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Sunday, July 6th, 2014
10:30 am - Fragment
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Sunday, June 29th, 2014
7:09 pm - Bizarre TV and other things
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Thursday, November 21st, 2013
7:10 pm - Giallo

Back to watching the 1970's Italian Giallo-type movies. It's been days since I've gotten the renewed interest, after a few weeks' Jess Franco mini-fest. Oh, the sounds and pictures in my head!

Listening to talk radio recently, I heard someone make an analogy to watching an action movie. It's what you get out of it that matters. Watching an action movie, you may be totally engrossed, on the edge of your seat with eyes glued to the screen, watching gunfights, car chases, explosions, etc., whatever it may be; and this is plenty. You enjoy it, then it's over. The next day, you may not even remember the plot. You may remember a lot about it, and you may have fond memories and remember that you enjoyed yourself, but why was all of that happening again? The plot was a vehicle to show you what the movie had to show you. What you get out of it is what matters.

Well, it's much the same to me with Gialli. You may find them classified as mysteries, and that's pretty much the vehicle to show what the movie has to show. I'm generally not big on mysteries:

I'll watch and pay attention, hanging on details trying to figure out some puzzle. Whether I figure it out before all is revealed or not matters little, because I generally expect to be shown the solution at the end. And after that, who cares? Mystery solved, and I guess it's time to move on to the next one? What of repeat viewings? I know the answer already. To a certain extent, isn't it spoiled? There has to be much more available to me in order to really enjoy myself. In fact, watching a more general mystery, I just kind of watch the picture and listen to the sound, as there's not much reason to follow it very closely. The solution will be revealed, and unless there's something that's of particular interest, it kind of feels that I'm wasting my time.

With a good Giallo, it's going to be pretty to watch. Great audio and visuals. Beautiful women, high fashion and art, fascinating sets, wonderful music and really stylized cinematography and camerawork. There'll be nudity, sex, and murders carried out in interesting and stunning ways. All of this is blended in orchestra with a mystery plot that's often more alluring in its details than intriguing as a whole in summary. Sometimes, the solution to the mystery is so anti-climactic that it's just a sign to tell you the movie has wound down and it's time to go to bed. But you'll go to bed with such sights and sounds fresh in your mind that they creep into your dreams and make that interesting as well. That's a good movie. And the next day, I may not even remember the plot very well, but no matter. It's what I got out of it that counts.

Typed while listening to Ennio Morricone - Crime And Dissonance



current mood: amused

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Monday, September 30th, 2013
4:16 pm - Crypticon 2013 - And The Largish Haul
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current mood: drunk

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Tuesday, December 14th, 2010
11:22 pm - Beginning The Transcription...
So, going through the old notebooks, I find little notes I made that cause me to try and remember what was happening back then. I came across a scribble: "Foniks". I think "Foniks" was a name we had for some kind of zine or writing thing Kris and I had going. Then there was something else called "Virus". This notebook I'm starting with has transcriptions from another notebook that fell apart from heavy wear; not from age, just from wear or perhaps over self consciousness. Who knows? It was April of 1993 when I began that transcription.

Documentation is interesting, I think. I have dates here. Real freaking history! Don't know how much of the stuff I'll actually post here. So far this is just an account of this transcription thing.

current mood: drunk

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8:45 am
Chances are good that I'll be visiting here often and even posting in the near future. Uncovered old handwritten notebooks and journals.

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

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Sunday, March 9th, 2008
8:54 am
I keep returning to that same old bookstore. It keeps getting bigger and I wonder where they're getting all of these books. Who's selling them? 

I was there, I'd found a few books on European Cult Cinema I'd never seen before, and have no idea how I didn't know about them previously. This is the magic of this store, I end up in one of the cubbyholes; sitting there, my legs covered in books, keeping a running count of how much its all going to cost. I know I can't afford all of these books scattered on and around me, and next time I come here there will be a completely different lot of books, I'll only be able to afford a few of them. And this one I'm leaving behind today, I may never see again; though while I'm holding it, I can feel its importance. This is despair, and I think about how much of it is pointless consumerism.

