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Friday, Oct. 25, 2002 / 11:36 p.m. ~"Bowling For Columbine", etc.~ Last night I got email from someone claiming to be the author of the last book I read. He linked to me from a Google search for the book title and his own name. He clicked on one of my entries, one of the first wherein I mentioned him, and his book, and he wrote to me to thank me for what I wrote. I wrote back, letting him know how flattered I was he took the time..... and asked if he is really who he says he is. He wrote back today, said he is, said he promises. I want to engage him, write to him about the book, ask questions, see what he thinks, find out why he wrote it, what his favorite chapters are, tell him how brilliant I think it was that he started it with a description of a woman being tortured for consorting with the devil. It seemed so incongruous at the time, starting the book, but it all made sense, later. I told Listerine all about it (she and I are like best buds lately, and how fucking bizarre is that?!) this morning at work, and she got very excited, her imagination running more wildly than my own. "Ask him if he has a beard", she told me. "I bet he has a beard, and he smokes a pipe, sits back in one of those big chairs, leans in to write on his computer, leans back, smokes his pipe, in front of a fire in a fireplace". I said, "He wears a tweed jacket too, right?" I want to write to him. I don't want to forget, to lose interest. I hope I remind myself. I can't believe he wrote to me.... I wish he could find me a job in the publishing biz. I was editing Listerine's lettor to the editor of the free weekly yesterday, and I loved it. I realized how good at it I am. I am a hell of a proofreader (in spite of any errors you may occasionally find here), and I can turn a sentence if need be. As I was doing it, showing her what to change, and how to change it, I felt it's what I should be doing, for a living. But I always felt that when I was taking pictures too. I'd start tripping the shutter on my old SLR and I'd think, Yeah, this feels SO right, I need to find a way to make money with this (well, I HAVE made money with it, but still), do it all the time. Thing is, I can't quit my steady paycheck. I have to find something viable, something lucrative, something real and not just a dream, before I can leave my current job. So, Mr Friedman can't help me. He merely dropped by to say thanks, and he took off..... assuming he really was Mr Friedman, er, David. I still think it could have been a ruse. On the Interweb, anything is possible. I've just eaten some Thai takeout, some Basil Rolls, some Chicken Coconut Milk Soup, some Nam Sod, some Tofu Garlic Pepper, and I'm sated. I've been coughing most of the day, only stopping once I left work. I attributed it to all the talking I must do all day there. Just answering the phone is how many words? How many syllables? 15 syllables if I omit my name. It's too much. I couldn't get my throat clear. And I awoke feeling so much better. Being at work made it worse. Ahhhhh, but now I feel good. My neck hurts a bit, a little remaining tension headache (driving into town was a major pig fuck!) stuck, my jaw (TMJ dysfunction too), just here and there. But the week is over. I can relax. This is good. I made it to the movie just on time. Had time just to pee and walk in to see some trailers, and because I thought I might need to run out for water, or leave to cough, I sat in the back, something I never do. I'm a third row center kind of moviegoer, or at least fifth row forward, aisle. No, I sat way in the back, wore my glasses, and it was okay. For a documentary, nothing noted for spectacular cinematography, it was fine. "Bowling For Columbine" was excellent! Everything the blurbs stated in the ad in our free weekly: "Terrific! Rambunctious, Disturbing, and Often Hilarious!", "Incendiary, Savage, Hilarious", "Volcanically Funny!", "Provocative", "Two Thumbs Up!", "Brilliant!".... Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I was close to tears, I sucked them in. I laughed, I wanted to throw my fists in the air and cheer. I was horribly depressed, I was exhilirated, I was inspired, I was thrilled, I was shocked, I was amazed, and overall I was deeply moved. It was perfect. I loved it, I can't say it enough. I was thinking as I watched the scenes with Moore and the two wounded Columbine students returning bullets to the KMart headquarters, This guy has the biggest balls of any man I've ever seen. Michael Moore has the power to do things, he doesn't get scared, he doesn't back down. He seeks answers, he teaches, he is an activist, he is like Dian Fossey capturing poachers in the Rwandan rain forest, he is like Jacques Cousteau teaching us all about what lies beneath the seas, he is like Julia Child teaching us that all food in moderation is a good thing. He is my hero, as they all are. And like any hero, he doesn't let me down. He is focused, he pursues his goals, his dreams, but he is ultimately a questioner. An irreverent, in your face kind of guy. He reminds me of Letterman trying to shake that CBS exec's hand, trying to deliver the fruit basket to coporate headquarters. His humor is similar. But on a documentary level, the editing, the film clips interspersed, the music for each segment, all of it was so well done, really. There were even 'snuff' scenes, people actually being shot. And one man putting a gun inside his mouth, pulling the trigger and the camera cutting away, or the editor editing it just before we'd see the gore. I found myself wanting to see. It all looks like movies now. I'm so accustomed to visual violence, to artifically rendered visual violence, I expect to see it all, real or not. One part that really got me, and I had to fight the tears, hold them inside, was the video footage from the Columbine massacre. The gunmen were highlighted. We watched them survey the damage, casually walking back and forth, tossing guns to each other, 911 tapes playing as background 'music'. Terrifying, real. Moore interviews Marilyn Manson too, and he is not surprisingly incredibly articulate, intelligent, eloquent, and when he says we're all about media brainwashing, the FEAR, the CONSUMPTION, stay afraid, buy, buy, buy, more, more, more, again, a fist in the air kind of moment, a raucous round of applause moment, but it was a tame crowd. A crowd, but not sold out. Very crowded, very spellbound the crowd. A smattering of applause at the very end. And the guy in the row in front of me cried throughout. He was with a date, but he was the one all snuffly, he was the one covering his face during the segment on the 6 year old shot by another 6 year old. I wasn't sure he'd make it through the film. A real empath, I'd guess. Fascinating. Truly. I'd love to see it again, I think, not right away, but I hope it lasts a long time in theatres, I hope more and more people see it, I hope more and more people are exposed to the horrors our own government has inflicted on other countries, and I hope they see how insane our own gun culture is. Ironic that the whole sniper porn situation occurred just as "Bowling For Columbine" was opening wide.... ironic indeed. I was hoping I'd catch the "Donahue" with Michael Moore - it's been pre-empted with all the sniper porn, but I thought I saw that it would be on tonight, and usually that's at 7:00 and 11:00 Eastern, but I checked the schedule for 11:00 and there's no "Donahue" at all, much less that show. (It's a conspiracy) Guess I'll get out of these clothes - I've only had them on since 8:30 this morning, and here it is 12:10 a.m. And there's "Felicity" in twenty minutes. Something to relax to, to unwind to. I need it. Driving around town made me batty (I hate the idiots in this town and the way they drive!), added to my tension from the day's customer service. The cable has been fixed, by the way. I didn't do anything, but someone must've called the cable company. All I know is it was fixed yesterday and I was glad. It looks like it should now. This is a good thing. The coffee grinder is broken still, after I'd thought I fixed it, and I've been looking for a new one, but since my appliances, electronics, etc., seem to last upwards of 10 to 15 years, I want it to be perfect. In fact, I'm thinking of taking the current one apart and trying to repair it. It must be something I can fix..... Tired now, things to do. Tomorrow I go see the Rolling Stones. Crazy. Cost of the War in Iraq
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