How are you to imagine anything if the images are always provided for you? Doublethink. To deliberately believe in lies while knowing they’re false. Examples of this in every day life: Oh, I need to be pretty to be happy. I need surgery to be pretty. I - I need to be thin. Famous. Fashionable. Our young men today are being told that women are whores. Bitches. Things to be screwed. Beaten. Shit on. And shamed.
This is a marketing holocaust. Twenty four hours a day, for the rest of our lives, the powers at be are hard at work dumbing us to death.
So, to defend ourselves, and fight against assimilating this dullness into our thought processes, we must learn to read. To stimulate our own imagination. To cultivate our own consciousness. Our own belief systems. We all need these skills to defend, to preserve, our own minds.
- Adrien Brody, Detachment (2011)
And so I wear my daily mask
Of pleasant seeming,
And nobody takes me to task
For distant dreaming;
A happy hypocrite am I
Of ambiance inner,
Who smiling make the same reply
To saint and sinner.
- R.W. Service
Lloyd: What’s wrong?
Ari: Has so much cum squirt in those eyes you can’t see what’s right in front of your face? Amanda Daniels takes that job, Vince is fucked and I’m fucked. Which means we’re all fucked. And we’re fucked in the way you like to get fucked not fucked in the way normal people like to get fucked.
Ari: From now on, ask my permission before you bang one of my assistants.
Eric: How’d you know that?
Ari: ‘Cause I know all, and I could have told you that this would end badly. Now I gotta fire her so you don’t feel weird.
Eric: No. Don’t fire her.
Ari: All right. Well, I’ll just sexually harass her until she quits.
I do get called a bitch quite often. What I do not get called is pushover, stupid, sweetheart, dear or doormat. Works for me. :)
Scary Stories to Tell in The Dark by Daniel Norris
Daniel Norris has recently been pumping out some amazing minimalist movie posters that center around the most memorable images from those films. But they’re conjured forth from the abyss in an eery, ink-splattered style that reminds me of Stephen Gammell’s iconic “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” covers. And now I’m scared of Willy Wonka all over again.