us home, which was nice. Thanks, Kara.

Light Years aka Gandahar (1988) 1/18/09

I was the last to arrive to Movie Night on Sunday because I missed the 14 bus and decided that dealing with the cold and taking my bike was going to be the only alternative to missing Light Years. Actually, I didn't know it was Light Years and I'm glad for my ignorance because I got my annual sci-fi quota done last week with Wall-E.

But I didn't miss it, luckily. I got right down on that couch and there began a story without words about an easy world with no bikes, buses or physical exertion period. People walk around naked eating big fruits that fall constantly from the trees and, no doubt, are delicious and nutritious. They socialize with themselves and with the animals that bring them comfort by nodding and when they open their mouths to talk the insides of their mouths are the same colors as the outsides of their bodies and the movements of their lips does not correspond to the sounds that they make. Everything was simple again and I had a glass of cool water.

There is trouble in paradise and I don't want to give it away. But if you thought He-Man and the Landshark were cool, you're going to need to check out the "impetuous" leading man and his flying Stingray! Sci-fi synth tracks: A-, He-Man-esque animation: B, story: B- Oops, I made a smiley!