The Other Sister
Nikolaus Maack
moving, beautiful, romantic film.
I came home from a meal at a thai restaurant, and my roommates / employers
were just starting to watch it. I'd been thinking about the fool
archetype today, having spoken about it in this newsgroup, so it was
interesting to stumble upon this film.
Juliette Lewis plays a mentally handicapped girl who is trying to get some
independence from her over-protective mother. As I watched Juliette Lewis
say the wrong thing and do the wrong thing, all the while saying and doing
exactly the RIGHT thing, cutting through all the bullshit and getting to
the heart of every matter, I got a deeper understand of the fool.
The fool doesn't know any better. The fool says whatever is on their
mind, without worrying too much about embarrassment or inappropriate
behavior. The rules are all broken, and the fool doesn't even notice.
This tends to freak out a lot of people who care very much about surface
matters. People who worry about rules can't cope with fools, because
fools prove, over and over again, that most rules are stupid.
"You -- you can't do that!" says the stunned person.
"Why not?" asks the fool, smiling goofily, genuinely curious.
"That's... It's just not done that way!"
"Gee, well, I did it. So, I guess, it can be done that way, huh?"
"But... But..."
As they stumble through the rules, smashing them to pieces, fools point at
what really matters. The basics of human interactions. The emotions that
drag us back and forth. Love, happiness, joy, honesty, expressing what
you feel, being who you are, ignoring the mask of politeness and speaking
with honesty and sincere feeling. Don't hurt other people. Treat them
with respect. Be good. Lie down in mud puddles and pet statues of lions.
The cynic in me wants to sneer in disgust. Forest Gump nonsense. Fools
are stupid, and that's that. What does a fool know? Nothing!
The fool in me tells my cynic, "You're just afraid. If stupid people know
more than smart people, then all that smart stuff you're doing -- reading
books, taking courses, thinking profound thoughts -- are a waste of time.
You've got so much invested in looking smart that you're afraid to stop
doing it."
Cynic: "These things are important! Knowing is important!"
Fool: "Maybe. But not knowing is also important. How can you know what
you should know, unless you don't know it first? Not knowing is the first
step to knowing, no?"
Cynic: "I hate it when you talk like that. It sounds stupid."
Fool: "Oh well. Do you like cheese?"
Cynic: "Why, yes, I do."
Fool: "Me too."
And the fool wanders away, whistling. Which leads me to ask, how can we
hate an archetype who loves cheese?
Nik
--
"Reason is and ought to be the slave of passions." -- David Hume
The Nik Maack Art Gallery
http://www.nikart.com
Dale Houstman
"Nikolaus Maack" <ac...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA> wrote in message
news:8mdh9c$61g$1...@freenet9.carleton.ca...
> I saw the film "The Other Sister" tonight, totally by chance. It's a very
> moving, beautiful, romantic film.
It's a solid piece of Hollywood sentimental drivel, tailor made for people
who have forgotten what film is, and just want to be comforted by the fact
that - oh yes - even those with problems can triumph. It is quite in line
with other such Tinsel Town squeeze-outs like Gump and Rain Man. At some
point in every actor's life they want to play a physically or mentally
challenged person (it's become a cinema cliche), because it usually garners
great gushes of "real feeling" from critics, and is relatively proof against
negative reviews (you don't want to pick on the handicapped after all.)
European film usually have handled these things with more honesty
(especially the Italian "realists" like De Sica), dispensing with the
falseness and showing us how society really treats those who "fall behind."
dmh
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
[on the topic of the film "The Other Sister]
> It's a solid piece of Hollywood sentimental drivel, tailor made for people
> who have forgotten what film is, and just want to be comforted by the fact
> that - oh yes - even those with problems can triumph.
You never saw the movie, did you? I myself try to see a film before
passing judgement on it.
george
"Nikolaus Maack" <ac...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA> wrote in message
news:8mdh9c$61g$1...@freenet9.carleton.ca...
> I saw the film "The Other Sister" tonight, totally by chance. It's a very
> moving, beautiful, romantic film.
>
Your comment about reading reminds me of a friends dad who saw me with a
book,
Thomas Mann's "The Magic Mountain" incidentally, and he said that I was a
poof for reading.
He also said that people who read are obviously stupid as they are always
reading to catch up with
other naturally intelligent individuals. And he wasn't being ironic. He
really is a big fat bigoted Sun reading arsehole. The average person really
is a shit head, aren't they.
>
> Cynic: "These things are important! Knowing is important!"
>
> Fool: "Maybe. But not knowing is also important. How can you know what
> you should know, unless you don't know it first? Not knowing is the first
> step to knowing, no?"
>
> Cynic: "I hate it when you talk like that. It sounds stupid."
>
> Fool: "Oh well. Do you like cheese?"
>
> Cynic: "Why, yes, I do."
>
> Fool: "Me too."
>
> And the fool wanders away, whistling. Which leads me to ask, how can we
> hate an archetype who loves cheese?
>
Dale Houstman
> "Dale Houstman" (dm...@citilink.com) writes:
> [on the topic of the film "The Other Sister]
>
> > It's a solid piece of Hollywood sentimental drivel, tailor made for
people
> > who have forgotten what film is, and just want to be comforted by the
fact
> > that - oh yes - even those with problems can triumph.
>
> You never saw the movie, did you? I myself try to see a film before
> passing judgement on it.
>
Matter of fact, I DID see the movie. My comments stand even taller than
before.
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
"Dale Houstman" (dm...@citilink.com) writes:
> Matter of fact, I DID see the movie. My comments stand even taller than
> before.
Wow. So you saw the movie after all, huh? How did you manage to see it?
