Seriously, he called was like "Dude, you should post. Even if it's our conversation. I don't care. POST, BITCH!"
- Just as God's son did, I think the time in the world will be divided between pre-Snakes on a Plane release and post-Snakes on Plane release. It's like those six months between Kill Bill volumes. SoaP can still be anything you want it to be. And there will come a time when we will know what it is. And that will be sad. But there you are.
- Am I black or white, am I straight, or gay? Controversy.
- Munich may be the anti-Untouchables. It's definitely Spielberg in De Palma territory, and he used a fashionable playwright to fashion the script. But in this case it's the anti because it's Spielberg working against his instincts to create a film that's not for the crowd (which is makes it more De Palmaeranian because Mr. Brian De P was working within the Hollywood structure). In the end both films come to the exact opposite conclusions. Just a thought.
- My favorite Valentine's day story is this. About five years ago, my then girlfriend got us a reservation at a Bed and Breakfast. Either I worked half a day, or took it off, and we planned to head over around 3 pm. Before I could leave my house I got a call from my friend Jen to tell me that our mutual friend (Explicative deleted) was threatening to kill himself. My girlfriend was rather amazing in this instance and I went immediately to The Space Room, where he was. A couple of his friends gathered, he told all of us that he was ready to die, and how unhappy he was. I think we were all there to give emotional support, but I was more curious than anything. I believe in the right to suicide, though I tend to think it's a stupid, stupid move. But (Explicative deleted) was depressed. He couldn't hold a job, got fired from the position that gave him priveledge and quite a bit of tail, and had probably been drinking heavily for the last five to ten years of his life, with the not so occasional booster of coke and pot, and many other substances ([Explicative deleted] caused me to be three hours late for work once due to taking a blue pill he gave me after a night of hard drinking, while on another instance after a night out with him I went into work still reeking of whiskey. Granted, these were my decisions - but that's the sort of devil he was). After a couple of hours trying to bring him down, Jen laid down the science: (Explicative deleted) had two choices, either he was going to go to a hospital willingly to detox, or she was going to call the cops and get thrown into detox. Hearing this, (Explicative deleted) freaked and told us all that that wasn't going to happen. When assured it would happen he grabbed the nearest glass, broke it on the table and tried to slit his wrists in front of us. We restrained him until the cops showed up. Then my gal and I went over to the hospital, and tried to hang out for a bit as things got settled down and he got settled in. Then we went across the street for pizza and some down time (shockingly I don't think anyone had anything to drink at the pizza place). Around nine or ten we left the hospital to go to the bed and breakfast place. It was fabulous. But though we consummated in the nature of such an establishment - if memory serves - it was akin to Eric Bana's pained nutbust in Munich. How could it not be. And I can't not think of this on February 14th.
Happy Valentine's day.