last night i had a dream. in that dream i saw a hairless mouse with a pitchfork singing a song about caves. i surmise these are the same caves at the packard sawmill. harry, tonight you and i are going to do a little spelunking.
it wasn't until seeing mike myers' part that i noticed the connection between badalamenti's jazzy dance of the dreaming man, including said man's snapping, and myers' role in his woefully underappreciated (un love ed?) gem, so i married an axe murderer (another failure by ebert, here).
it's not on youtube (although a shoddy black&white version facsimile is), and while it is streaming at mclachlan's personal website, i found that to be unwatchably poorly streamed (your mileage may vary). nonetheless, it's worth seeing.
but i'm just screaming into the night air like a fireman going to a window that has no fire.