I find it weird that *I* saw the movie. It's the sort of film I'd never
watch unless I accidentally stumbled across it by accident. Which is what
happened. Is that what happened to you?
And how could you fail to be moved by it? Saying a Hollywood movie isn't
real enough is like complaining that junk food has no nutritional content.
Of course it doesn't. What's amazing is, despite that, it still manages
to be pretty tasty.
cythera
>Saying a Hollywood movie isn't real enough is like complaining
>that junk food has no nutritional content.
>Of course it doesn't. What's amazing is, despite that, it
>still manages to be pretty tasty.
>
> Nik
Centerville.
cythera
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Dale Houstman
"cythera" <lukeydN...@earthlink.net.invalid> wrote in message
news:231b0fb2...@usw-ex0102-016.remarq.com...
> ac...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Nikolaus Maack) wrote:
>
> >Saying a Hollywood movie isn't real enough is like complaining
> >that junk food has no nutritional content.
> >Of course it doesn't. What's amazing is, despite that, it
> >still manages to be pretty tasty.
> >
fact, I tend to like films like this), but I was talking about a certain
kind of film, and comparing that style in Hollywood with the way this same
subject matter is treated in such "social realist" films as De Sica makes.
After all, it is Nik who said that the film brought up questions of
realtionships. If this is what one takes from a film, then (and only then)
it is pertinent - it seems to me - that the treatment have some bearing as
to reality. Otherwise your experience is false, as is the film. Taken as
Hollywood fodder, I'll admit the film does everything such vapid fare is
supposed to do. In that - limited - way it is a success. However - and
please forgive me - I expect more, and I said so. If Nik has a problem with
people not liking the same films he dotes upon, I think that is a very
personal problem (quite in line however with all other manifestations of
Nikism), but it certainly isn't mine.
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
> Of course, he misses the entire point: plenty of movies aren't "real" (in
> fact, I tend to like films like this), but I was talking about a certain
> kind of film, and comparing that style in Hollywood with the way this same
> subject matter is treated in such "social realist" films as De Sica makes.
You know Dale, for a poet, you sure can write like a bureaucrat. When
people write me email offering me sympathy for having to put up with you,
they inevitably call you pompous and arrogant. I mention this, not to
attack you, but to ask if you perceive yourself this way.
People perceive me as scrambled, inconsistent, silly, stupid, and
sometimes cruel. I can live with almost everything on that list but
cruel. It's something I keep trying to change, but it's very difficult to
do. I mention this, because I'm assuming that you view your "pomposity"
in a positive light, the same way I view my scrambled inconsistency in a
positive light. Is this the case?
> If Nik has a problem with
> people not liking the same films he dotes upon, I think that is a very
> personal problem (quite in line however with all other manifestations of
> Nikism), but it certainly isn't mine.
No, please, feel free to hate the movies I like. In fact, here's a second
chance to hate what I like -- for some unknown reason, I saw "X-Men" for
the second time this evening. A friend of mine insisted on dragging me
along, offering to pay my way. See, I told him the film wasn't in fact
the huge stinky turd I expected it to be, and he wanted me to prove it by
watching it with him.
"X-Men" is actually quite good. Despite being about superheroes and all
that, they manage to have some interesting characters in there. The
interactions between Rogue and Wolverine are actually touching. Who'd of
thunk that a masturbatory little boy fantasy could have room for something
as sensitive as feelings? Wow.
Now you can gnaw on that bone, Dale. Tell me how they make better and
more authentic superhero movies in France and Spain.
Dale Houstman
> "Dale Houstman" (dm...@citilink.com) writes:
> > Of course, he misses the entire point: plenty of movies aren't "real"
(in
> > fact, I tend to like films like this), but I was talking about a certain
> > kind of film, and comparing that style in Hollywood with the way this
same
> > subject matter is treated in such "social realist" films as De Sica
makes.
> [snip]
>
> You know Dale, for a poet, you sure can write like a bureaucrat.
Strange thing is, some poets are bureaucrats. (Though I must demure, and say
the people who say this - undoubtedly imaginary - haven't read too many
bureaucratic documents). There is no "one way" that poets speak or write.
And - if you read closely - you'd find that I don't write this way to
everyone. It is the affected tone one takes when trying to explain complex
things to a brain trauma case. Go over everything three times and keep
hammering it home until the listener stops drooling into his pajamas and
seems to make fleeting eye contact. We do our best with you - waste entirely
too much time in fact - and yet win no appreciation from you for all our
efforts. Let's say we consider it charity. Maybe we are trying to earn our
place in your nihilist heaven.
> people write me email offering me sympathy for having to put up with you,
> they inevitably call you pompous and arrogant. I mention this, not to
> attack you, but to ask if you perceive yourself this way.
This smells like your usual bullshit, and I don't care what people who would
consider writing to you personally think of me. But - to play this tit for
tat - people who write to me (not offering me sympathy, because the people
who correspond with me realize that I neither need it nor appreciate it,
unlike the gadflies your bloated turd attracts), they tend to call you
stupid and common. I mention this, not to attack you, but to ask if you
perceive yourself this way.
> People perceive me as scrambled, inconsistent, silly, stupid, and
> sometimes cruel. I can live with almost everything on that list but
> cruel. It's something I keep trying to change, but it's very difficult to
> do. I mention this, because I'm assuming that you view your "pomposity"
> in a positive light, the same way I view my scrambled inconsistency in a
> positive light. Is this the case?
