viernes, 25 de abril de 2008


Peter GreenawayMy absolute most hated filmmaker of all time. Name any movie he’s
made, and I will start to wretch. I want to run this fucking stuffy prick over
with my car...fourteen times. Never, and I mean never, has there been a more
insulting, vapid, boring, laughable filmmaker (or artist, author, musician,
mime, anyfuckingthing!). His films represent the absolute worst elements in art
film. Take Cocteau, give him a big hard-on for overanalyzing Shakespeare along
with the visual flair of the “Flashdance” set designer and you’ve got Peter
Greenaway’s sorry ass. Every movie he has ever made is a steaming pile of
exploitative bullshit. I have met film snobs who deem this guy one of the few
true artists in cinema, and I’ve told each and every one of them “You’re lucky I
don’t throw a pot of boiling coffee in your fucking face!” It’s because of this
guy I feel sick whenever I see an orange or blue color jell shining over a man’s
penis. And to think I used to get so much out of that!

Leer blogs de cine consuela demasiado y te hace sentir menos estúpido por pensar como piensas. Lo malo es que uno se emociona y termina siendo un cliché fanático de star trek.

No quiero escribir mucho. Estoy traumado.
Me anima un poco la ineptitud del dibujante al hacerle decir comrade bourne a tarkovsky...aunque sea la parte más chistosa de esto.

Y hablar del lenguaje que utiliza un personaje de tira có sé...