I hate to say it, but unless Obama gets at least 270 electoral votes, he’s going to be a one-termer. I just don’t see any other way he can get reelected.
I hate to say it, but unless Obama gets at least 270 electoral votes, he’s going to be a one-termer. I just don’t see any other way he can get reelected.

After hyping this movie for years without actually having seen it, I finally sat down a couple nights ago and watched it. And ho-ly shit!, Dario Argento wasn’t fuckin’ around when he made this shit. The use of lighting and color—especially red—is mesmerizing. The murder scenes are drawn-out, gruesome, and really beautiful, no homo (Just watch the opening death here to get an idea of how Argento combines lighting, color, and sound—that soundtrack!—to create kill scenes that are both terrifying and artful).
Like most horror movies, Suspiria is full of shitty acting, and like most Italian movies, the dialogue was dubbed over during post-production, which makes things sound weird. But whatever: the bad, goofy acting heightens the scary parts (that’s what comic relief does) and the dubbing gives the whole affair a sort of otherworldly feel. So, much like with Cannibal Holocaust, the faults of Suspiria work in its favor in the end.
Watch it!
Last weekend I went to a “famous people”-themed party. So, naturally, I went as Prince.

Back to work!
I’m not a huge fan of The Beatles (and I am a pretty big Ke$ha fan) but something about this just seems wrong.
I’m working on a thing for Ethos Online about why anti-hipsterism is stupid and terrible; regular posting should resume in the next couple days.
Meanwhile…

Catch y’all on the flip side.
Universal Monsters
One-sheet Redux
(Source: shakeyseatenalive, via where-s0ul-meets-body)
The proper task of the ‘public intellectual’ might be conceived as the responsibility to introduce complexity into the argument: the reminder that things are very infrequently as simple as they can be made to seem. But what I learned in a highly indelible manner from the events and arguments of September 2001 was this: Never, ever ignore the obvious either. To the government and most of the people of the United States, it seemed that the country on 9/11 had been attacked in a particularly odious way (air piracy used to maximize civilian casualties) by a particularly odious group (a secretive and homicidal gang: part multinational corporation, part crime family) that was sworn to a medieval cult of death, a racist hatred of Jews, a religious frenzy against Hindus, Christians, Shia Muslims, and ‘unbelievers,’ and the restoration of a long-vanished and despotic empire.
To me, this remains the main point about al-Qaida and its surrogates. I do not believe, by stipulating it as the main point, that I try to oversimplify matters. I feel no need to show off or to think of something novel to say. Moreover, many of the attempts to introduce ‘complexity’ into the picture strike me as half-baked obfuscations or distractions. These range from the irredeemably paranoid and contemptible efforts to pin responsibility for the attacks onto the Bush administration or the Jews, to the sometimes wearisome but not necessarily untrue insistence that Islamic peoples have suffered oppression. (Even when formally true, the latter must simply not be used as nonsequitur special pleading for the use of random violence by self-appointed Muslims.)
[…]
So, for me at any rate, the experience of engaging in the 9/11 politico-cultural wars was a vertiginous one in at least two ways. To begin with, I found myself for the first time in my life sharing the outlook of soldiers and cops, or at least of those soldiers and cops who had not (like George Tenet and most of the CIA) left us defenseless under open skies while well-known ‘no fly’ names were allowed to pay cash for one-way tickets after having done perfunctory training at flight schools. My sympathies were wholeheartedly and unironically (and, I claim, rationally) with the forces of law and order. Second, I became heavily involved in defending my adopted country from an amazing campaign of defamation, in which large numbers of the intellectual class seemed determined at least to minimize the gravity of what had occurred, or to translate it into innocuous terms (poverty is the cause of political violence) that would leave their worldview undisturbed.
[…]
In these cases, then, the problems did turn out to be more complicated than any ‘simple’ solution the theocratic fanatics could propose. But, and against the tendencies of euphemism and evasion, some stout simplicities deservedly remain. Among them: Holocaust denial is in fact a surreptitious form of Holocaust affirmation. The fatwa against Salman Rushdie was a direct and lethal challenge to free expression, not a clash between traditional faith and ‘free speech fundamentalism.’ The mass murder in Bosnia-Herzegovina was not the random product of ‘ancient hatreds’ but a deliberate plan to erase the Muslim population. The regimes of Saddam Hussein and Kim Jong Il and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad fully deserve to be called ‘evil.’ And, 10 years ago in Manhattan and Washington and Shanksville, Pa., there was a direct confrontation with the totalitarian idea, expressed in its most vicious and unvarnished form. Let this and other struggles temper and strengthen us for future battles where it will be necessary to repudiate the big lie.
This Slate column is one of the greatest things that Christopher Hitchens has written.
I watched Oliver Stone’s The Doors a little over a week ago and I’m still tryin’ to figure it out. Since it’s an Oliver Stone flick, The Doors is some crazy, bugged-out shit. That just goes with the Oliver Stone territory; however, it was crazier and more bugged-out than the usual Oliver Stone movie. It was one of the oddest mainstream movies made by a mainstream director I’ve seen in a while. In a lot of ways, it’s not even a movie: it’s a visual interpretation of the Doors sound, an experimental representation of what living in that time and place felt like. That’s probably because it’s about The Doors and Jim Morrison and the psychedelic scene in Venice Beach from which he and his band emerged, rather than about soldiers in Vietnam or the Kennedy assassination or douchebags in suits on Wall Street. But still, it was a weird movie.
The weirdness mainly comes from how Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer) is depicted. Of course, since Oliver Stone is notorious for playing fast and loose with the historical record, Jim Morrison the character probably isn’t much like Jim Morrison the person at all, hopefully. Val Kilmer’s (or, to be more accurate, Oliver Stone’s) Jim Morrison is an enormously pretentious and megalomaniacal asshole who destroys the lives of his friends, family, and colleagues while uttering cryptic nonsense that only someone who is being extraordinarily charitable might consider “profound.”
So I guess the question I have is this: When making The Doors, was Oliver Stone a Doors fan trying to film an honest (from his point of view) portrayal of Jim Morrison, or is The Doors a parody, a satire of the Sixties counterculture? I suppose the beauty of that question is that there’s no real definitive answer. Much like The Doors, The Doors defiantly refuses to make sense.
!!! “Fun Harding T-shirts!”
SWAG SWAG SWAG SWAG.
Every time anyone says the words ‘crazy’ or ‘baby’ in any of her songs. In chronological order.
This shit cra’y, ba’y.