I do not consider myself pompous, and - to reiterate - couldn't care much
what others think of me. But it is a positive sign that you at least realize
that you are inconsistent and scrambled. The fact that you see these
attributes thermselves as positive is, perhaps, beneficial for your
consciousness, but problematical when it comes to any personal growth.>
> > If Nik has a problem with
> > people not liking the same films he dotes upon, I think that is a very
> > personal problem (quite in line however with all other manifestations of
> > Nikism), but it certainly isn't mine.
>
>
> Now you can gnaw on that bone, Dale. Tell me how they make better and
> more authentic superhero movies in France and Spain.
Your assumptions - aggressive and flatfooted as always - are - as usual off
base. I rather liked X-Men. So happens I read comics, and will pretty much
go see any film based on them, despite its quality. A tic of mine. This
doesn't inhibit me from criticizing the product. I think it is probably Tim
Burton who set the standard for this sort of fare, and not many have come up
to him. I found Mystery Men to be amusing and charming in its working class
viewpoint, and I really enjoyed Raimi's Dark Man, which is essentially the
same thing.
Nevertheless, it is not a very radical notion to say that European films
deal better with certain sorts of subject matter, such as poverty and
disease, and it is really strange that you find it so. Empires are often
sentimental about their afflictions. But you have revealed before that your
ability to comprehend the intricacies of film is limited - to be generous.
So maybe this is just par for your four-hole course?
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
> Strange thing is, some poets are bureaucrats. (Though I must demure, and say
> the people who say this - undoubtedly imaginary - haven't read too many
> bureaucratic documents). There is no "one way" that poets speak or write.
> And - if you read closely - you'd find that I don't write this way to
> everyone.
To be perfectly true to your form, you incessantly express yourself in a
particular manner -- to each individual lifeform in this usenet newsgroup
-- that reminds me of a manual expressing certain characteristics
necessary to operate a large piece of complicated machinery. And that was
an example. I don't see you limiting it to me. But it doesn't matter, I
suppose.
By the way, the people who write me email about you aren't fictional. But
this is hardly surprising. I'm quite willing to believe they write you
too. In ever silly squabble on usenet, people take sides in private, and
write the combatants and say, "Rah, rah, rah! You know, I can't be
bothered to join the fight, but..."
> I do not consider myself pompous, and - to reiterate - couldn't care much
> what others think of me.
How do you perceive yourself?
> But it is a positive sign that you at least realize
> that you are inconsistent and scrambled. The fact that you see these
> attributes thermselves as positive is, perhaps, beneficial for your
> consciousness, but problematical when it comes to any personal growth.
I'm reading an autobiography of Jung -- "Memories, Dreams, Reflections".
In the introduction, Jung is quoted as saying near the end of his life (in
some correspondence):
"Fate will have it -- and this has always been the case with me -- that
all the 'outer' aspects of my life should be accidental. Only what is
interior has proved to have substance and a determining value. As a
result, all memory of outer events has faded, and perhaps these 'outer'
experiences were never so very essential anyhow, or were so only in that
they coincided with phases of my inner development."
I tend to feel the same way myself. When someone gives great weight to
something like "factual accuracy" in their ordinary lives (as opposed to a
research paper), I groan and roll my eyes. To me the "story" is more
important, innovation, "entertainment", etc. It seems that the "story" is
what determines what is a fact anyway. Newspapers run what they know is a
"good story" and we repeat them by word of mouth. Eventually the "good
stories" become history.
And a story, to me, is an "internal" thing. We connect with stories that
express our internal features -- our archetypes.
> Your assumptions - aggressive and flatfooted as always - are - as usual off
> base.
My assumptions, as always, were expressed in the form of a joke. It
depresses me that you'd take them seriously.
> I found Mystery Men to be amusing and charming in its working class
> viewpoint, and I really enjoyed Raimi's Dark Man, which is essentially the
> same thing.
Are you as disappointed as I am that Raimi has discarded his earlier, more
gloomy work, and has gone on to do Xena, and things like it? Evil Dead
one and two were very important to me in my childhood. Classic gore, in a
slapstick style. Xena is just painful.
> But you have revealed before that your
> ability to comprehend the intricacies of film is limited - to be generous.
Didn't you just get through saying that I would be ridiculous if I were to
dislike people for disliking the movies I like? What is this, then, Dale?
I see no reason to mock my taste in films.
Have you seen "Magnolia"? Did you like it? How about "Happiness"?
cythera
>"Dale Houstman" (dm...@citilink.com) writes:
>By the way, the people who write me email about you aren't
>fictional. But this is hardly surprising. I'm quite willing
>to believe they write you too. In ever silly squabble on
>usenet, people take sides in private, and write the combatants
>and say, [...]"
Nik, that's a poverty of imagination that you should be able to
recognize. Not to mention the fact that you do your
correspondents no favors when you perpetuate that type of
response to what they read here. And, just _how_ many people do
you "need" as ears for your enclosed and circular dramas. (My
ultimate problem with them is that you seem to fail to overcome
them, or even to take the first halting step away from them).
A few days ago I wrote that I get email from people who don't
post to the group. For the most part, these people want to say
something about poetry. Often they talk about combining writing
with art or music. And, naturally enough, neither they nor I
has ever alluded to you. I say naturally enough because you
manifest little, if any, real interest in what you write or
paint. You don't talk about ideas or technique or inspiration
or anything to do with the creative process.
Dale Houstman
> "Dale Houstman" (dm...@citilink.com) writes:
> > Strange thing is, some poets are bureaucrats. (Though I must demure, and
say
> > the people who say this - undoubtedly imaginary - haven't read too many
> > bureaucratic documents). There is no "one way" that poets speak or
write.
> > And - if you read closely - you'd find that I don't write this way to
> > everyone.
