confessionS oF A dangerouS minD

This is the only Charlie Kaufman movie I haven't seen.  (And in case you're wondering, here is a list of all of the Charlie Kaufmann movies to date:  

2008  Synecdoche, New York

 2004 Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

 2002 Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

 2002 Adaptation

 2001 Human Nature

 1999 Being John Malkovich

 He also seems to have done a little work on Kung Fu Panda 2--believe it or not--but I don't think that qualifies it as a CK movie.  (But I have seen it--& liked it, too.)

Being John Malkovich is one of my all-time favorite movies.  Maybe even top ten . . . I don't know, I'd have to construct an actual top ten movies to be able to say.*  And I am extremely fond of
Human Nature, Adaptation,  & Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, all of which I've seen at least a couple of times.  It took me three goes before I really liked Synecdoche, New York.  At first it just struck me as pretentious and weird for the sake of weird (as opposed to weird because it can't be helped).  At second I just thought it was stupid and boring.  Then I had my heart puréed, and watched it again & it made sense to me.  (It's mostly a movie about what it's like to live after you have been totally destroyed by someone else.)  In fact, just writing about it makes me want to watch it again . . . which I may have to do pretty much right now.  Or maybe I'll watch Ultramarines: Warhammer first. 

Later . . .

So this Confessions of a Dangerous Man thing . . . I liked it.  I really liked George Clooney & Drew Barrymore.  Such a weird storyline.  So weird that you kind of start believing it after awhile.  

*My Top Ten Movie List**
1.  The Unbearable Lightness of Being
2.  Jesus Christ Superstar
3.  Amadeus
4.  The Right Stuff
5.  All That Jazz
6.  Repo Man  
7.  Rocky   The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
8.  Waking Life
9.   Manhatten  Sweet Land

10.  Being John Malkovich 

**NOT in hierarchical order . . . and subject to change or re-consideration.

Girlsketeers Meeting: 6:50 to 7:20 A.M. Sunday, December 22, 2013

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Jacqueline won’t let me in to her Girlsketeers meetings.  (It’s my sisters and their Beatles Fan Club all over again.  No wonder I hated the  fab Four until I was older.)  I tried planting a camera in her room once.  I put it on her bookshelf and hid it behind a bobblehead of the Deal or No Deal era Howie Mandel.  As verified by checking the camera later, she opened her door, walked straight over to the camera and threw it on her bed.  Doesn’t mean I won’t try again.  But she does play her music LOUD (and sings along even LOUDER)—I believe that it is the God given right of every human being to play music as loudly as they want to at least some of the time—so I am at least able to follow her playlist.   

Here’s this morning’s playlist:

Set One

“America the Beautiul” by Frank Sinatra

“Hoedown Throwdown” by Miley Cyrus

“The Best of Both Worlds” by Miley Cyrus

“Happy Working Song”  (from Enchanted) by Amy Adams

“I See the Light” (from Tangled) by Mandy Moore and Zachary Levi

“Home” (rom Beauty and the Beast) by Susan Egan

“Super Freak” by Rick James

“We Want the Funk” by Parliament/Funkadelic

“Brick House” The Commodores

“Get Down Tonight” by K.C. and the Sunshine Band

Set Two

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“Movement I – Mercy” from The Prayer Cycle by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

“Give a Little Whistle” from Pinnochio by Cliff Edwards

“I Will Go Sailing No More” from Toy Story by Randy Newman

“Thomas O'Malley” from The Aristocats by Phil Harris

“That’s What Friends Are For” from The Jungle Book by  by J. Pat O'Malley, Lord Tim Hudson, Digby Wolfe,  with Chad Stuart. George Sanders and Bruce Reitherman

“Love” from Robin Hood by Nancy Adams

Now that’s the way you get yourself going on a Sunday morning.

leO

So . . . I wrote a letter to LEO (which stands for Louisville Eccentiric Observer, a free rag which proclaims that it is Louisville's urban alternative weekly--which is a misnomer on two counts, as Louisville cannot really be said to have an "urban" side, and as LEO is about as alternative as penny loafers).  Actually I'd written a letter the previous week because I was pissed at some anti-reading remarks by one of the columnists, but as the columnist is a friend of mine I declined the editor's offer to print the letter.  So this second letter was on the same topic, and since this time the writer who had offended my sensibilites was the editor of the paper, I acceded to having it printed.  It went like this:

My Dear Leo,

Once again I notice the thread of anti-literacy that has been showing up in LEO.  This time it's in a movie review of  Catching Fire, written by Sara Havens.  After expressing her interest in the movie, she writes, "I'm dying to know how it ends without having to crack open a book."  Really?  I'm hoping that what she meant was that she was uninterested in reading an adolescent novel based on recycled science fiction tropes, but that certainly isn't what she said. 

