See the ghost fly over the sea
Last night I watched Casablanca for the third time. I am still in love with Claude Rains. My grandfather remarks that he can't watch even scenes from the movie without remembering how it felt to see Casablanca for the first time in the middle of World War II; how it felt in 1942 to hear "La Marseillaise" drown out "Die Wacht am Rhein." He was a student at the time, but his eyesight kept him out of military service—never mind leaves, he nearly hadn't known trees had branches until he got his first pair of glasses. Hirshke, you're blind as half a bat . . . He worked in an ink-making plant and finished his dissertation and my mother was born in 1946. And by the time I saw Casablanca, this was all family stories: in the past. For me.
This afternoon, since the latest scene was my responsibility, I worked on the collaboration with
I seem to have several songs from Rogue's Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys steadily stuck in my head, on rotation. I may have to buy the entire set after all.
Oh, you pinks and posies
Go down, you blood red roses, go down . . .
Talk to

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People have been telling me to see Rashomon since high school, so I'm planning to watch (or at least tape) it tomorrow. I'm also looking forward to The Bridge on the River Kwai and The Night of the Hunter later this week. It's almost an embarrassment of movies; I don't usually watch so many in a month, but they're free . . .
There was a theatre here that showed old movies. Of course it closed down . . .
Damn. I'm sorry. The Brattle Theatre is a godsend; I haven't taken advantage of it nearly as much as I should, but it has allowed me to see Lawrence of Arabia, Orphée, La belle et la bête, and Der Himmel über Berlin on a proper screen. Also they had a Muppet film festival at the beginning of this year, and although I wasn't in town for it, I approved of the idea immensely.
though I was a little disappointed by its lack of a gratuitous sex scene for Beau and the unicorn. I just can't imagine not wanting to lose one's virginity to a mythical creature.
Ah, see, fortunately there's always fanfiction . . .
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Yeah. The existence of TCM is sort of marvellous. Even Bravo edits movies and throws in commercials nowadays. And it baffles me how HBO, a pay-channel, still shows movies in pan-and-scan.
but it has allowed me to see Lawrence of Arabia, Orphée, La belle et la bête, and Der Himmel über Berlin on a proper screen.
Aw, I really envy you. Particularly for Lawrence of Arabia. I bet that looks fantastic on a big screen.
Ah, see, fortunately there's always fanfiction . . .
Heh. I read the first chapter. Interesting. But I find myself reluctant to continue if no girls show up--I'm afraid my tastes in porn are a little more limited than they are when it comes to other art forms.
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Ergh.
And AMC has commercials now. Everybody sells out.
I bet that looks fantastic on a big screen.
It was jaw-dropping. That's the only time I've ever seen the film; I find myself reluctant to try it on a television, where I'm not sure the heat will shimmer over the desert in quite the same way, or the sand fade into the sky.
Heh. I read the first chapter. Interesting.
Gave me a bit of a start, I can tell you. I mean, it's always nice if your work inspires people, right? I just wasn't prepared for my legacy to the internet to be unicorn slash . . .
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I watched it on my grandmother's 43 inch widescreen television and I sat very close to the screen. But it's probably not quite the same.
I mean, it's always nice if your work inspires people, right? I just wasn't prepared for my legacy to the internet to be unicorn slash . . .
Just imagine how many orgasms you're indirectly responsible for. That's greatness.