>
> To be perfectly true to your form, you incessantly express yourself in a
> particular manner -- to each individual lifeform in this usenet newsgroup
> -- that reminds me of a manual expressing certain characteristics
> necessary to operate a large piece of complicated machinery. And that was
> an example. I don't see you limiting it to me. But it doesn't matter, I
> suppose.
Well - as a self-professed nihilist - nothing could matter to you. No
supposition necessary.
>
> By the way, the people who write me email about you aren't fictional. But
> this is hardly surprising. I'm quite willing to believe they write you
> too. In ever silly squabble on usenet, people take sides in private, and
> write the combatants and say, "Rah, rah, rah! You know, I can't be
> bothered to join the fight, but..."
Of course, but the point here is that it is you who brought up these "silly
squabblers" to support your unintelligent responses. As usual, you seem to
forget who brought up what point, and what the point was - if any. But - as
a nihilist - you can't be bothered of course.
>
> > I do not consider myself pompous, and - to reiterate - couldn't care
much
> > what others think of me.
>
> How do you perceive yourself?
Honestly: unlike you I am not so full of myself that I sit around asking
such questions of myself. I perceive myself through my actions, or
inactions. That is all that is important to me. When one gets into
self-analysis (a sickness of the age whose embolism is seen in every
bookstore), one is only bound to be trapped in reiterations of popular myths
about the "self" and in gratuitous defenses of that which should require no
defense.
>
>
> "Fate will have it -- and this has always been the case with me -- that
> all the 'outer' aspects of my life should be accidental. Only what is
> interior has proved to have substance and a determining value. As a
> result, all memory of outer events has faded, and perhaps these 'outer'
> experiences were never so very essential anyhow, or were so only in that
> they coincided with phases of my inner development."
Jung was very popular in the 60s, mainly due to his emphasis on universal
consciousness and primitive archetypes; both of which spoke to a growing
desire to both break away from the family (and its shadows in government, in
education, etc.) and to re-cogulating into new formations. Other than that,
I haven't much use for him.
>
> I tend to feel the same way myself. When someone gives great weight to
> something like "factual accuracy" in their ordinary lives (as opposed to a
> research paper), I groan and roll my eyes. To me the "story" is more
> important, innovation, "entertainment", etc. It seems that the "story" is
> what determines what is a fact anyway. Newspapers run what they know is a
> "good story" and we repeat them by word of mouth. Eventually the "good
> stories" become history.
I don't know who you are talking about (I guess yourself, and then the
subsequent projection on to that elusive "Everyone"), but newspapers have
never fascinated me as a source of good stories, and I rarely feel the urge
to repeat their inanities.
>
> My assumptions, as always, were expressed in the form of a joke. It
> depresses me that you'd take them seriously.
But jokes are serious. And you are not very good at them. These two factors
usually reduce what you (obviously) see as good humor to mere shallow
posturings.
>
> > I found Mystery Men to be amusing and charming in its working class
> > viewpoint, and I really enjoyed Raimi's Dark Man, which is essentially
the
> > same thing.
>
> Are you as disappointed as I am that Raimi has discarded his earlier, more
> gloomy work, and has gone on to do Xena, and things like it? Evil Dead
> one and two were very important to me in my childhood. Classic gore, in a
> slapstick style. Xena is just painful.
Well - I rather liked Xena! I don't know if it was the cheap thrills of
flesh, or the corn. But it struck me as very well-done emptiness. And - at
times - it manifested an attidue toward sexuality and other pleasures that
had some small merit, and revitalized the musical to some charming degree.
But - on the whole - it was probably watching that little pudding-faced
cutie who played Gabrielle that really made it bearable. I thought Raimi's
"A Simple Plan" was very effective and full of painfully good scenes. I hear
he made a baseball film that I missed, and I am not encouraged by the news I
hear from a friend. But his Western, "The Quick and the Dead" is very good
and full of sly homages (almost all films are now self-reflexive of the
industry, and one learns to look for good examples of that). And - of
course - I will go and see his "Spiderman" cause I'm just a sap for that
sort of thing. As far as his touch for manic action goes, it should be
called upon in such a film. One doesn't mind seeing creators try out new
approaches, but it is only when these test-runs turn into extended stays in
middle-ville that a certain ennui sets in. Jonathan Demme strikes me this
way. He used to have a very deft touch with quirky comedies, ala Preston
Sturges: but his success with "Silence of the Lumps" and then - even worse -
"Philadelphia" - appears to have permanently short-circuited his light
touch. Which is too bad, because so many bad comedies are produced, we could
use that sensibility.
>
> > But you have revealed before that your
> > ability to comprehend the intricacies of film is limited - to be
generous.
>
> Didn't you just get through saying that I would be ridiculous if I were to
> dislike people for disliking the movies I like? What is this, then, Dale?
> I see no reason to mock my taste in films.
I am not criticizing your approach to any particular film, and I am not
mocking you. I am stating my opinion of your "taste" founded upon your
posts. It strikes me that you have little regard for film, and little
ability to discern what makes a film work. You are welcome to prove me wrong
(or even to bring up those little e-mail sycophants to support your view if
you want), but let's just say (ala Nik) that it was all a joke, and take you
to task for being so serious about it.
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
> Of course, but the point here is that it is you who brought up these "silly
> squabblers" to support your unintelligent responses. As usual, you seem to
> forget who brought up what point, and what the point was - if any. But - as
> a nihilist - you can't be bothered of course.