We have a nation full of children who brag about never reading a book.  Do we really need to encourage this kind of behavior--either deliberately or through sloppy writing?  For Christ's sake, enough of this.  Hey, I just read Stephen King's Dr. Sleep, and it was a great, thrilling experience--much better than any movie.  I'm also reading James Joyce's Finegans Wake, which is the most challenging book I've ever read, and I'm enjoying it immensely.  How about some of that?

Thomas Kalb  

They printed that letter, so I decided to write another.  I have been reading LEO o and on since its inception in 1990 (by John Yarmuth & Co.), and had grown increasingly dismayed by its steady slide into vapidity.  I was particularly roused to anger by a new column written by a young black woman which was so devoid of meaningful communication that it should have had a VACANCY sign hung on it.  So I wrote this:

Dear LEO,

How are you? Have you lost weight?  Well, you certainly are looking good. Maybe it's because you printed my anti-anti-reading letter in your last issue.  Speaking of which, since you were so receptive, I thought I'd write again.  A nice long letter this time . . . to tell you about what I've been reading this week.  Maybe you could cut it out and paste it over one of those dumb ass columns you've been running lately. (My particular not-favorite is the one by the woman who spent her entire column writing nasty things about a guy she dated because he used a nose spray in her presence.  Come on, now,  I know you can do better than that.  What was the point there?  Why give such a petty, small-minded person a forum?  Seriously, I feel that you owe we five minutes of my life back tor that one.)

So first off, yes, I am still reading Finnegan's Wake.  (And hey, could you please put that title in italics?  Former English teacher, you know.)  I'm almost to page 200 now.  I've been reading it out loud and that is great fun.  It actually forces you to acquire an Irish accent.  I catch the scatological humor . . . and most of the eschatological humor . . . but not much else, I 'll confess.  But it's still good stuff.  Besides, it's not a one and done kind of book.  I’ll be back.

I read Night Train to Lisbon by Pascal Mercier last week, and that immediately went to my top ten list.  It's an amazing book, filled with wisdom expressed in elegant language--primarily in excerpts from a book within the book, A Goldsmith of Words, by Dr. Amadeu Inácio de Almeida Prado.  Have you seen the movie Ulysses’ Gaze (1995)?  (If not, great movie.  Check it out.)  Night Train to Lisbon reminds me of that.  In the book, Gregorius, who has been living a very staid life as a teacher of languages, suddenly (prompted by a series of coincidences which jolt him out of his rut) leaves Bern and travels to . . . you guessed it, Lisbon.  And he goes by . . . ?  Right again.  One of the coincidences which prompts this departure from job and home is the acquisition of A Goldsmith of Words.  There is something about what Prado has to say in this book which pulls Gregorius in, and he ends up stumbling into a quest for the truth of Prado’s life (hence the parallel to Ulysses’ Gaze, in which Harvey Keittel’s character (A.) goes on a quest for a lost film which ends up becoming a quest for meaning in his own life).  Gregorius’s journey also becomes our own in that any thinking person must at some point consider what makes life meaningful and worthwhile. 

In terms of plot, Night Train to Lisbon is also about António de Oliveira Salazar’s brutal right-wing dictatorship in Portugal and the resistance movement which tried to oppose him.  While it is described as a “philosophical novel,” Night Train to Lisbon is far from the stodginess that such nomenclature might imply.  Perhaps it would be better described as Not a Superficial Novel.  It is not just about what happens.  It offers some food for the soul.

So enthralled was I by this book that once I learned that there was a movie version I felt the need to see it.  I’m sorry that I did so.  While there were some fine moments in the film—not the least of which was an appearance by Lena Olen, who at 58 years old is still amazingly beautiful and sexy—but the heart of the novel had been scooped out and replaced by a kazoo. 

Shortly after I closed the book, I began to read Perlmann’s Silence, which is (alas!) the only only Pascal Mercier book which has been translated into English.  I’m only 30 pages in at the moment, but I’m already pretty taken with it.  If I finish it in the next few days, I’ll write to you again and tell you all about it.

