I am stoned out of my mind right now and have had such a beautiful night. Before getting stoned, I had some drinks at Eastern Bloc, then went downtown, to Tribeca, to a house for a friend's fitting, and a ten year old girl was awake at sometime past ten, and she said Fester was her favorite Addams Family character, and she had a buzzed head, and she drew pictures of girls decapitating other girls, drew pictures of corpses, of zombie marriages, and her mother dressed her up like Karen Black for pictures, and she has a ferret named Maggot, and is the most goth ten year old ever. And to encounter her and talk about dinosaurs with her after she showed me dark art made me feel out of my mind, though at that point I had really truly yet to be.
And I saw the first ten minutes of Natural Born Killers once stoned, but first after seeing coverage, part of a two-hour special mind you, about a Japanese Stars War gathering. And is that for real? Was that really broadcast, such extensive coverage of a foreign Star Wars convention? And that money went to this, that is has viewers, that it isn't some absurd spoof in a movie is too much. Really?
But NBK! That scene right after the opening credits where "Sweet Jane" is playing and Mallory is talking about love and you realize what a beautifully sentimental film this really is underneath all the blood and violence! The song and the psychedelic shots and Mallory's voiceover about love, and you believing everything that her words imply and even vaguely hint at, that there is such a thing as love, that you are capable of it, that even psychopathic serial killers are capable of it, and that there is someone out there, one special person, your Micky, the person who will accept your serial killer ways and match them with their own serial killer ways, and you will drive off into that beautiful sunset, of course shooting any pig fuckers you encounter on the way to that beautiful horizon, and you will have experienced love, that it exists. And it is so beautiful and really trips me up every time I see it. I knew it would, made the three of us watch it because I wanted to see that, to feel that, to believe that, and knew the lines ahead of the actors saying them, was waiting for them to be said, having seen it too many times, their vocalization on screen the incantation of some teenage prayer I am still waiting for an answer to, thinking it close again with those words incanted, said.
And really? John Edwards? Really? The latest makes me want to see you jailed. That you care so little about progressive change that you would run for office, maybe win the Democratic primary and have this come out once you were already the nominee? It makes me so angry! And how corrupt the scheme was, really almost out of a bad novel when you read this new NYT account of all the shadiness, using campaign money and using campaign aides and lawyers to lie? It makes me so incredibly angry that someone advocating for integrity in politics has abused the little trust that people put into the idea of politics after Nixon, that people believe it's all true and that everyone's a liar. I hope prosecutors follow up on the illicit implications in this article and jail this stupid fucking asshole, who is really ruining the many positive thoughts I was feeling on my incredibly out of mind stoned walk back from the house where I viewed such absurd and beautiful things on their television set.
And I might also add that I am reading Saul Bellow's Herzog's Gift right now and it is magnificent and making me so giddy about life, about reading, about writing, about living.
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