My point was asking you if you perceive yourself as pompous. Whether or
not the people who write me email on this subject are accurate or not is
up for debate. I was curious whether you see yourself that way. So it
was nice to see you address this point, sort of, in the following:
> Honestly: unlike you I am not so full of myself that I sit around asking
> such questions of myself. I perceive myself through my actions, or
> inactions. That is all that is important to me. When one gets into
> self-analysis (a sickness of the age whose embolism is seen in every
> bookstore), one is only bound to be trapped in reiterations of popular myths
> about the "self" and in gratuitous defenses of that which should require no
> defense.
Isn't looking at your actions or inactions a form of self-analysis? I
fail to see any distinction between it and self-analysis in any case.
Presumably you could determine whether or not you are pompous by looking
at your own actions, and the flavour and mood they take on. Are you
capable of reading your own words as though they were from a stranger? Do
they come across as pompous, arrogant?
> Jung was very popular in the 60s, mainly due to his emphasis on universal
> consciousness and primitive archetypes; both of which spoke to a growing
> desire to both break away from the family (and its shadows in government, in
> education, etc.) and to re-cogulating into new formations. Other than that,
> I haven't much use for him.
I figured you wouldn't like him much. He was openly a mystic and a
Christian. I find a lot of what he says quite useful. Of course, I'm
openly a mystic and sympathetic with (most) Christians.
> But jokes are serious. And you are not very good at them.
Actually, I'm quite good with jokes. I have a great sense of humour. My
wit is one of my best tools. This isn't bragging on my part -- I've seen
my humor make people laugh. I've had friends say they wished they had my
wit.
I don't know why you can't perceive my humour, but you are one of the most
serious people I have ever seen online. You hardly ever crack a smile, it
seems, and when you do make a "joke" it's inevitably an attack against
someone else. Some derogatory "Nik is a stupid idiot" bit of fluff that
amuses you and maybe Brandon. I think this is what contributes to the
impression people get that you're "pompous" -- the serious surrealist tone
you maintain non-stop.
But you're write, sometimes jokes are serious. When I made the crack
about how you'd say they make better superhero movies in France, I was
mocking what I see as an intellectual pose. "Foreign films are so much
better," say the children dressed in black.
> Well - I rather liked Xena! I don't know if it was the cheap thrills of
> flesh, or the corn. But it struck me as very well-done emptiness.
I see it as tits and swords and little else. To each their own, I
suppose. Then there's the half-dozen Xena copies that came out, each
featuring buxom women running around in revealing clothing. Cheesecake
has never particularly appealed to me. Way I figure it, if you want tits,
watch porn.
> I am not criticizing your approach to any particular film, and I am not
> mocking you. I am stating my opinion of your "taste" founded upon your
> posts. It strikes me that you have little regard for film, and little
> ability to discern what makes a film work. You are welcome to prove me wrong
I don't think it's possible to prove one has "good taste". All I can do
is talk about the films I've enjoyed and why. Something I've already been
doing.
I do find it funny when you go on about your love for European films,
though. It sounds like such an intellectual pose. All the "cool kids"
love foreign films and hate Hollywood. But we've had this conversation
before, as I recall. You said that not all of Hollywood bored you, just
most of it. I actually feel the same way.
Nikolaus Maack
> Nik, that's a poverty of imagination that you should be able to
> recognize. Not to mention the fact that you do your
> correspondents no favors when you perpetuate that type of
> response to what they read here. And, just _how_ many people do
> you "need" as ears for your enclosed and circular dramas.
As usual, Cythera, you're reading way too much into my statements. Some
people write me and say Dale is pompous. That's not all they say. I have
some semi-regular correspondences with these people about art and poetry
and writing and what have you. Also, whether or not Dale is pompous -- or
whether it even matters -- is all open to debate. I just thought I'd ask
Dale what he thinks about it.
Having been on computer networks since the age of 16, I've seen this sort
of pattern before: The regulars form teams and fight. Outsiders watch,
no telling how many, and they occasionally offer bits of advice. "Go get
'em tiger!" is usually what it amounts to. People then say, "I get email
from fans all the time!" and it turns into a popularity contest.
If you think alt.surrealism is somehow special, well, it isn't. At least
not on this particular topic.
I didn't intend to start up one of these tired old cycles, but it seems I
have, by accident. I just wanted to let Dale know that there's an
impression that he's pompous and arrogant. I doubt it came to him as a
surprise that people see him that way. Who knows? Maybe it did. Oh well.
> I say naturally enough because you
> manifest little, if any, real interest in what you write or
> paint. You don't talk about ideas or technique or inspiration
> or anything to do with the creative process.
You spend almost every single day in this newsgroup talking about me.
Every so often you swear you'll ignore me and then you don't. Dale and
Brandon and even Barrett feel the need to leap forward and "correct" my
impressions of surrealism. When I left the group for a month, I'm told
everyone here kept talking about me. And you say I don't generate any
interest?
I don't talk about ideas or technique or inspiration? Only recently I
posted about Jung's active imagination, the fool, archetypes, Robert A.
Johnson, etc, etc. I've posted poetry, dreams, and automatic writing.
Sometimes I just talk about whatever's going on in my life, as a sort of
urge to get others to do the same.
Perhaps none of what I've touched on interests you, but that's not the
same thing as being content free.
Once again, Cythera, I'm left with this feeling that when you're talking
to me, you're actually arguing with someone else, someone from your past,
someone that you have a lot of unresolved issues with. It would at least
help explain why you keep seeing things in me that clearly aren't there,
and why you keep talking to me. If I had to guess, I'd say there was some
kind of awful relationship in your past, and you see me as similar to your
former lover.
That's pure speculation on my part and highly unscientific. Oh well.
Forgive me. I've been reading a great deal about the anima and the aniums
lately.
