The 818 fiasco proved to be no fiasco 'tall. Me grafting fiascos atop fiascoless settings. Perhaps stemming from the universe's inability to provide me with a feasible starting time to view the only movie we have worth seeing.
Also: Chris Kerr's Projector is at it again.
Call for Work:
P r o j e c t o r seeks poems, visual art, stories, and other creative responses to film for its fourth issue.
Geoffrey O’Brien describes Projector as “a return to origins” and Laurence Goldstein says it “raises provocative questions about film technique, production, and reception.”
Forthcoming issues will first appear only online and potentially be collected into a book. Check out samples at www.projectormagazine.com and send submissions to projectormagazine@yahoo.com that might read nothing like them, but don’t bother giving us conventional criticism or reviews; instead "take those rare moments when writers ask us to see the interior membrane of the image move toward us while the rest holds steady... as though the full circumference of a tambourine were facing us, with the center... coming closer and the frame remaining in its original place" (Elaine Scarry, Dreaming by the Book). Stretch your arm to shake your tambourine in praise of Mother Cinema. Make her smile.
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p s : you read t h i s.
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p s : you read t h i s.