Thanks for listening, LEO.  And if you’re not interested in using this letter as wallpaper to cover up the ugly stain of one of those columns, would you at least do us all a favor and just print the name of the woman’s column and her picture and leave us some nice, cozy white space instead of the shit smear of her ill-considered words?  Seriously, you’d add a couple of World Classiness Points to Louisville’s score this week just by doing that.

XOXO,

Thomas Kalb

P.S.  I know it’s rather ignorant to refer to “that woman’s column” instead of doing the two seconds’s worth of research it would take to find her name, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Sorry.

Smartass is just one of the languages I am fluent in.  (Hey, I grew up with three sisters.  What would you have done?)  Just sent this one off this morning, but I anxiously await a reply.  I may not get one, of course, but I thought it was worth a shot, ya know?  There is quite enough shit in this world, and I don't understand why people just blithely ignore it.  It's time to take a stand, brothers & sisters.  Say it with me, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to ignore your vapid shit anymore!"

 

battlE glasseS

Jacqueline was a little preoccupied with Helen Keller this morning as she ate her pancakes for breakfast.  She has a mantra which goes something like this:  "Helen, she can't see.  She can't talk.  I can see.  I can talk."  After reciting this mantra, she did a new riff on it:

 

 "I have good eyes.  I just wear glasses in battle."  

That seems to be a reference to her on-going battle with Thunderella (who brings the rain, etc.) and/or her punctual blues battle with The Fire Blood.  I tried to get her to let me take a picture of her in her battle glasses, but she got mad.  So I'm going to use this picture

 even though it's blurry & even though she isn't properly garbed for battle because it sums up the ATTITUDE so thoroughly.

That's my little girl.  Mess with her & she will fuck you up!

le_s__ @^ _F 100 lessons

"Do what contributes to making you more genuine, moves you closer to yourself."

Pascal Mercier Night Train to Lisbon

Interesting implication there--that we are not ourselves, that we are somehow separated from outselves, and that in order to live a genuine life we mut find our way to our selves.  This seems true to me--and certainly explains the great need for mental health counselors.  The question is, then, what accounts for this separation from the self?  It's possible that it's a condition that the human being is born into, but I don't think that's it.  Young children seem very much to be themselves, and thus are genuine, and thus their observations of the world are often charming or even startling.  So the separation comes at a later date.  The events depicted in the novel suggest that the separation is caused by relationships with significant others--especially parents & loved ones, but also teachers, religious leaders, even casual acquaintances.  It also suggests--and I see this as right in line with what William James had to say in "The Social Me"--that it is by entering into relationships with others that we fracture ourselves, compromise ourselves . . . begin the process of separating ourselves from ourselves.  In order to remain whole (& genuine), then, it seems that one would have to have little to do with the world outside of he self.  But certainly we can't believe that the path to the genuine life is only opened by separating one's self from the world.  Well, unless you're a Buddhist.  For the most part, though, it seems pretty obvious that one of the purposed for existence is to encounter others . . . and, hopefully, to help or learn or appreciate when possible.  

Can one enter into relationships with others without compromise, without obsequiousness, without surrender?  Good question.  Is it even proper to do so?  Another good question.

But it's not an all or nothing proposition.  One can be honest in a relationship if one is strong enough, brave enough, to do so.  (It takes a pretty special person to put up with that kind of shit, though.)  But one can also do the necessary small compromises that make getting through the day without resort to firearms possible.

But enough.  I want to read some more.    

ST Lucy'S birthdaY partY

Yesterday was St. Lucy's Official Feast Day, so of course we Kalbs partied hardily.  Here's the evidence:

First the preparation phase.  It began when Jacqueline chose one of her many dolls and asked if she could have a box to put it in.  When you live with Jacqueline you get used to such requests and don't even think to ask "why?"  It was a pretty big (and floppy) doll, so it needed a big box.  Fortunately the goose is getting fat, so there was a large box to be found.  

Later that night I heard a strange sound in the hallway, and when I went to investigate Jacqueline was wrapping the big box with the big floppy doll in it in Christmas paper.

After the wrapping, she put the box in her room.  

Intermission.  Jacqueline had been to see Clara's Dream with her mom, and one of the actors in the piece was the offspring of a friend of mine.  (Obscurity here to protect the young and innocent.  The E-Street Shuffle is on his own, though.)  I told Jacqueline about that, and when I was out on the back porch having a smoke she went into my cell phone directory and called my friend, then talked to his offspring & invited him/her to come over to the Kalb Manse for a visit.  That, of course, meant that they were now best friends.  Return to text. 

When I went into her room the next morning I saw that she had written a note & taped it to the package:  

& then the new best friend's name, then 

(I've parted it out so that you can't see the name of the new best friend.)  Pretty darned cute, eh?  I'm particularly fond of the "contents" bit.

And then there was the making of the cake.  Jacueline cracked the eggs, poured in the cake mix & added the water.  I added the "butter."  Jacqueline stirred the mix with a spoon (seems that my mixer--which I bought when I was single--was part of the divorce settlement, mmm hmmmm), and I put it into the oven.  While it was baking,  Jacqueline took care of the bowl clean up.

 

And let me tell you, that was one clean bowl.  I'm only going to wash it for form's sake.

Friday morning Jacqueline icinged the cake and later that day the party got going:

And a splendid time was had by all.

The End

 
BTW  
Words to the wise:  If you're at a party and St. Lucy comes by and offers you some "deviled eggs" from her platter, pass on it.  That girl has a wicked sense of humor.  Trust me--I found out the hard way.  (Or should I say the soft, squishy way?)

baD dreaM

Don't remember all of it, and don't want to.  Joe had gotten off the bus too soon--and there was something about the driver being a substitute and being off the route--so he ended up in a really bad part of town.  Joe had been on his own for six hours before I found him.  He was fine, but I remember thinking how hungry he must be and wondering whether he had even been able to go to the bathroom.  

I guess that's just part of having autistic kids--the constant worry about whether they are safe, whether other people are going to try to hurt them, what will happen to them if you're not around.  And of course there will come a time when I won't be around.  What happens then?  Ahhhh.

mY 5 favoritE complimentS froM studentS

James B., whose father was in jail for murder, said to me, "I want to get old and be crazy like you." 

Nicole said, "Mr. Kalb, I think you must be black."

A guy who might have been Robert L. came up to me on the senior walk and said, "I love you, man. Not in a gay way." 

Laura N. wrote me a note in which she said. "You made me a better person." 

Clare G. told the school librarian that I was "Jesus, Socrates and Monty Python rolled into one."

thosE dayS arE gonE

1980.  

When I probably weighed 160 pounds or so.  

And was 23 years old.

Can I buy a ticket back? 

riP

I think this is really it.  Admittedly, I've thought so a number of times before and it has not turned out to be so.  But I think we've reached the point of no return now.  I'm happy to say that it was without anger or bitterness--so far as I could tell--and that I don't have any expectation of internet reprisals (as there were in the past).  I think it's just over.  And I feel relieved.  The ending of 

one of the great loves of my life was also the end of my life in so many ways.  And cutting the final connection with her is a way of cutting out the man who was so incredibly naive and trusting and foolish.  I will love again--am in love now, actually, with a lovely woman--but I won't be fooled again by friend or stranger.  Rest, Child Thomas.  You have to the Dark Tower come, and it is a place of peace.

And synchronicity being what it is in my life, I read this in Proust's Sodom & Gomorrah:

 "I no longer loved Gilberte.  She was for me like a dead person whom one has long mourned, but then oblivion had set in, and, were she to be resurrected, she would no longer be able to insert herself into a life no longer made for her.  I had no desire to see her any more, nor the desire even to show her that I was not keen to see her, which every day when I loved her I promised myself I would display once I no longer loved her."

 

modestY blazeS

 One of the details that I noticed in the elaborate ceiling of St. James this morning was the word MODESTY, which was depicted on a scroll hovering above the head of an angel.  It was one of these (just inside the blue circle)

but I don't know which one since the resolution on the picture isn't good enough to go in close.  There were lots of other good-Christian-values-type words, but MODESTY stood out to me because of the lack of it I was seeing on display as the worshippers walked up to take communion.  

Now, don't get me wrong.  I love the display of long legs and fulsome cleavage as much as or more than any other guy.  And I did indeed enjoy the parade of legs and breasts that passed before my eyes as the bread and wine were handed round. It makes me happy to look at immodest, beautiful young women.  Even so, I had to wonder: (1) do these women actually consider their garb to be appropriate for this context? and (2) why doesn't anyone address this lack of dress? 