Please understand that when you respond to this message with the threat of
ignoring me from now on, I'll have some difficulty believing you. For
whatever reason, you seem incapable of ignoring me. Perhaps this is an
aspect of your psyche that you should investigate?
johnqadamsiii
-- that all the 'outer' aspects of my life should be
accidental. Only what is interior has proved to have substance
and a determining value. As a result, all memory of
outer events has faded, and perhaps these 'outer' experiences
were never so very essential anyhow, or were so only
in that they coincided with phases of my inner development.">>
This is akin, as we all here know, to the old mystical addage:
"the universe is mental".
john
cythera
>cythera (cyt...@my-deja.com) writes:
>You spend almost every single day in this newsgroup talking
>about me.
I suppose this is your fantasy, Nik.
>Every so often you swear you'll ignore me and then you don't.
>Dale and Brandon and even Barrett feel the need to leap
>forward and "correct" my impressions of surrealism.
I won't go into your hyperbolic language, which as usual
carries the misrepresentations and groupie-ism one has come to
expect. But, as you are (or were) a self-professed nihilist,
what difference do we make to you.
>When I left the group for a month, I'm told everyone here kept
>talking about me. And you say I don't generate any
>interest?
You continue to view what we say in rebuttal as personal. A
mistake.
>I don't talk about ideas or technique or inspiration?
No. You show none of the signs of being a poet or artist. And
you couldn't handle it if you did feel it.
cythera
cythera
>gottestod (gott...@my-deja.com) writes:
>> [:::::never confuse movement with action::::]
>
>"Don't just do something, stand there."
>
>I read that in a very thin, highly fluffy book by Robert A.
>Johnson called "Contentment". A little more than 100 pages,
>with a lot of goofy new age mystical exercises and thoughts.
>Still, it's interesting to read.
>
>It's fascinating how many people have forgotten how to not do
>something.
You're writing to a person who might be from Germany, and who
is interested in surrealism, and this is all you have to say?
Boring git.
gottestod
"george" <digi_c...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
> Your comment about reading reminds me of a friends dad who saw me
with a
> book,
> Thomas Mann's "The Magic Mountain" incidentally, and he said that I
was a
> poof for reading.
> He also said that people who read are obviously stupid as they are
always
> reading to catch up with
> other naturally intelligent individuals. And he wasn't being ironic.
He
> really is a big fat bigoted Sun reading arsehole. The average person
really
> is a shit head, aren't they.
*lol* I find it wonderfully ironic that you were attacked by a bigot
while carrying a copy of Thomas Mann's "The Magic Mountain."
It's like people can sense their whole concept of life are under attack
while being blissfully ignorant of what the assailant is. ;)
--
[:gottestod:] not for everybody [:]
[:site/url:] http://www.gottestod.com [:]
[:email:]g0tt...@h0tmail.com #nozeros [:]
[:::::never confuse movement with action::::]
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
Nikolaus Maack
> [:::::never confuse movement with action::::]
"Don't just do something, stand there."
I read that in a very thin, highly fluffy book by Robert A. Johnson called
"Contentment". A little more than 100 pages, with a lot of goofy new age
mystical exercises and thoughts. Still, it's interesting to read.
It's fascinating how many people have forgotten how to not do something.
Once I was watching my boss / roommate storm around the house like a loon,
running from one chore to the other, frantic as a bee caught inside a
balloon.
"I learned this trick from a friend the other day," I called out to her.
"You might like to try it. What you do is sit down, in a chair, and then
comes the tricky part -- don't do anything. Just sit there. It's really
neat. You might like it."
She looked at me with a pained misery and said, "I can't do that. I'd
like to do it, but I can't."
Which I thought was kind of sad.
brandon...@my-deja.com
> Having been on computer networks since the age of 16, I've seen this
> sort of pattern before: The regulars form teams and fight.
> Outsiders watch, no telling how many, and they occasionally offer
> bits of advice. "Go get 'em tiger!" is usually what it amounts to.
> People then say, "I get email from fans all the time!" and it turns
> into a popularity contest.
Since you were sixteen? So, you've been harrassing newsgroups for a
good while now. Do you get off on it? Maybe there is a support group.
> I didn't intend to start up one of these tired old cycles ...
Yes you did you stupid fuck.
> Dale and Brandon and even Barrett feel the need to leap forward
> and "correct" my impressions of surrealism.
It is called COMMUNICATING ... you just can't deal with it.
> When I left the group for a month, I'm told everyone here kept
> talking about me. And you say I don't generate any interest?
I don't remember this month. Where was I?
> Once again, Cythera, I'm left with this feeling that when you're
> talking to me, you're actually arguing with someone else, someone
> from your past, someone that you have a lot of unresolved issues
> with.
Or perhaps by BELIEVING that she is you're PROTECTING yourself from the
undeniable FACT that you're a complete ASSHOLE.
> That's pure speculation on my part and highly unscientific.
No its not. Your just protecting your weak ego.
brandon...@my-deja.com
> Actually, I'm quite good with jokes.
Shut up.
Dale Houstman
<brandon...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:8mtspd$8jn$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> Nikolaus Maack wrote:
> > Actually, I'm quite good with jokes.
>
> Shut up.
>
dmh
Nikolaus Maack
[I've been on computer networks since the age of 16]
> Since you were sixteen? So, you've been harrassing newsgroups for a
> good while now. Do you get off on it? Maybe there is a support group.
I started off on FIDOnet BBSes as a teenager. Those systems were pretty
local, back then, with a few "newsgroup" feeds to the USA. A locally
posted message sometimes took days to reach the other end of the network.
I hit the Internet at age 25, when I got to my later years of university.
