Disclaimer: I will no longer be holding this blog to high brow intellectual pursuits.
Today, I turn my attention to the fireball blast death crunch we mere mortals call John Cusack's career.
John on John: I've made 10 good films. The ones that suck I tend to blank out. It's like I never even made them. Well, there aren't 40 that are great, put it that way. But that's fine. Ten is a good batting average. (2007)
Is it really Johnny? 1 out of every 5 movies you've made was a winner. That means if I went to see a Johnny Q movie every night of the week (at some godforsaken make-believe theater that only plays John Cusack movies mind you) one out of every five nights I would feel fulfilled? That's just not enough. Not for me, not for anybody, and certainly not for the winner of the 1990 Most Promising Actor CFCA Award for Say Anything...,
Ah, the good old days.
Flash forward: This is a picture of you wearing an oversized leather jacket and a camo hat, appearing to be on the way to the gym with your spotting partner aka the musical artiste Pink.
This is you after releasing Must Love Dogs, Martian Child (the horror!), 1408, and Grace is Gone (which I have not seen but believe it to be one of those post 9-11/ post Iraqi Occupation gems)
Que pasa?
A mere 6 years ago you were starring in High Fidelity and perhaps had reached the peak of your game. Now you are spending your afternoons with the human equivalent of a Chinese pug.
I'm sorry John Cusack but What the Fuck.
I leave you with the clip below for nostalgia's sake.
The picture that serves as my main border was taken at the premier "book fort" in the world known as Shakespeare & Co. Bookstore located in the Left Bank of Paris directly across the way from the Notre-Dame Cathedral.
The bookstore, which was first run by a Miss Sylvia Beach, has the distinction of being resposible for the publication of Ulysses by James Joyce. Sylvia Beach was a a very hip ex-pat who was held captive for six months during World War II and was forced to close her shop. Sylvia kept her books hidden in a vacant apartment during her internment. Her street cred led Ernest Hemingway to "symbolically" liberate the shop in person in 1944, but it was never reopened.
Today, visitors known as 'tumbleweeds' are encouraged to stay for as long as they like in the makeshift dormitories lined with books located on the upper level of the shop. The stay is permitted under the condition that they help tidy the shop and leave a short bio and photograph of themself behind. Old George even goes as far as to cook up pancake breakfast for his guests on Sunday mornings. Some 50,000 people have stayed at Casa de Shakespeare and Co., including Henry Miller, Anäis Nin, and Allen Ginsberg who have all shared a pancake or two with George.
Whitman, who claims to be a descendent of THE Whitman, (which most claim is untrue) is widely known for his eccenticities. The film below depicts Whitman giving himself a "haircut" using a candle.
Below is the link to the full documentary on Whitman:
According to the be-all and end-all of reliable reference sources, Wikipedia, a blanket fort is defined as, "a construction commonly made by children, using blankets, bed sheets, pillows, and sofacushions.”Wiki also points out that a blanket fort is sometimes affectionately referred to as "a couch fort or pillow fort."
I am going to build an electronic blanket fort here.
You're invited.
In the meantime perhaps, build yourself a real one:
