Life in a Northern Virginia suburb of Washington, D.C. B.M.A.T.C., and Etruscan typewriter erasers. Blogged by David Gorsline.
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Certainly it was ordained as a scourge upon the pride of human wisdom, That the wisest of us all should thus outwit ourselves, and eternally forego our purposes in the intemperate act of pursuing them.
—Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy, V:16
posted: 9:58:07 AM |
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Rian Johnson's first feature is Brick, an accomplished neo-neo-pomo-noir that plays out in a present-day San Clemente, Calif. high school, being nealry equal parts The Big Sleep, Twin Peaks, and Rebel without a Cause. In Johnson's world, a high school drug dealer is chauffeured in a Chevy Astro, a Marlowesque secondary school shamus takes calls from a phone booth, and clueless adults take the place of Chandler's feckless police. His eye for the photographed image is assured, and he can tell a story with a lot of the action happening outside the frame. Nathan Johnson and Larry Seymour's electic score adds the right offbeat note. And I'd love to know who's responsible for the sly Gilbert and Sullivan quotation. posted: 9:27:02 AM |
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Alice Friman's "Visitation Rights" is a lovely poem of late autumn. posted: 8:52:29 AM |
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posted: 8:48:03 AM |
 D. Gorsline, Proprietor
   
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