|alex and sean meet the hole bear
While Ted R&Red my hard disks the other nite, I stayed in town and saw the Henry Darger movie, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I know some critics whined because the filmmaker animated the Darger art (rather stiffly, so the little girls and soldiers moved around like mechanical toys), but film critics whine about everything. This isn't directed at the couple of movie buffs on my fiendslist, but I generally wish "film people" would just shut up because they're like Pitchfork critics to the nth power and also, for some reason, the film biz seems to revere its critics and kowtow to them for fear of not getting the all-important Massive Funding Needed For Next Project. In the Realms of the Unreal, indeed, as in Fake. Whereas in rock n' roll people are less concerned about $ (usually they've already accepted they're not going to get more than the price of a six-pack of beer) and therefore are more "real" (as well as lacking in "social skills" and SchmoozeFactor) and willing to smack Mister Critic in the mouth and dump a beer on his head. It's more humbler and populist that way, dontcha think? Anyway I wasn't annoyed by the animation. What did annoy me were the women a few rows behind me who laughed at the part where Henry collects big balls of twine and can't get the tangles out of a big brown twine-hunk and gets upset and cusses out God for not helping him detangle, and then feels kind of guilty about that later. I didn't see anything funny about it. Seemed like something I would do on a very bad day. Maybe I'm crazy too. I suppose nowadays they'd just stuff some Prozac or Ritalin down ol' Henry, despite twine and art being a lot healthier IMHO. Perhaps he was lucky he lived when he did.
Speaking of God I also went and got ashes today for the first time in some years, in keeping with my plan of hitting godboxes more often. I never wanted to be a wimp shit twice-a-year Catholic and the reasons I stopped going reg'lar weren't even good ones, or big ones, or dramatic ones, no Crises of Belief (The only time I ever had a Crisis of Belief was when my first guinea pig died and some unenlightened asshole told me it wasn't going to heaven), just dumb little stuff. Like being "too busy", and not wanting to be around large crowds of people especially most (though not all) of the types who go to church services, and letting some jerk who wasn't worth two p00ps in a pie pan make me feel bad about myself. Fortunately God took care of the last one and I do believe it was God because of the rather abrupt and dramatic manner in which said party Exited stage left. Sometimes I feel like I don't fit into the church very well being as how it's not really set up for antisocial independent female career-minded alterna-types, but then if the screwy Kennedys can parade before the altar year after year, I'm sure I can work something out.
P.S. By the way, if you're one of those people who constantly makes loud public remarks about how they can't understand how anyone Intelligent or Logical can believe in God or practice a religion, that gives me all the more reason to DO IT JUST TO ANNOY YOU!