After both Jack and Penelope told me they couldn't come with me to Sin City to see the Breeders, and I couldn't get my car tuned up, I bought a ticket for the Breeders and gathered sheets and the like for sleeping alone in my car. I did manage to grab a map, like one of those bigs books of just maps at the store and... some batteries and some Clifbars. I forgot to get bread for PB+Js, but I bought enough Coke for 3 trips, which it may turn into if I decide to wing it to Pheonix the next day, to see another show.
A delightful surprise! A Breeders, "Head to Toe", tour t-shirt came in the mail and now I'll really look the fan dork part. School was mindless. Except for my teacher telling me I was both the brightest student in the class ("You live Art", he stresses) and also bound to fail, as I haven't handed anything in yet.
We watched Casablanca and another earlier Bogart film in English class. Nevermind how this reminds me of High School English, where we'd watch the movie adaptation of a book instead of reading the book, (can you say, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, being hard reading material? I can't either, but the movie was nice...), watching movies in English class is a waste of my time. Yes, Casablanca is a good movie, but I don't know if I'm certain on how great movies are in general. I like the feeling of gritty weathered pages in my dry hands and having to picture every single event in my head. Sex scenes in books are way hot; please someone else admit this.
The only thing that made me have interest in the earlier Bogart flick, "The Petrified Forest" was a character named Alan Squire, who was a traveling writer, penniless and stuck in the desert. He was out to find something, anything - a reason to live and love, a reason to make art and someone to appreciate it with. And then, he meets a woman and falls in love, makes a pact with the devil and I lost the respect of his character. To be the hero, you can't fall in love with the herone, it's gotta be love 'em and leave 'em, Fuck and Run. Think James Dean. Make them wish they never met you and that you never had gone at the same time. What kind of flick is it if everyone gets what they want? A Disney flick, that's what. I ain't going to be drawing Mickey Mouse in the desert tomorrow, I'll be drawing mountains with blood and sweat and hoping I'll stay up for the 12 hours it takes to get to the cradle of that Devil.
Leave a comment