The Last Reading from Columbus, OH.
The Last Reading from Columbus, OH.
Dusan Makavejev’s SWEET MOVIE
The film created a storm of controversy upon its release, with simulated (and unsimulated) scenes of coprophilia, emetophilia, fondling, and footage of remains of the Polish Katyn Massacre victims. The film was banned in many countries, or severely cut; it is still banned in many countries to this day. Polish authorities banned Prucnal from using her passport over the movie, which effectively banned her from entering her native country for a number of years. The film was nearly impossible to find since its initial release in 1974, but Criterion released the film on DVD in a region 1 DVD on June 19, 2007
THE SHEEP CHILD BY JAMES DICKEY
Farm boys wild to couple
With anything with soft-wooded trees
With mounds of earth mounds
Of pine straw will keep themselves off
Animals by legends of their own:
In the hay-tunnel dark
And dung of barns, they will
Say I have heard tell
That in a museum in Atlanta
Way back in a corner somewhere
There’s this thing that’s only half
Sheep like a woolly baby
Pickled in alcohol because
Those things can’t live his eyes
Are open but you can’t stand to look
I heard from somebody who …
But this is now almost all
Gone. The boys have taken
Their own true wives in the city,
The sheep are safe in the west hill
Pasture but we who were born there
Still are not sure. Are we,
Because we remember, remembered
In the terrible dust of museums?
Merely with his eyes, the sheep-child may
Be saying saying
I am here, in my father’s house.
I who am half of your world, came deeply
To my mother in the long grass
Of the west pasture, where she stood like moonlight
Listening for foxes. It was something like love
From another world that seized her
From behind, and she gave, not Iifting her head
Out of dew, without ever looking, her best
Self to that great need. Turned loose, she dipped her face
Farther into the chill of the earth, and in a sound
Of sobbing of something stumbling
Away, began, as she must do,
To carry me. I woke, dying,
In the summer sun of the hillside, with my eyes
Far more than human. I saw for a blazing moment
The great grassy world from both sides,
Man and beast in the round of their need,
And the hill wind stirred in my wool,
My hoof and my hand clasped each other,
I ate my one meal
Of milk, and died
Staring. From dark grass I came straight
To my father’s house, whose dust
Whirls up in the halls for no reason
When no one comes piling deep in a hellish mild corner,
And, through my immortal waters,
I meet the sun’s grains eye
To eye, and they fail at my closet of glass.
Dead, I am most surely living
In the minds of farm boys: I am he who drives
Them like wolves from the hound bitch and calf
And from the chaste ewe in the wind.
They go into woods into bean fields they go
Deep into their known right hands. Dreaming of me,
They groan they wait they suffer
Themselves, they marry, they raise their kind.
JAMES DICKEY VS. BURT REYNOLDS ON THE SET OF DELIVERANCE
From Henry Hart’s biography of Dickey: The World as a Lie
Dickey insisted on calling Reynolds by his character’s name “Lewis.” Reynolds recounted in his autobiography how one night Dickey drunkenly started shouting at him.
“‘Lewis, I’m talking to you son. Now why aren’t you answering me?’
'Lewis, goddamnit, I'm calling ya, boy. Come over here.'
'Lewis, I'm talking to you, son. Now why aren't you answering me?'
I said, “Because I’m not Lewis. I’m Burt Reynolds. Tomorrow morning at six thirty A.M. I’ll be Lewis, but, goddammit, right now I’m Burt, so get your big ugly face out of my way. If you want Lewis, talk to him in the morning when I’m on the set!’
It got real quiet. Then he knelt down close to me and said, ‘By God, that’s exactly what Lewis would have fucking said!’”
"In private [Dickey] mocked Reynold’s pretensions as a woodsman, his box of thirty toupees, and the lifters for his wolverine boots."
JAMES ELLROY’S KILLER ON THE ROAD IS THE BEST SERIAL KILLER NOVEL EVER AND A GREAT ASS PIECE OF ART
"I stuck my gun in my pocket, bowed and exited like a great actor leaving the stage after curtain calls for a bravura performance. I had conquered sex and achieved psychic invisibility on the same day. I was inviolate; I was golden."
“‘Now you’re under the drinking age, so act frosty when the bartender asks what you’re having. Act gentlemanly with the lady of your choice, tell her a C note is tops, and then pour her the pork till the hogs holler for hell.’”
"The love noises grew more intense, and the words I was able to discern—"yeah," "give it," and "come"—issued from vulgar voices. it rattled me…To staunch the freeze I turned myself dumb and stared through the beads until I saw two women writhing, friction producing sparks where their nipples rubbed together; two men joined groin to groin…Then all four become one, and I got lost trying to see who was where. I came then, my hands grasping the beads."
"When streetlights illuminated their faces, I amputated limbs and heads and rearranged the parts; effortlessly, bloodlessly. And although unable to express the meaning if the act in words, I knew I was evolving three way symbiotic unions that transcended sex."
"I will not let you pity me. Charles Manson, babbling in his cell deserves pity; Ted Bundy, protesting his innocence in order to attract correspondence from lonely women, deserves contempt. I deserve awe for standing inviolate at the end of the journey I am about to describe, and since the force of my nightmare prohibits surcease, you will give it to me."
"I believe in art. We can’t have truth, because truth is so difficult. But we can have beauty. My obsession is to give to you something different. When civilization ends, Greece, Egypt, India—the only thing that endures is art. A country that does not have art despairs. War is not beautiful. Banks are not beautiful. Architecture used to have a lot of style, not anymore. Religion is not beautiful. Politics is not beautiful. What is beautiful now? Tell me. What is beautiful now?"- Alejandro Jodorowsky (via thatlitsite)