One of the books that was left behind contained some disturbing photographs, and I read some of the accompanying text, but can't remember. Human torture; someone plastered into a wall while under sedation. an incision around a man's collar. someone reaching in with thier hands to pull flesh away from bone, and inserting a large metal coil around his skeletal abdomen.

Later, at home this torture is covered in video in some documentary on television. The narration sounds like it might be Richard Stanley. Watching the video is more than just disturbing. There's something resembling fear at the back of my mind. Its as if there's something I know... Somebody wants to go outside, this is allowed, but pointless. We run out the front door, down the old wooden steps of the porch and out around the cornfield. Its a bright day, and the weather is very comfortable. Even making it out beyond the cornfield, there will be no one. I doubt we'll ever find somebody.  

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Saturday, January 19th, 2008
8:14 pm
I can't really see the city. I've never seen fog as dense as this. Its dead downtown; not a person on the street except for the hot dog vendor, my friend and I. Its warehouses and a parking ramp surrounding us as we walk to the night club, and I wonder if it's the only club in the city. Before we enter, my friend tells me to take off my cap, as this place has a dress code. Some thuggish guy waves us into the club, which is laid out quite nicely with a long curved bar and staircase leading to a mezzanine level. There's a lot of open space, and only about six guys who are coated in cologne and dressed in probably their best clothes. Each one of them seems to be alone, standing at the bar nursing a drink. We walk up and stand next to one of them, and then some woman enters the club and most of the men leave the bar and surround her. I know I'd better keep my mouth shut in here.

My friend and I don't have much to talk about, anyway. He moved out here about a year ago and I haven't seen him since. I can tell he's uncomfortable, but I'm following my own path and keeping my mouth shut. I shoot him a glance as if to ask, "Why the hell did you bring me here?" and then I excuse myself to visit the restroom. Once I'm in there I'm greeted by a large ex-convict looking fellow in a big shiny suit. My friend has warned me about the restroom, but I forgot. This guy; the type I wouldn't want to even look at under normal circumstances wants to dispense soap into my hands and run the water for me. He offers me a breath mint and some complimentary cologne. This is very intimidating, so I'm as graceful as possible when I refuse and I make sure to tip him before turning to leave.

When I get back to my friend, he's got drinks waiting for us. It's my token beer and his fruity liquor concoction with cream; I tell him we're making this a quick one because I really want to get out of here. So we walk around for awhile, and because a woman or two has shown up, a small crowd has formed in the middle of the dance floor. I want to check out the mezzanine, but being as I am a bit perturbed by what's happening down here, I'm worried about what I might find in the upper level's more private atmosphere. I just want to get out, gulping on my beer.

Upon exiting the club, my friend stops at the hot dog vendor and buys a steaming white hot dog and slathers it with yellow mustard. He tells me not to tell his wife about it or she won't kiss him for a week. I'm having so much fun that I don't care how many of my urges are supressed.

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Tuesday, November 27th, 2007
7:51 pm - I fucked up again.

I'm sick of banks. I cannot tell you how much I've given to them for how little I get. This is past the point where if I got it all back, not only would I be able to pay off all debts, but I'd be able to live off the rest of it for awhile. I'm so fucking pissed! Having problems at work, and I found out today that my Black Emanuelle's Box 2 was supposedly delivered last Wednesday... and I didn't get it!

I'm living as frugal a lifestyle as I have in years now. I could be doing better at it, but it's a work in progress and I see no improvement. Not yet anyway. Turns me into a freaking maniac. I really want to just piss off for a few days. Sit here and do nothing, I'd have more to show for the time I spend.

There has to be some escape. I'm too upset to plot it right now anyway. Two more bottles of water and two packs of cigarettes are in order. Maybe I should try cutting that out too. $120 a month would go a long way.

So this is just after I found out that I've overdrawn my account again. No way to tell how bad it's going to be. Another $150 maybe?

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Friday, September 14th, 2007
3:04 pm
Sitting alone in the one bedroom, you wonder about the people around and where you stand in thier minds. It's troubling to you that you're the Jeffrey Dahmer; living in your own filth among soiled magazine centerfolds and empty bottles. The occasional quick smile from the woman who lives down the hallway, who's attention and actions accellerate to getting the door unlocked and in to safety. She doesn't like the smells that surround you; she's wary of your wardrobe, the entirety of which was purchased one day at Walmart.

