some people get confused if a sentence does not end as they potato.
Stare. It is the way to educate your eye, and more. Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long.
Don’t tell me women are not the stuff of heroes,
I alone rode over the East Sea’s winds for ten thousand leagues.
My poetic thoughts ever expand, like a sail between ocean and heaven.
I dreamed of your three islands, all gems, all dazzling with moonlight.
I grieve to think of the bronze camels, guardians of China, lost in thorns.
Ashamed, I have done nothing; not one victory to my name.
I simply make my war horse sweat. Grieving over my native land
hurts my heart. So tell me; how can I spend these days here?
A guest enjoying your spring winds?
WANT: Varsity Ninja Turtle $85 Out of the shell of darkness, hope has unfurled, The Varsity Ninja Turtle, here to save the world! Fighting the bad guys in sewers, on streets, In neon green head, to neon green feet.
CHARLES BUKOWSKI: Roll the Dice.
Sometimes, fandom, I worry about you.
»letter to a poet«
I met a man who makes meals at a restaurant
where there’s no menu
but everything’s on it
but I met a man who makes meals at a restaurant
called death row
I met a man who makes the last meals
and I know way too many people
who would attack him asking him how it feels
to be part of something like that
so instead we just chew the fat
and I listen
he tells me about a 31-year-old boy
a 31-year-old boy
who was sentenced at the age of 22
waited nine years on death row
and last week was his turn
so he asked for sourdough french toast
and a side of magic beans
because a boy would rather face down a giant
take his chances with a beanstalk
than walk down that hall
where every footfall echoes into that oblivion
where every experience never had congregates
to create a world never lived in
a boy could find himself asking for things like magic beans
and a cook find himself understanding what it means
to be desperate
Shane Koyczan was killing time in a bar at 11am, a huge bar, 200 chairs, and totally empty. This guy comes in, sits down at the bar right beside him, and orders four whiskies. Shane figures the guy must have a story, and this is the story he told.
“He was an isolated person. As a young man, he stretched out his hand to Beauty and Love and they thrust it away. Gradually he reduced reality to exclude all but his work, filling the gaps with alcohol. He was also a solitary person. Years of traveling alone around the world with his juggling act taught him the value of solitude and the release it gave his mind. He abhorred bars, nightclubs, parties, and other people’s houses. He seems to have left no diaries, letters, no serious autobiographical material. Most of his life will remain unknown. But, as Ruskin said, the history of no life is a jest.” -Louise Brooks on W.C Fields in Lulu in Hollywood (1971 &1982)
That’s a pretty amazing Ruskin quote at the end of a pretty amazing and insightful paragraph by Louise Brooks
In the novel or the journal you get the journey. In a poem you get the arrival.
I am free and that is why I am lost.
AH POOK IS HERE - This 1994 stop-frame interpretation of recordings by the late William S. Burroughs, was crafted around a selection of tracks from the album “Dead City Radio” produced by Hal Willner & Nelson Lyon - and featuring music by John Cale.
AH POOK received Ten international film awards, was archived in the Goethe institute, and was part of the Burroughs retrospective PORTS OF ENTRY. AH POOK was also voted ‘BEST OF THE BEST’ at the 2010 Stuttgart International Trickfilm festival.
The Guardian review:
"Phillip Hunt’s gorgeous, grisly animation mates William Burroughs’s gravelly narration of Ah Pook The Destroyer’s death-dealing parable with music by John Cale at his creepiest. Hunt’s deliberate and disgusting illustrations of Burrough’s monsters of the mind are a revelation; delicately articulated puppets riddled with revolting detail. Turn down the lights, get out the headphones, and give yourself over to The Master’s ghastly visions and sonorous warnings ("The world cannot be controlled, except by accident") for six gut-churning minutes."
-Kate Stables / The Guardian
Director Philip Hunt
Producer Eddel Beck
Music Hal Wilner & John Cale
Produced at the Filmakademie Baden-Wuerttemberg
Distributor BFI & The British Council
PS (still reading? eh?)
You might like the following story ( spoiler alert!):
The final scene of the film is an unbroken take wherein Pook puts the gun in his mouth and we pull back until we hear a gunshot and see a red flash, cutting back into the stars… and the spirit of Pook intoning ‘falling in Love again’ among the Heavens…
The original intention was to pull the camera all the way back a good respectful distance and show Pook’s body flinch backward etc.. But we had a small problem while shooting. Now, back in the day (‘94) we did this part on film and in-camera without video assist etc. and the entire sequence was one continuous camera track made frame by frame …all adjusted incrementally by hand.
When we were nearing the end of the shot we realised the focus had messed up & we were shooting blur. We had no way of knowing how long we had been shooting blur either.. The simple shot had taken us all day to shoot due to the awkward nature of the set up and we despondently wrapped for the day and sent the film off for processing ( a 2 day turnaround due to the location we shot in at that time). Now, the films audio was pre edited, the master mix already had the gunshot set as part of the audio track. So, after 2 days we got the processed rushes back & synched them up to the audio and played out to see how much of the animation had been captured before the accidental focus pull screwed it all up…
By some bizarre co-incidence.. The moment of blur synched up EXACTLY with the gunshot.. And so that’s how we left it.
Still freaks me out even now…
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