« It's so much better on holiday »
2004-04-26 · 7:36 p.m.

The only thing I really accomplished over my week-long vacation was watching an enormous lot of movies. However, that was first and foremost on my list of things to do, so I feel pretty special. Vois-y:

* Eraserhead: I can't believe I watched this hideous nightmare monstrosity. Which reminds me--I had this tremendous nightmare just now practically, during the tail-end of my heroic (in the classical sense) five-hour nap. In it Vincent Price was totally crazy-go-nuts and also my next-door neighbor, and I was the only person (asides from an unwieldy baby I carried away despite hating all babies) who was allowed to escape from his planned massacre of two dozen famous actors. The scariest was getting lost in his house and seeing all the various apparati, such as the subterreanean blood-drainer. I just can't believe Vincent Price was evil. I mean, he's Vincent Price!

* Metropolis

* The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

I didn't know prior to watching it that Metropolis has absolutely no sound tracks. It was a sort of eery experience, quickly counteracted by my constantly wondering aloud just what the fuck was happening, anyway.

* Sunset Blvd.

* Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

This became sort of a marathon movie night of evil crazy deranged old lady actress motifs.

* School of Rock

I'd totally buy an album by the School of Rock. Also I'd like to encourage their "stylist" to never ever ever change because he is my hero.

* The Decline of Western Civilization

Darby Crash really freaked me out, mainly because he sounded like a speed-freak 4th grader with an obsession for panthers.

* Conspiritors of Pleasure

I just rented ALICE today. I'd sort of like to immerse myself in Jan Svankmejer movies until the end of recorded history, which I imagine being like snuggling under a comfy blanket made entirely out of chicken remains and the smashed faces of antique Punch puppets. Yeah!

The other thing about this vacation was that it was totally sober-kins. For some reason, whenever I have money, all the drug dealers in the tri-county area flee to Canada and stay there until I've spent the $40 or so on clothes instead. I did get to go to New York Bossa Nova City and see Caetano Veloso (who sings like a beautiful girl! Tee hee) playing with David Byrne. Although we were sitting in the nosebleed, panic-attack seats in Carnegie Hall, I did sort of tap one foot in an attempt at this thing you call "rhythm" when David Byrne and Caetano Veloso sang "(Nothing But) Flowers" together.

William Meredith had a birthday celebration poetry reading (not the best way to celebrate one's birthday if you ask me, but I guess William Meredith isn't into stoned debauchery during his golden years), and my mother guilt-tripped me into going with her. This turned out to be the best possible idea because I was given the chance to drink large quantities of champagne and drunkenly steal a free(ish) bottle for later. And cheese and crackers. For some reason poets go for the brie and Wheat Thins like bats outta hell.

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