A few years after that, the Internet became a household word, and here we
are today, exchanging information and pissing on each other. No one can
stop progress, not even with a pitchfork.
By the way, I don't get off on harrassing newsgroups. What turns my crank
is chicks who mock me. Nothing gets me harder than a wench who says, "Why
don't you go away?" I could listen to a chick with an attitude all day
long. It really knocks the cork out of my champagne bottle, kicks the
honey out of my hive, and slurps the gingerale through my straw.
Know where I can find such a hot little cutie?
>> I didn't intend to start up one of these tired old cycles ...
>
> Yes you did you stupid fuck.
I can tell you were on the debating team in your high school.
Unfortunately your high school was in a seedy part of town, and the
debates took place in the back alley with switchblades.
"Yeah, let it be fuckin' argued that Eddie is a fuckin' sunuvabitch!"
"I would like to start this fuckin' debate by saying that Eddie is a scag
shooting motherfucker. Let me emphasize my fuckin' point by cutting off
his fuckin' dick with a broken beer bottle."
cythera
cythera
lived in _San Francisco_ for 13 years.
You make me ill.
brandon...@my-deja.com
> I can tell you were on the debating team in your high school.
> Unfortunately your high school was in a seedy part of town, and the
> debates took place in the back alley with switchblades.
Spoken like someone with, not only an empty mind, but also an empty one.
Dale Houstman
<brandon...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:8n0222$t20$1...@nnrp1.deja.com...
> Nikolaus Maack wrote:
> > I can tell you were on the debating team in your high school.
> > Unfortunately your high school was in a seedy part of town, and the
> > debates took place in the back alley with switchblades.
>
> Spoken like someone with, not only an empty mind, but also an empty one.
>
But I hear the echoes are magnificent at twilight, and the ducks like the
moisture.
dmh
Parry
> > I saw the film "The Other Sister" tonight, totally by chance. It's a very
> > moving, beautiful, romantic film.
>
> who have forgotten what film is, and just want to be comforted by the fact
> with other such Tinsel Town squeeze-outs like Gump and Rain Man. At some
> point in every actor's life they want to play a physically or mentally
> challenged person (it's become a cinema cliche), because it usually garners
> great gushes of "real feeling" from critics, and is relatively proof against
> negative reviews (you don't want to pick on the handicapped after all.)
> European film usually have handled these things with more honesty
> (especially the Italian "realists" like De Sica), dispensing with the
> falseness and showing us how society really treats those who "fall behind."
Your comments about realism brought to mind one of my favorite texts on
film, Buñuel’s 1953 address given at the University of Mexico. It’s
interesting to compare Buñuel’s description of the state of world cinema
in 1953 against the current American film empire -- most of what he said
still applies -- so I’ll include the text below in case anyone is
interested.
Buñuel subscribed to a theory of social realism (quoting Engels:
creating “an accurate portrait of authentic social relations [to
destroy] the conventional view of the nature of those relations,” etc.)
with the important stipulation that poetry (“all that completes and
enlarges tangible reality”) is indispensable. Italian neo-realism stood
for something a bit different than this, as it carried the trappings of
style and had the weakness of sentimentality.
-- Parry
--------------------------
POETRY AND CINEMA
Text of an address delivered by Luis Buñuel at the University of Mexico
in 1953.
Octavio Paz said once that “A chained man need only shut his eyes to
make the world explode.” Paraphrasing him, I would say that the white
eye of the screen need only reflect the light that is properly its own
to blow up the universe. But, for the time being, we can sleep easily,
for the cinemagraphic light that reaches us is carefully filtered and
metered. In none of the traditional arts is there so great a
disproportion between potential and achievement as in the cinema. A film
acts directly upon the spectator, presenting him with concrete people
and things; in the silence and darkness of the theater, it isolates him
from what we might call his normal psychic habitat. For these reasons,
it can stimulate him more effectively than any other form of human
expression. It can also more effectively stultify him. The bulk of
current film production seems, unfortunately, to have this as its
mission, and the screens of our film houses daily parade evidence of the
moral and intellectual void in which the cinema is wallowing. The fact
is that the cinema limits itself to imitating the novel or the stage --
but with this difference: that as a medium it is less richly endowed
with the means of psychological expression. It is repeating ad nauseam
the same old stories that the nineteenth century had already wearied of
telling but that nonetheless drone on in the modern novel.
A moderately cultivated man would toss aside a book based on any one of
the subjects that make up the plots of our biggest films. Yet that same
man, comfortably seated in a dark theater, is dazzled by a light and
movement that exert an almost hypnotic power over him; he is fascinated
by the faces of people and by the rapid shifts of scene, so that he
placidly accepts the film bromides, no matter how stale.
The filmgoer is robbed of an important share of his critical faculties
by this lulling influence. I will give one concrete example -- Detective
Story. The structure of the story is perfect; the director is excellent,
the actors exceptional, the production original. But all this talent,
all this know-how, all the complicated steps involved in producing a
film have been devoted to a story that in content is both stupid and
remarkably low in moral caliber. It makes me think of that extraordinary
machine in Opus 11; it is a gigantic apparatus made of the finest grade
of steel; it has a thousand complex gears, tubes, manometers, levers; it
is engineered as precisely as a watch, but on the scale of an ocean
liner; its sole function is to postmark the mail.
The essential element in any work of art is mystery, and generally this
is lacking in films. Authors, directors, and producers take great pains
not to disturb our peace of mind, and they keep the marvelous window of
the screen closed to the liberating world of poetry. They would rather
have that screen reflect subjects that could perfectly well be sequels
to our everyday life; they prefer that it repeat over and over the same
hackneyed drama to make us forget the tedium of our daily work. Their
approach is, of course, sanctioned by conventional morality, official
censorship, and religion; it is ruled by good taste, and seasoned with
an innocuous humor together with all the other prosaic imperatives of
reality.
