This clip is from the 1981 movie My Dinner with Andre. Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory, playing themselves, share their lives over the course of an evening meal at a restaurant. Gregory, on the right, is far more talkative. As I listened to him I was impressed at his ability to memorize a long speech.
Continue reading “My Dinner with Andre”
A reader suggested that I take a look at Charlie Sheen as being a Matt Damon Batch member, and I didn’t have to look long. There are certain characteristics that immediately jump out at me, among them the part on the left side of the head, the square jaw, and what has to be considered ruggedly handsome features of leading man quality.
Continue reading “My Sunday morning … wasted efforts and ramblings”
Before I return to the earlier Peculiar Plots, I stumbled upon this story, that deserves being part of the series. Again, the plot is so ridiculously contradictory, that it baffles people actually believe these kinds of plots. The plot holes are so deep and pervasive, the story could just be called a talking Swiss cheese.
The Stalag Luft III allegedly was a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp of Nazi Germany in the extreme east of the Altreich (the borders of Germany pre-WWII), in present-day Poland. It is said there were “10,949” prisoners (unknown if this is a cumulative number or the maximum at one moment) consisting of British RAF and US American USAF and other nationality prisoners. The two compounds of the camp are said to have been guarded by 800 Nazi officers.
Continue reading “Peculiar Plots – The Great Escape”
Needing to get away from the Perón‘s (there is one more segment to follow with another startling discovery from Richard Juckes), I decided to do something quick and dirty. Somewhere I saw a photo of Sylvester Stallone playing polo. That’s not a big deal, as the man is very athletic. But it is incongruent. Stallone is said to be from Hell’s Kitchen and a broken home one who did odd jobs like cleaing animal cages to make his living as a youth. Polo is a difficult sport that takes years of practice to be good. Stallone has described it as like playing golf during an earthquake.
Continue reading “The Italian Stallion grew up in hell’s kitchen, where he excelled at polo”
A few years back I was alive with the excitement of a discovery that changed my outlook, that “Paul McCartney” was actually two men, a set of twins. Once I got a thorough immersion in their faces, they became easily to tell apart, so that I can easily see that today’s Paul McCartney is actually “Mike,” though we do not have the luxury of knowing their real names.
That information in tow, I put together a (in retrospect, sloppy) blog post on the matter, and submitted it to Miles Mathis. He rejected it as not up to standards, which I easily accepted, as I was indeed a newbie. At a certain point in the succeeding conversation he suggested one flaw in my writing: “You make too many assumptions.”
Continue reading “Assumptions, assumptions, assumptions …”
I was not prepared to accept this comment from XE on first reading. It sat uncomfortably even as I know I can be fooled, and have been time and again.
I watched the movie Grizzly Man in 2005, and we met Timothy Treadwell at a lecture in either Bozeman or Billings, Montana. That created personal interest. What I wrote before was the result of twelve-year-old memories.
Back then I did not watch movies with a discerning eye. I still thought jets flew through buildings like a knife through butter. I thought that elections were real, that news was essentially a (distorted) reflection of reality, and that a movie labeled “documentary” by its makers would be an honest enterprise.
I had to watch the movie again, and did yesterday afternoon.
Continue reading “Grizzly deaths”
This essay contains medical information that might be construed as advice. It is not, but rather just long-winded opinion. Read it at your own risk.
Zombies on the Brain
In this piece I will proffer a novel thesis. And like every argument, I start from certain premises—things that one accepts without trying to prove.
I hold this truth to be self-evident: that the most awesome of all movie monsters ever are sword-wielding skeletons. I will drop anything to watch the scene from the 1963 classic Jason and the Argonauts in which the
Claymation Dynamation skeletons rise from the soil to attack Jason and his men. I also stipulate to the nearly equal awesomeness of CGI skeletons. [Edit: see comments below]
The other cinematic monsters leave me cold. Vampires? They suck. Werewolves? What’s the big hairy deal? Mummies? There’s more wick than wickedness about them. Godzilla and Rodan? Hardly rad to me. You can keep your demon-possessed dolls, your poltergeists, and your ghosts. The Terminator is alright, but just because under the ugly Arnold-skin is a bitchin’ metallic skeleton. Continue reading “Avast, We Scurvy Dogs!”