Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Roman Polanski - The Last Picture Show

Who actually can remember now those days when young Sybil Shepard's life was being ruined by being cast as everyone's perfect sweetheart. She fell for her producer falling for her, and half the cast, and eventually rehabiliated herself as everyone's favorite what's for dinner full figure gal. I still love Sybil. Sometimes I see her naked, sitting on the end of that diving board.

Who can remember when dorms and even bathrooms were co-ed, and priests learned the ins and outs of gay sex right in seminary?

Who can remember Roman Polanski's indiscretion, and who can figure why, now, when we allow and enrich crazed Glenn Beck to cry and cry out loud in a very crowded theater "fire fire fire", we decide to stop winking and get serious?

Who? Why now??

Who remembers Charles Manson, Sharon Tate, Squeaky Fromme, the summer of Woodstock, shots to the moon? We're all being reminded now.

But why, then is Glenn Beck allowed to rant dangerously, get rich, and crazies get all the attention.

Why do we let ourselves off the hook? Is it all just Sunday entertainment, where even the President has to crowd the airwaves to be heard?

Sure, everyone rants that rich people like O.J., Polanski, Teddy K., these folks don't deserve a break just because they're so creative entertaining, and Goddamned rich.

Why do we deserve that break then? We know what we like in secret. We know what we go to do in Big Box churches, Stadium Seats, drinking or chanting or screaming starts at 9 AM now, I guess, and there isn't even a traffic jam until the stadium empties, with people streaming in for tailgating or early service all the livelong day. I can't imagine that they have buses from those Big Box churches right to the stadium, but they might as well have.

Could it really be the same people now, on alternate Sundays maybe, waving hands in the air, tears streaming, now painting faces yelling fuck, throwing punches, making the world that scary for dignity?

Yup, I think it could. Woot Woot!

You can go to hell Polanski, but throw me a line now and then, OK? I love your films, I love the way you throw the ball, you make me think that host is real.

Give me a freaking break already.

Turn off the megatron.

wink wink

No comments: