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faithful and mad

my nonpareil companion!

luna, in her seemingly superluminal superposition, having arrived at her fullness in time (and just) to celebrate my birthday with me in a black dress dotted with rebel diamonds,
then tonight swung low and close enough to our sphere to be seen through the windows of my trolley (when not boring through mountain tunnels or hills) as i barreled homeward...

joie de vivre!

weather 'twas

this white christmas we've been blessed with helps greatly to restore in some small degree my faith in the overall benevolence of the universe. mind you that (here, anyway) it's being accompanied by forty mile-per-hour wind gusts. and while it is both exhilirating to step out into and fascinating to watch, one can't avert one's inner gaze from the destruction that accompanies it.

jones casey: the return: teaser 1

among the disimprovements lj's addlebraintrust has made: no longer is it possible to look back further than ten additional entries on the friends feed. used to be at least sixty. everything here shrinks.

behind mulholland

since this appears to be published fairly recently (at least on yt), i'll share it in case you might not have seen it:

lynch directing mulholland

what gets me about the footage is that i don't know that i've ever seen someone smoking cigarettes as copiously and continuously and conspicuously as lynch. and based on the photo gras shared and the photo i saw of lynch on the set with stanton during the filming of his guitar solo, it seems like only lynch's alter ego has actually ditched the coffin nails.

dreams of a one-armed man

the text from this entry from 2011:

i've been catching a lot more dreams lately (a lot more than next to none). this morning i woke up from a dream where i'd been at a tori amos concert, after which i somehow had backstage access, and met tori, and we were getting along smashingly and were bouncing along joyfully, hand in hand, to a tryst, when we ran into her husband, played, for some unknown reason, by seth rogen (as himself). seth punched me in the face, but we were able to convince him that nothing had been afoot, and i that i was thrilled to meet him, which had a tiny grain of truth to lend authenticity to my performance. then i noticed a man in a yellow button-down shirt who'd been standing nearby observing the entire encounter, and was stunned to realize it was kevin bacon. i rushed to make introductions and offered my hand for a handshake, and he demurred, indicating his right arm was missing. he began to explain how he'd lost his arm, but he was interrupted by an old man played by harry dean stanton (not as himself) who wanted to tell the story of how he'd lost two fingers in a kitchen accident. it was during his story that i awoke.




bythos:

i watch me be this other thing and never know
if i'm marooned or where the purple people go


_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

(2017 again)

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

and then last night for obvious reasons i dreamt myself on the set of a lynch project, acting in a story i knew almost nothing about with no one whom i recognized

[i had already planned to repost/link to this 2011 entry to go along with my musings about the return; now it's even more pertinent]
i don't find it talked about much but the man was truly an angel, even if at times he himself forgot this. after all, in his own words (about paris texas): "it wasn't odd to be in the lead, i took the same approach as i would to any other part. i play myself as totally as i possibly can. my own harry dean stanton act."


first thought: i agree with proximo in disagreeing with waggish, but i still need to read those comments.
i imagine i'm less disappointed in the finale than most, but still locked in an uncertain state. if there is no return to the return, it will grow, otherwise dwindle to the size of small golden orb. they need to manufacture another.
tuned in this afternoon to the boston red sox through the local nesn broadcast through my mlb package because i wanted to watch a little of my old tiger favorite fister pitching. haven't done so since he came up and thus missed his complete game one hitter -- good to know he still has it some days. ended up seeing a commercial i otherwise wouldn't have seen -- a terrific laugh i much appreciated:


on ytube

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