Anyone who is eager to see good films will rarely be satisfied by the
big expensive productions or by those that have won critical praise or
wide popular acceptance. The personal story, the private individual
drama, cannot, in my opinion, interest anyone who is truly alive to the
contemporary world. If the spectator shares in the joys, sorrows, and
anguish of a character on the screen, it can only be because he sees in
that character the reflection of the joys, sorrows, and anguish of
society as a whole and, by extension, his own. Unemployment, the
instability of society, the fear of war, and so on -- these are the
things that affect all men today and, accordingly, they affect the
spectator. But that Mr. So-and-So is not happy at home and casts about
for a girl friend to provide him some fun, and that he then abandons her
to return to his self-sacrificing spouse -- all this is unquestionably
moral and edifying but it leaves us completely indifferent.
Sometimes that which is the essence of cinema springs unexpectedly from
an otherwise insipid movie -- a slapstick comedy, or a banal romantic
film. Man Ray once said something very significant: “The worst movies
I've ever seen in my life, the kind that put me sound asleep, always
have five minutes that are marvelous. But the best, the most highly
praised films, have barely five minutes that are even worthwhile.” What
this means is that in all films, good or bad -- and beyond and despite
the intentions of directors -- cinematic poetry struggles to come to the
surface and reveal itself.
In the hands of a free spirit the cinema is a magnificent and dangerous
weapon. It is the superlative medium through which to express the world
of thought, feeling, and instinct. The creative handling of film images
is such that, among all means of human expression, its way of
functioning is most reminiscent of the work of the mind during sleep. A
film is like an involuntary imitation of a dream. Brunius* points out
how the darkness that slowly settles over a movie theater is equivalent
to the act of closing the eyes. Then, on the screen, as within the human
being, the nocturnal voyage into the unconscious begins. The device of
fading allows images to appear and disappear as in a dream; time and
space become flexible, shrinking and expanding at will; chronological
order and the relative values of time duration no longer correspond to
reality, cyclical action can last a few minutes or several centuries;
shifts from slow motion to accelerated motion heighten the impact of
each.
The cinema seems to have been invented to express the life of the
subconscious, the roots of which penetrate poetry so deeply. Yet it is
almost never used to do this. Among modern film trends,+ the best known
is the so-called neorealism. The neorealistic film offers the spectator
what seem to be moments from real life, involving real people caught as
they move about the street, and having even authentic scenery and
interiors. With some exceptions, among which I would single out Bicycle
Thief, neorealism has done nothing to spark what is properly and
characteristically cinematic -- I mean the mysterious and the fantastic.
What is the point of all the visual dressing up if the situations, the
motives that animate the characters, their reactions, and even the plots
themselves are drawn or copied from the most sentimental, conformist
literature? The most worthwhile contribution -- and it comes not from
neorealism generally but from Zavattini ** specifically -- is the
raising of a humdrum act to the level of dramatic action. In Umberto D,
one of the most interesting of the neorealistic films, an entire
ten-minute reel is devoted to showing a maid go through a series of
actions that only a short while ago no one would have considered worthy
of being filmed. We see the maid go into the kitchen, light the fire,
put on a casserole, throw water several times on some ants that are
advancing Indian file across the wall, take the temperature of an
elderly man who feels feverish. Despite the trivial side of the
situation, we follow her movements with interest and even with a certain
suspense.
Neorealism has introduced a few elements to enrich the language of
cinematic expression, but nothing more. Neorealistic reality is
incomplete, conventional, and above all, rational. The poetry, the
mystery, all that completes and enlarges tangible reality, is utterly
lacking. Neorealism confuses ironic fantasy with the fantastic and the
grotesque.
“The most admirable thing about the fantastic,” André Breton has said,
“is that the fantastic does not exist; everything is real.” I was
talking with Zavattini some months ago, and I said to him that I was not
in sympathy with neorealism. Since we were lunching together, the first
illustration that came to mind was a glass of wine. For a neorealist, I
said, a glass is a glass and nothing more. We see it being taken from
the sideboard, being filled with wine, carried presently to the kitchen
where the maid will wash it, or maybe she will break it, which will
result in her being fired or in her not being fired, and so on. But this
same glass, seen by different human beings, can be a thousand different
things, because each person pours a certain dose of subjective feeling
into what he is looking at, because no one sees things as they are but
as his desires and his state of mind make him see them. I am fighting
for the kind of film that will make me see this kind of glass, for it is
this kind of cinema that will give me a total vision of reality, enlarge
my knowledge of things and of people, and open to me the marvelous world
of the unknown, of everything that I do not find in any newspaper or on
any street.
Do not think from what I have just said that I am for a cinema
exclusively dedicated to the expression of the fantastic and mysterious,
for a cinema that flees from or despises daily reality and aspires only
to plunge us into the unconscious world of dreams. A few moments ago I
indicated all too briefly the capital importance I attach to the film
that deals with the fundamental problems of modern man, and so I must
emphasize here that I do not consider man in isolation, not as a single
case, but in the context of his relationships with other men. I will let
Friedrich Engels speak for me. He defines the function of the novelist
(and here read film maker) thus: “The novelist will have acquitted
himself honorably of his task when, by means of an accurate portrait of
authentic social relations, he will have destroyed the conventional view
of the nature of those relations, shattered the optimism of the
bourgeois world, and forced the reader to question the permanency of the
prevailing order, and this even if the author does not offer us any
solutions, even if he does not clearly take sides.”
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