The unreliable British winter has produced an early thaw in my humour, and so I have decided to study some of No Good Boyo's native Welsh culture in order to understand why..., well, just why, basically.
I found an Internet publication called Slate, which could not sound more Welsh. In fact, it is an American literary journal of some worth.
On its pages I read a review of the Sundance Film Festival, the very name of which conjours images of "liberal arts" students with inaccurate facial hair and a fear of the word "tailor". A visit would not be entirely futile, however, if only to see the following:
My favourite film at Sundance 2008 was "A Complete History of My Sexual Failures", a documentary about an English waster who interviews each of his old girlfriends to figure out why they dumped him. His project is mostly a failure and leads to various forms of humiliation, including a series of attempts to cure his malfunctioning penis. (My emphasis)
My favourite film at Sundance 2008 was "A Complete History of My Sexual Failures", a documentary about an English waster who interviews each of his old girlfriends to figure out why they dumped him. His project is mostly a failure and leads to various forms of humiliation, including a series of attempts to cure his malfunctioning penis. (My emphasis)
The wretch, pictured above, displays the British inability to link cause with effect. To say that the project is "mostly a failure" because it leads to "various forms of humiliation" is to misunderstand what the cinema-goer really wants.
6 comments:
It sounds like an arthouse classic. I don't know whether any of the young ladies urinated on him, but it would have broadened the film's appeal if they had.
Urinating on the young man may have been the most direct way of letting him know his attentions were no longer needed, Mr Gorilla.
I fear, however, that this youth might find that sort of behaviour stimulating in a German sort of way.
I an't seen that films, 'cos you has to pay to get in, but the inadequacy of Englishes men is a blessings in disguises for Spaniards, Afro-Caribbean men and Gyppoes, since there is lots of they English girls left gagging for it.
My own techniques is to douse myself in diesel fuel to hide they smells, sidle up to they young ladies and ask:
"Hello m'dear. Have you got any Gypsies in you?"
"No."
"Would you likes some?"
It works about once in a thousands, but if you is persistent you can gets it about once every six months.
Mrs B, I have made no in-depth reading of Herr Adorno's works, but it seems to me that his "culture industry" is what the cinema-goer really wants, otherwise, as it is an industry, and the cinema-goer is the consumer, it would fail. He seems to be saying that no reflection on this industry’s objective legitimation is allowable simply on the grounds that people consider it (the culture industry?) important. True. We should just enjoy it for what it is, or create some more of it that is more to our taste. So why is he bothering?? If I may be forgiven for saying so, the man is clearly not getting out enough. Tell him to come round my house and I'll see if I can cheer him up a bit.
Mr Dilo, Adorno like all great philosophers considered it his duty to make people feel justifiably miserable about their lives in the hope that they might do something more edifying - such as buying his books.
The point I was making is the one that you have echoed, namely that cinema is good for nothing but jeering at fools. The tragedy of Adorno is the he, who above all despised the masses, did not understand that mass culture is the best way of doing so.
Gyppo, I cannot thank you enough for your contribution, so I shall refrain from doing so.
Mrs B., you are so very right, and although I feel in no way miserable enough to buy one of Herr Adorno's books, I do feel strangely drawn into this argument... Why did he feel it was his "duty" to point these things out? He'd clearly never had a proper job, never needed to relax after a week of actually doing something. He probably never sung or danced or laughed in his life. I bet he thought Richard Bloody Wagner was the pinnacle of human achievement, didn't he. Grrr.
Mr Gyppo should make a film, he's clearly been around a bit. I'm sure the chattering-classes - who've never ever had him or his any of his family living next door to them - would love to hear all about his antics!!
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