And it's not because I'm a good Christian--or even a Christian, for that matter.  I'm in church one Sunday a month because Jacqueline & Joe like to go to church, and they're with me one Sunday morning per month.  It has to do with propriety . . . and hypocrisy.  That angel and the scroll, you know?  Why can't people at least try to be what they proclaim themselves to be?  Is hypocrisy so deeply ingrained into our 21st century being that it now passes completely unnoticed?  

I imagined myself as the officiating priest and what I would have to say to the women . . . and it wasn't just the young ones, unfortunately . . . who were contextually inappropriate in their fashion choices.  

(Which immediately made me remember ex-wife number one describing me as "like an Old Testament prophet."  (I don't think it was meant as a compliment, but I took it as such and it still makes me happy to think on this thought.))  Of course I would have made reference to the Whore of Babylon.  Maybe a few Old Testament-y whores as well.

But that's just me, I guess.  And the cognitive dissonance generated in my skull is not going to interfere one whit with my appreciation of the exposed or highlighted tits, legs, or assesnext time I'm in church.  It just makes me wonder about the world.  (Not in a good way.)

gratuitouS seX

"There is no such thing as gratuitous sex. Gratuitous violence, yes....  Sex cannot and will not ever be gratuitous."

Detective John Munch (played by Richard Belzer)       

in 

Homicide Season 3, Episode 1, 

"Nearer My God to Thee" 

(written by Jorge Zamacona)

oH. mY. goD.

Sold in a store that specializes in Catholic stuffs--so I guess this isn't sacrilegious.  I wonder if they sell chocolate crucifixes for Easter.

In case you can't tell, the first one is a tennis ball rosary.  Not pictured are the soccer ball and golf rosaries.  I only wish I were kidding.

thiS jusT iN froM the I aM tireD oF youR shiT departmenT

Okay.  I started my teaching career in September of 1990.  I left a job I loved, working for people I loved (proofreader for McCoy's Business Services, Marlene & Greg McCoy) for one primary reason:  I was idealistic and naive enough to think that teaching mattered.  I am now twenty-five (or so) working days away from the end of my 23rd year as a teacher, and I've decided to retire from teaching.  The three primary reasons are (1) my daughter needs me, (2) I am sick of the newest bullshit reforms which threaten the very concept of public education, and (3) I am no longer so naive and idealistic.  With respect to (3):  -a-  I know that there are administrators who know that the latest (and most dangerous yet) reforms are bullshit, yet they stand behind them because they are afraid they will lose their jobs.  There are no Spartans for this Thermopylae.  If there ever was an age of ideals, it has given way to the age of self-interested pragmatism.  (No wonder a fourth-rate novelist like Ayn Rand who preaches The Virtue of Selfishness is still remembered 56 years after her last shitty novel was published.)  Why would any administrator risk his/her six figure salary to stand up for what's right--or to stand up against what's wrong?   -b-  After the latest insulting email "from higher" arrived in my Inbox, I talked to a half-dozen of the best teachers at my school.  Every one of them told me that s/he felt really insulted by the email and that they would retire at the end of the year if they could do it.  I have second-hand (and very reliable) knowledge of a graph that was presented to the Upper Management of JCPS depicting the current state of affairs in my high school:

wherein the left hump represents low performing students (black and low-income students, primarily, but we don't call them that) and the right hump represents high performing students (also known as white and high-income students, but we don't call them that) and the sparse middle zone represents the rare "high achieving" left humpers and the rare "low achieving" right humpers.  Now that's definitely a problem.  Something must be done about that.  A pretty simple solution presents itself to me:  when a kid sleeps in class or acts disrespectfully to a teacher or refuses to do his/her work, s/he should be taken out of the class and told that s/he has one chance to straighten up.  If s/he is pulled out of the class a second time, they are exited from the school.  After six months they can apply to re-enter the school system.  If s/he is pulled out of class after that,  they have just chosen to exit the educational system.  I've taught many lower classes in my 23 years.  I've also peered into many classrooms as I walk down the hall.  I see kids sleeping and being obnoxious.  I hear stories about kids saying "Fuck you" to their teachers.  Would you like to guess what happens to these kids? I'll give you a hint: it doesn't look good if a school suspends or fails too many students.  [Sidenote:  The husband of a middle school teacher told me that his wife and her colleagues in a middle school were told by their principal that NO ONE FAILS this year.  So no one failed.  The school then received an award because no one failed.]  But it gets worse.  The High Muckity Muck Plan differed substantially from my proposal.  It can be summed up with one image:

The red line represents the target.  Pretty simple, eh?  Just like mountaintop removal.  Lots of benefits to this scheme.  The ACHIEVEMENT GAP (which means the difference between black and white scores) pretty much disappears.  It's also a lot easier to make progress toward ever rising goals if your starting point isn't too high.  And the white families who can afford it pull their kids out of public schools which can no longer meet the needs of higher achieving students.  And the school looks GREAT.  Everybody wins.  If Truth is a casualty . . . well, you've got to break a few eggs if you want to make an omelet.  

Hey, there's another benefit.  Once you pulverize the mountain tops, they are going to need some new approach to education (since clearly the Old Ways don't work/are no longer applicable to our Brave New World/Etc.  So in the interests of the Public Good, various companies will create new educational programs and sell them to the schools.  What could be more American?

The Book I Read (2013 Edition)

1.  Nemesis by Jo Nesbo [12/31 to 1/4/2013]
2.  The Bat by Jo Nesbo [1/6/13 - 1/9/13]
3.  Hardboiled America: Lurid Paperbacks and the Masters of Noir by Geoffrey O'Brien [ ____ to 1/20/13] 
4.  The Devil's Star by Jo Nesbo [ 1/5 to 1/25/13]
5.  Claws by Jimmy Palmiotti, Justin Gray, & Joseph Michael Linser
6.  The Redeemer by Jo Nesbo [1/25 to 2/2/13] 
7.  The Snowman by Jo Nesbo [2/2/13 to  2/16/13]
8.  The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis 
9.  The Leopard by Jo Nesbo [2/16/13 to 2/22/13]
10. The Phantom by Jo Nesbo [2/22/13 to 2/28/13
11.  Dr. Proctor's Fart Powder by Jo Nesbo
12.  Tarzan the Untamed by Edgar Rice Burroughs [ fin 3/14]
13.  Just Like Someone Wihout Mental Illness Only More So (2010) 
14.  The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
15.  Power Systems:  Conversations on Global Democratic Uprisings and the New Challenges to U. S. Empire by Noam Chomsky
Tarzan the Terrible by Edgar Rice Burroughs [3/15/13 to ]
 
2012 

The Movie I Saw (2013 Edition)

***** = Must be seen before you die.

****   = Really good.

***    = Worth seeing, but you won't die for lack of it.

**      = A waste of time, but one or two good moments.

*       = You'll lose two IQ points watching this one.              -0     = This will make you want to kill yourself, but only
            after you have mounted a water tower with a 
            rifle and taken out as many innocent bystanders
            as time allows.time allows.  
            This rating was invented after viewing The 
            Rules of Attraction.  ( -0, Less Than Zero, ya 
            know?)

1. Casablanca (1942) *****
2. Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Part 1 (2012)    
    ****
3. Les Miserables (2012) ***** 
4. Muddy Waters & The Rolling Stones   
    Checkerboard Lounge, Live Chicago, 1981 ****
5. The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) ***
6. The Three Stooges (2012) ***
7. The Unknown (2011) **
8. Blade Runner (1982)
9. Pickup on South Street (1953) **
10.  Sebastian Maniscalco:  What's Wrong With  
       People (2011) ****

11.  Ossessione  (1943) ***
12.  The Killers (1964) *
This one prompts me to write my first mini-review.  I saw this movie on a couple of lists of the top noir films.  Having watched it, I couldn't imagine why--until I saw that there was a 1946 version.  Hopefully it's a better film.  This version, though, couldn't be much worse.  It starts off well, with Lee Marvin (who plays a great tough guy here) and some other guy as sunglassed hitman who take down a guy teaching in a school for the blind.  Shortly thereafter, though, the story goes in retorgrade motion, absolutely destroying the momentum it had at the start.  This pattern repeats itself as the movie progresses.  There are a few nice bits here and there--Ronald Reagan (establishing the political philosophy which will stand him in good stead in future years) saying, "I approve of larceny; homicide is against my principles."  A young Angie Dickinson attempting to be sexy (and falling seriously short).  Norman Fell (is he Jack Klugman's clone or something?) saying "No sweat" after the bad guys turn up the heat on him in the steam room.  Mostly, though, it was just a matter of fucking up a perfectly good story by trying to make it more complicated than it needed to be.I'm going to have to let this one pass out of my system before I try the 1946 version.
     
