In France
Wednesday, February 23rd, 2005
I have not saluted the venue, the revenue (that's re-venue, coming once again and not income, considerable of course) of Bush. Complacency settles into the media, where complacency is expressed on a scale as wide as the rest of the world, also expressed through the media, how can I speak otherwise in such broad terms occupying as I do only the restricted spot in the world shadowed by my bottom?
There is snow here in Paris, lovely and highly reflective, it lasted longer in the suburbs, farther from the center of power where the temperature is several degrees higher.
Listening to the soundtrack of Kill Bill. The film is remarkable on many fronts, not the least of which being the sound track, and this despite Denby's dismissive review in the New Yorker. Remaining in the grip of past ideologies and personalities. Pauline Kael exercised a powerful influence on the generation of critics that followed her. People who expect the film to follow a strict auteur narrative, Tarrantino does a little more than that, greatly irritating the purists or the prurient of the auteur school. Intolerance in general. Sets people off. The strength of the reaction is in fact more interesting than the reaction itself. Why was the critic so incensed? He called the film crap, this it is not.
What we do not like we crap on.