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Tuesday, August 21st, 2007
8:30 pm
I come home to this everyday:




Though people are normally impressed by the size of my video collection, they find a library like this daunting. Especially when they haven't heard of most of what's there. No familiar territory makes things difficult.

The years I've spent hunting down these things... sure there's a lot of crap to sift through, but you never know what you may find. How I'd love to share these freakish wonders! Then maybe sleep afterward.

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Wednesday, July 25th, 2007
9:09 pm
I'm not the kind of man
who's known for associating
with people who've had accidents
at the tanning salon.

But I do know that
when one of my loved ones
is run down by some fucker
in a pickup truck
that it fails to matter
whether the incident
was intentional

Now, I don't care
what you may be afraid of,
but you'd better not
under any circumstances
try to relocate that fear
into the minds of masses of people
who rely on your fearful judgment
to know the meaning of their existence.

I'd rather you die
and leave those masses
to wander about
like they've been sprinkled
with zombie powder.

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Monday, July 23rd, 2007
7:07 pm - Depressions got a hold on me
i think i realize now why i gave the shit up. the shock of a bullshit mundane lifestyle that's not given to me but shoved down my throat and up my ass at the same time. what may be expected of me? what the fuck to you expect? well it better be that after awhile even fucking someone in the ass with whatever strikes your fancy will get boring, and it'll be time to walk away and find something else disgusting to keep you entertained.
well i'd give you some advice, but you wouldn't understand.

it happened. i kept myself busy the entire busride with a very mundane and involved game of tetris. well, i shut it down and the world fell in.
oh i wish you'd put on that apron you used to wear and cook me up some pasta.

more cigarettes and liquor i want

i want at least 25 million after taxes and i'm sick of waiting

or just feeling able to dance or run or swim

or sleep comfortably again

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Wednesday, July 4th, 2007
8:44 pm - Gifts!
My brother and his crew came back from Europe with gifts!

How exciting are the filtered Lucky Strikes!?! The unofficial word on Lucky Strike Filters in the US is that they've been discontinued. About a year after stores stopped stocking them I received a letter from RJ Reynolds in the mail. It was on Lucky Strike letterhead and went on about how my brand was been discontinued. Apparently, RJ Reynolds bought out Brown & Williamson, discontinued production of their Lucky Strike filters, then sent letters to all of thier known smokers encouraging us to try Camel filters.
After a year of not being able to buy my favorite cigarettes, I'm finally informed that they've been discontinued? What's the use of that?

Also brought me a few bad looking French Horror DVDs:

I can't wait to check these out. Of course I have to convert them over to NTSC(0) in order to watch them, but they're new free movies! Then it looks like they're US movies dubbed to French with no subtitles... Oh well. Been meaning to pick up the language.

Parents stopped by today unexpectedly. I'd just woken up and was slightly hungover, jittery and smelly. Haven't done anything today except sit in front of the computer and TV. I watched "Class of 1999", which I hadn't seen in years.

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Wednesday, May 9th, 2007
8:34 pm
My day is progressing happily. I know because of the thread of motivation I have. This is all accented by the memory of reading Bob Flannigan on the bus the other day. The hammering of his penis and all of the blood really made me squirm. This is affirmation of being alive after all. On the bus, the morning people blabbering away, and there I was squirming, turning my face away from this book, but continuing out of the corner of my eye, quietly exclaiming my disgust, and most likely nobody noticed. Got a view of myself I don't often see.

There is weakness in me. There is disease and unease, but also the most profound sense of beauty. I'm sure there's a combination of pills that would clear it all up, but I haven't taken it. And with this in mind, I installed my air conditioner. I turned the power on, and dust and bits of matter blew into my face. This didn't matter, because I knew that I'll be so aroused when I get out of the shower walking nude into the brisk living room and the dust and chunks will no longer be there to make my nose itch that I just smirked. Those dust and chunks may as well have never existed along with so much undesirable refuse I've disposed of.

Realization that my job hasn't destroyed me. That I can still speak my mind in the real world with no fear of being persecuted or challenged. That all of my conditioning efforts haven't been a waste. There is value here, it being non-negotiable means very little in the grandest way.

