February 11th, 2011


I'm a little needy. You've been warned.

So. Here comes the holiday that I, in my smart-assed mind, like to think of as the anniversary of the release of the film version of The Silence of the Lambs.

(Yes, the film came out Tuesday -- Tuesday, mind you -- Feb. 14th, 1991. The studio made a special effort to release it on Valentine's Day. I love that this happened, almost as much as I love that movie.)

But I'm not only a smart-ass.

But while it can be easier to mainly show my smart-assed side online, I should try to show more. I hope it's pretty clear that I do my best to be sincere, to get as close to consistently Doing The Right Thing as possible (and I'm aware when I fail at that, trust me).

Right now that doesn't seem like enough.

I need a little more support as I try to move my life in the best, most satisfying direction.

But also, I don't feel right doing the Valentinr thing this year. I worry I'd be doing it for the wrong reasons: Love me! Validate me! It seems the wrong use of my energy, which I need to direct towards improving my life situation, something which is a bigger deal than an annual holiday. I know that lots of you who read this are already fond of me; a Valentinr may be the wrong way, at this particular moment, for me to reinforce that. (So here I am asking for love and validation another way. I'm working through this, and that's usually not an elegant process.)

I'm trying to treat myself better. I'm also trying to be more open to being close to more people. That's the big thing: I can use more people in my life whom I'm close to. Especially in Portland, with more people I can actually see in person. More people to whom I can show I'm a worthy person, and, possibly, someone worth being in a relationship with.

I miss that. It's been too long since I've been a Significant Other to someone. Too long. Some of you know how long. To everyone else, trust me: it's been too long. And honestly, I have a better chance of getting into a relationship in person than I do via my online haunts. (Plus getting involved with someone online almost guarantees a Long-Distance Relationship, and I don't think I have the energy for that.)


Can I get over myself? Can I make things work for me? Can I be special in that way to someone I find special?

Can I be better?

Only I can answer that.

To everyone who I'm letting read this: Thank you for being there, and being worthy people. Thank you for listening as I Work Through My Issues.

And what's next is...what's next.
Berthold Run

Motivation can come from the oddest places.

For those moments when, either literally or metaphorically, I need to run as fast I can, I can remember this:


That's Eric Idle as Berthold, the world's fastest man, from the first scene I ever saw of The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. I saw that the scene soon before the film's barely-there U.S. release in spring 1989. Director/co-writer Terry Gilliam brought that clip to Late Night with David Letterman (telling the anecdote about the 1970s BBC executive who thought a severed leg in one Monty Python sketch was a giant penis), and I went from very interested in that film to very, very interested in that film.

Luckily I was able to see it. Columbia Pictures had planned to open it in 200 North American theaters initially and expand from there, but didn't even manage more than 130 theaters at the "peak" of the run. (When I interviewed the film's composer, Michael Kamen, in 1996, and talked about how limited the release was, he said, "That's okay, we know who saw it. We know who they are! We've got a little list.") It showed on only three screens in the entire Washington, D.C. area: one in D.C., one in suburban Maryland, and one in Northern Virginia -- conveniently, the multiplex I most often went to, the 12-screen (now closed, it turns out) in Merrifield.

Mom took me to see it -- I needed the ride, being a year away from having a driver's license -- and it's a film I "got" immediately, as opposed to Gilliam's previous work Brazil, which percolated in my head for years as I puzzled over it, kept revisiting it, and kept re-reading Jack Mathews's' The Battle of Brazil. I've lost track of how many times I've seen it since, though I can say I've seen it twice on a movie theater screen, the way it's best experienced. But I definitely have the extras-filled DVD to fulfill the occasional need to see it, in part or in full, again, in all its manic, overstuffed, lush and often LOUD glory.

"Berthold! Run!" *smiles*
Whale fluke

Recitation and edification: off to downtown soon

The need to get out and do something different is a good need. And I'm glad to say that soon I'll go to the downtown Powell's for something different: listening in on part of a day-long public reading of Moby-Dick.

After that, I'll do something I have done before and rendezvous with a fellow Cort and Fatboy Midnight Movie veteran, Ryan Pollard, to say "hi" and get food at Big-Ass Sandwiches. Here's to late-night food. Especially food that he'll pay for, because I paid for a couple of sandwiches for him and his wife Stacey and he wants to return the favor.