Just ate a warm turd fresh from my dominatrix's bowels in anticipation.

Just ate a warm turd fresh from my dominatrix's bowels in anticipation.

I've been leery of that last one. Did you hear about what happened to that Saudi medical attache? Spooky shit.

I've been leery of that last one. Did you hear about what happened to that Saudi medical attache? Spooky shit.

I wish it was quite as good as that description makes it sound. Narrative isn't the priority here but a bare bones and half-intelligible plot doesn't have to entail a paucity of non-visual ideas. There's a fleeting suggestion that it all has something to do with Reaganism but it's too underdeveloped to resonate.

And except for Selfless, Conversations with Dead People, Storyteller, and Lies My Parents Told Me in season 7.

Suicide Club is the movie Michael Haneke would make if he had a discernible sense of humor. Though it's uneven.

Gozu has several of the most indelible scenes in a Miike film.

I'm a Miike fan and I have yet to encounter anything as relentlessly ugly and unpleasant as the first half of Irreversible or as explicit as the more infamous bits in Antichrist. He's done stuff that's on paper more elaborately fucked up than anything in either of those movies but usually there's some dark humor…

"Things that are changing the way the world works from the way it was when I started writing, like the Internet and cell phones, are spooky and to be distrusted because they're probably making us all alone and deeply existentially sad. And I should know, because I almost never use them."

Runs way, way deeper than that. E.g., Franzen's belief in old school 19th century realism as a way of getting at essential truths vs. Wallace's belief in pomo techniques to get at same, for starters.

In no way, shape, or form is that Crusoe/Wallace essay "excellent." It badly misreads Wallace's work (in a way that reads like profound insight if you haven't read enough Wallace to know better), shits on his memory under the pretense of honesty, and shits also on the people of Masafuera whose lives were devastated by…

This isn't the first Hong in B&W. That would be Virgin Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors.

I Saw the Devil is uber-stylish and inventive but the jury is out as to whether it says anything about revenge besides "You know revenge? It is really quite bad."

He's pretty much the very definition of an acquired taste but it's a taste well worth acquiring.

Dollhouse has great individual episodes, ideas, and moments but as a whole it's way too ungainly and uneven for me to call it great.

The only thing I've bothered with on Grantland after Klosterman's half-baked, douchey, and vaguely sexist article about Tune-Yards is Tom Bissell's videogame writing, which is rarely less than outstanding.

Messianic Myths was more Synecdoche-ish (Synecdoch-y?), I thought, with the insane reality-fucking involution of the Abed-Jesus movie and whatnot. And also just in tone, though obviously way less crushingly depressing than the real deal.

Yeah, "research," sure.

"I'm half-convinced that most casual cinephiles who purport to love Blue Velvet are merely fans of a few brief snippets of the work and of the idea of being an edgy Lynch supporter."
That half of yourself is a shitty person.