Thursday, March 25, 2004
I think that yesterday was the first day that I haven't posted an entry to this blog since Spooky and I were in Jacksonville in January. I just couldn't find the words.
Night before last, we watched Alejandro González Iñárritu's 21 Grams, which is damn near perfect in every single way. Benicio Del Toro remains one of the most captivating actors alive. My only regret was that there wasn't more Clea Duval, which, of course, is really neither here not there. The nonlinear narrative was much appreciated, and was perhaps the best nontraditional narrative I've experienced since Mulholland Drive, unless I'm forgetting something (and I usually am). It's a shame that very few readers (and even fewer editors and publishers) are up to the sort of storytelling we get in 21 Grams, and more's the frelling pity. Anyway, a superb film.
When people ask me why I live in the South, my answers generally revolve around issues of weather and temperature. It's certainly not because we have such extraordinarily bright politicians, who, when they aren't occupied with dumbing down the science curriculum in public schools, banning same-sex marriage, or making it easier for big business to rape the enviroment, have time to tell women what they can and cannot do with their genitalia. No dren. Here in Georgia, we may soon be lucky enough to have our very own labia police. Makes me proud, it does. Damn, I'm getting a lump in my throat, just thinking about how all those Georgia lawmakers have found it in their hearts to take time off from waving the Confederate flag and seeing that Georgia Power remains the biggest polluter on the North American continent, to think about our clits.
Now, ask me again: Why do I live in the South?
Isn't it obvious?
Today will hopefully be spent on the Dancy screenplay, Alabaster, though I really need to get to work on "The Daughter of the Four of Pentacles" (which is requiring more germination-time than my short stories usually do). Given my obsession with continuity, it's been bugging me that I was writing this screenplay which falls outside the continuity of Threshold and all the Dancy stories. Then, last night, I realized that it doesn't. Just as Low Red Moon is the story of Chance and Deacon and Sadie's lives in a world where the events of Threshold never occurred, so Alabaster tells us something about what happened to Dancy Flammarion in that same revised world. So, now all is neat and tidy and it won't keep me awake nights.
I saw a comment somewhere on barbelith.com that my blog is "harsh." It was clearly meant as a compliment, but, still, I feel so dirty.
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