13.  The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Extended Edition, released 2011) *****
This version of TGWTDT weighs in at 3 hours and 7 minutes--which is 34 minutes longer than the original (2010) release.  And the good news is . . . it took the film from the great level to the classic level.  There are just a few added scenes here and there, but they add an amazing richness to the main characters, primarily in terms of humor.  If you know your William Hazelitt, you know that emotional response in the audience is heightened by contrast--hence "On the Knocking at the Gate in Macbeth," and the superb use of contrast (emotional disonance) in shows like M*A*S*H.  To go from a laugh at Mikael Blomkvist (played by Michael Nyqvist--guess it was meant to be, eh?) dancing in his underwear to the gruesome images of murdered women is so disorienting that it actually makes you feel ashamed.  And that, hopefully needless to say, is good.  It makes the impact of the movie not only greater, but also more personal.  You actually become involved in the events of the movie.  And that's what great art is all about, right?
            
14.  O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) **** 

15.  Nick of Time (1995) **
Actually, this is ** instead of * only because of Charles S. Dutton, who plays the shoeshine man.  Dutton is a great actor, and it's shameful that he's relegated to bit parts in two -bit movies.  Everything in this movie that is not Dutton is tired, including Johnny Depp and Christopher Walken.  You've seen everything in this movie several times before.  Except Dutton.  Which is why the next movie I wanted to see was . . . 

16.  Bad Ass (2012) ***
. . . "starring" Chalres S. Dutton . . . although he doesn't actually show up until 38 minutes in to the 90 minute movie.  A lot of this movie was been there, done that, too (see Nick of Time comments), but Danny Trejo did such a great job in the lead that it was still worth watching.  Take a look at the trailer.
Speaking of Danny Trejo, he sure had made a lot of shit movies over the years, and that's a damn shame, 'cause he's really good--very charismatic, very charming.  And, of course, quite believable as The Bad Ass. 

Be forewarned, however: there is a horrible scene involving a bad guy in the kitchen.  When Frank pulls the Bad Husband into the kitchen, you may want to shut your eyes and plug up your ears for a couple of minutes.

17.  The Limits of Control (2009) ** or ***
I'm not at all sure what I think about this movie.  It's directed  by Jim Jarmusch, which is good.  The soundtrack is disturbing and unique, which is good.  There is a good looking woman who is naked in most of her scenes, which is good.  And the guy who plays the lead is quite interesting and engimatic.  Good?  Good.  But the plot is so thin it hardy exists, and there is very litle dialogue.  And you never find out why the protagonist always order two cappuccinos.  Hence 2 or 3 ***.

18.  NYPD Blue: Season One (1993) *****
It's been awhile since I've really sunk into NYPD Blue.  Not sure why I did in the past couple of weeks, but I'm glad I did.  What a fantastic show.  In the same way that The Walking Dead isn't really about zombies, NYPD Blue isn't really about cops busting bad guys.  In fact, both shows--and maybe all great shows--are essentially about the same thing: the subtle nuances of human behavior and the intrinsic nobility of (at least some) human beings.  Both series betray a bedrock belief in the capacity of human beings to show compassion, kindness, and strength.  Both series show the ability of human beings to endure horrific circumstances, to be completely crushed and rise back up, to be destroyed by love (or the lack thereof) and dare to trust and love again.  I don't think there are many shows like this around--and I suspect that they will become fewer in the near future.  (I'm thinking about how at least one reviewer said that the new Les Miserables movie was "too emotional."  As if there was something unsophisticated about expressing strong emotions.

Anyway, great season.  My favorite episode title:  "A Sudden Fish."  My favorite moment: when Andy tells the parents who have lost their child & believe that his spirit has returned as a white bird surrounded by a light, "Yeah, I do see a kind of light."  (From memory--I didn't go back to check for the verbatim.)

19.  Enlightened: Season One (2011) ****

20.  Sons of Anarchy: Season One (2008) ****
Took a little taste of this show a while back, but didn't think it was my cuppatea. Then heard that Jimmy Smits was involved in it in some way, so went back to have another look. I think I started with the last two shows of the fourth season. Which interested me enough to go back to the first show of Season One, and I've just finished working my way through it. It was good shit, too. I am definitely going on to Season Two, and I can't imagine not continuing on from there. Maybe by the time I finish Season Four for real Season Five will be released so I can see that ole Jimmy Smits. 
  