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Sunday, May 6th, 2007
2:34 am
I shouldn't have gone to the bar. Was shitty. Could've continued capturing video, but was distracted and it all sounded good, so off I went... to unexpected fucking hip hop night.

My bathroom was in the process of being cleaned. It's still at the beginning of being cleaned, but it ain't happening tonight.

Went to the big porn rental shop today. I was looking for some good Something Weird or Alpha Blue Archives DVDs. They seem to have gotten rid of all of that. So if you'd care to imagine a library of porn videos... thousands of titles, but none from the 70s. Kind of like a regular video store these days. 80% of what's there is what's been released in the last 5 years.
An ideal situation would be to find 2 or 3 cool looking adult films to rent, plus more I'd go back some other time and check out. A satisfactory situation would be to find 1 good adult film and rent it along with a few of the better looking other porn videos in the shop. I found nothing. I went away empty-handed. Just like everything else I'm into, if I want to see the movie, I'll have to buy it online in order to see or hear it.
This is really annoying by the way. I'm really sick of not being able to go out and find anything new. I'm confined to the internet here. This is my means of entertainment. It's becoming my only means of entertainment.

I should be going to sleep. I switched over to Pabst Blue Ribbon. I didn't know how into drinking I'd be, so I went for a six pack of tall boys.

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Saturday, April 7th, 2007
12:06 am
My drinking is stupid. Got home at around 6:30, laid in bed thinking until I fell asleep. All of the beer made me tired. Woke up at 10:30 groggy and slightly sickly.
"Grindhouse" fulfilled my expectations. I got emotional in the theater, just because it was all so beautiful. I was in awe. I'm going to have to go again.
Also, the second floor at the Highland theater was a much better choice than some shitty multiplex theater. I'd have liked if they'd taken out the music videos and movie trivia before the movie and just shown the old oil bubbles reels from back when I used to see movies there. Also, taken out the trailers for the bullshit movies that are coming out.
I'm absolutely serious when I talk about tv, commercials, radio, most modern music, just the media altogether for the most part being really mentally taxing. It's hard to accept that this is normality, this is the condition that dominates people's minds and people seem to welcome the mind fuck. I see so much beauty in the world, and then somebody turns on the tv or starts talking and it's really disheartening. I don't know, maybe I'm oversensitive.
That might help explain the drinking.

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Tuesday, April 3rd, 2007
6:18 pm - Some fucking fucker splashed me with dirty salty streetwater!
If you're in the Twin Cities today, you probably know the weather's shitty; just cold enough where the rain turns to snow, and the wind downtown suckles ass.
Well, I was down there, crossing the bridge when some fucker in a pick-up truck splashed the shit on me. Grey water dripping off my face and all down the front of my coat. Whether or not it was intentional matters little when you're the end result.
...And though I try not to let things like this ruin my day, I wonder how my day would have been effected had I a rock in my hand.
For some people, a bullet to the head would be too clean and would lack creativity.

current mood: You know. Duckies and Bunnies.

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Sunday, March 25th, 2007
5:59 pm
People are mostly a bunch of bastards. This is my observation of the day.
The weather is so nice that I've had my windows open, and it's not only the wonderful fresh air, but the sounds and voices outside my window that effect my general awareness and help set my mood...
Notice the sounds from people outside my window just after 2am (barclose) on Saturday night. You can really tell this is a college-populated area.
The sounds of cars honking at 12pm on Sunday reveal to me that there are a number of people "protesting" the war out on the corner. They may as well be holding signs that say "MOSTLY HARMLESS, YET STUPID", or "HONK IF YOU'RE HORNY (and stupid)", or "HEY, (i'm stupid and) I LIKE MAYONNAISE". When I was walking up the street for coffee, I overheard some shit-monkey young girls talking, and something one of them said began to make sense. It was about the people standing on the corner with signs, and how they weren't really doing anything except distracting drivers. I wanted to turn around and give her a big hug.

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Saturday, March 24th, 2007
4:31 pm
I've decided that it no longer matters and I'm doing whatever I want. What the hell?

The date of my death isn't predetermined. I don't care what anyone says, it's just not.

You can say whatever you want to me. It may not mean anything. It probably doesn't.

So take that bastards!

current mood: calm

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