r. paul anderson the novelist and then video store impressario asked me for a list of the 100 'most important' movies. 'the essentials' as that sydney pollack (sp?) vehicle on TCM has it. it became something of an issue twixt us for paul takes assignments very seriously, admirably actually i think, and truly i do too mostly but this was the kind i was born to fail. 'i'm working on it,' i'd say. but i'd pretty well decided. there are only three really important movies: "birth of a nation", "gone with the wind", and "glen or glenda". these stand in relation to each other sorta like the discovery of the compass, birth of a nation, the discovery of america, gone with the wind, and the discovery that america sucks, glen or glenda. now understand, 'liking' has nothing much to do with my selection process. apparently 'liking' implies a kind of possession in many, maybe most, peoples' conceptions. thereby if you 'like' the 'right things' you increase your social position. i'm gonna tell you true= this is a mental wiring i don't really have. oh you 'like' what i 'like' you been nosing down in the gultches of culture sure and i'd as soon you do your hunting somewhere else. you gonna drive prices up.
watching gone with the wind is like looking at holacaust pictures. and the fact vivien leigh is such a hot little slut and clark gable a demon smiling letcher, and that smile so completely fake, all this just spice to the utter poisoness. and this is high culture because david o selznick is one high motherfucking jewboy. a prince born and raised to all the horrible nasty habits of ruling. a boy skooled to be a shit. sammy running.
people think literary criticism doesn't matter but i promise you it is an essential aspect of cultural and individual mental health. i've been studying. for instance whenever i think gone with the windism (gone with the winditis?), a vicious conceptual virus, has subsided, i discover it raging more fiercely and in more peculiarly mutated forms. the other day i heard tell of yet another girl wouldn't let her boy do her till he watched that horrible movie. this girl black! well a lovely tawny yellow luscious to the eye. and young enough to be my daughter. apparently that mitchell tome had eaten itself into her mind over a long bus ride. i can see the parasitical tentacles of that cthulluesque (sp?)mythology spiralling from the pages and burrowing itself into her poor flesh and that air-door hisses and out she comes from that bus just the same but somehow completely other and evil. this is what twain saw in walter scott reading. hey, maybe better you never know a is for apple.
but if i had a male child i was welcoming to the wonderful world of pussy with an evil jack nicholson sneer i'd hand him a copy of that mitchell book and i'd say: "lots of pussy and ted turner seem to belive this shit so you best check it out."
i'm gonna get mouse up on his dada and he gonna be a cute cowboy sure.
2:04:07 PM 
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