21.  Compliance (2012) *****

Very disturbing movie.  It does a good job of showing how this thing happened--how it was even possible for this to happen. More than that, too, though--it's about how little say we have in our own lives, how easy it is for us to become participants in heinous activities. Check out this review: REVIEW.

22.  A Good Day to Die Hard (2013) **
Not really a good day, actually.

23.  Lilyhammer (2011) ****

Oh, man, what a great show.  And "Little Stevie" is great as the former Mafia man who's been transplanted to a small town in Norway.  But--not that I have any room to talk, I realize that--it's a bit astonishing when the image in your mind's eye is a slim young rocker and you see a rotund older man.  It's just a bit startling, ya know?  Anyway . . . one of the sources of humor here is the depiction of the Norwegians as Super Hippies.  One of my favorite of these moments thus far was when Frankie got locked up in a Norwegian jail.  It's a must see, so just check out Episode 6, "Pack Your Lederhosen." There's also a bit of the ultraviolence on ocassion, which is a bit dissettling, but it's pretty much a necessity given the storyline.

24.  The Neverending Story III (1994) * 
Oh my my.  Check the blog entry on this one: HERE.

25.  Oz the Great and Powerful (2013) **

26.  Crocodile Dundee (1986) *****

27.  Enlightened:  Season 2 (2013) ****

28.  The Ring (2002) ***

29.  Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles (2001) *
I realize that II was not good, but this one . . . Jesus.  There are few things sadder than seeing an actor reprise a role in a movie which is so immensely inferior to its previous incarnation.  As you can see (above). the first movie is one of my all-time favorites.  The second one, which I have not watched for some time, did not make much of an impression on me, but I don't think there's any reason to seek it out.  All I can say about III is that if it were in my power I'd vaporize every existing copy and memory wipe everyone--including myself--who had laid eyes on it.

30.  Bringing Out the Dead (1999) ****
When Nicholas Cage is good, he's really good.  As in Birdy.  Raising Arizona, Adaptation, and Bringing Out the Dead--and hopefully some I haven't seen, as he has made a hell of a lot of movies, and all the other ones I recognize and/or remember are stinkers--he's really good.  There's a kind of mumbling bashfulness to him that really appeals to me.  The kind of guy you want to make good, but are pretty sure that he won't.  Sigh.  IMDb lists 72 movies for Nick.  He's 7 years younger than I am.  If he's washed up, what am I?

31.  Baby Dolls Behind Bars (2012) * . . . but that's kind of the point, isn't it?

32.  Lincoln (2012) *****
Daniel Day-Lewis is amazing.  The most amazing thing about this movie was, of course, his performance . . . but the second most amazing thing was how funny it was.  And in a very real, character-driven way.  Tommy Lee Jones has never meant much to me, but he was superb in his role as well.

33.  Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence [Senjō no Merī Kurisumasu (戦場のメリークリスマス), also known as Prisoner of War in many European editions] (1983) *****

I love this movie.  Of course I saw it because David Bowie was in it, but even if it was someone else in the role I would love this movie.  It didn't do well, I guess.  I remember going to see it in the theater and JA and I were the only ones in the theater.  The manager even came out to the lobby and asked if we were ready to start.  Since then I've seen it several times.  Bowie is quite impressive.  And I love Tom Conti and his puppy dog eyes.  This movie also introduced me to the music (and pretty face) of Ryuichi Sakamoto, who quickly became one of my favorites.  "That's a good one."

34.  G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013)  ****
That's right, four stars . . . take that, haters.  This was a fun movie.  The Rock was awesome and pretty, Bruce Willis was casually (and phenomenally) Bruce Willis (Q:  "Are you okay, sir?"  A:  "Well, my cholesterol's a little high . . . . ), and lots of shit blew up.  There were some tender moments (Duke playing with Road Block's kids), a really good looking gal         (Adrianne Palicki  . . . who appears in one scene in a teeny tiny jogging outfit which is sure to put you into the aerobic zone if you're even faintly male and heterosexually-oriented), and some truly terrific action sequences.  What the hell more do you want?  If you don't enjoy this movie you're a hopeless snooty kabootie.