Swell. (Note: That was not a sincere use of the word "swell.")
So the two films I'd most like to see in this year's Virginia Film Festival -- Buster Keaton's Steamboat Bill, Jr. with live accompaniment and Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven -- are not only both programmed at times when I can't see them, they're also programmed at the same time: 7:00P, Friday. How rude. (The film I'd fifth- or sixth-most like to see, Tuvalu, is also the same time, amazingly.)
In what is probably a good thing, considering, this seems to be the least-interesting VFF lineup in my four years here: Beyond the 7:00 Friday slot and a few unseen-by-me canonized classics (Laurence of Arabia, Chinatown, L'Atalante), I'm not even sure what I'd want to watch. Oh well.
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
