A Brief History of Cool: The Madison

Face of the day: Amadeo Modigliani.

Better Poetry.

‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes an’ blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin’ there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Now there’s a wall between us, somethin’ there’s been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

I’ve heard newborn babies wailin’ like a mournin’ dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

A poem to start the day.

For Her

It was just a table
but he made it for her.

He carved the wood,
and sanded down the grain.
The legs were round
and solid,
the top was plain.
You could see the imperfections
and the knots
but it was sturdy and would hold
its charges.

It was made for food
and children and laughter.
It was made for family.
It was made to hold all
the moments that make up a life.

It was made to be home.

It was just a table
but he made it for her.

Sylvain Chomet’s The Old Lady and the Pigeons

Chomet is a masterful visual stylist, an animator of the current generation really only matched by the likes of Brad Bird and Andrew Stanton(depending on Wall-E). His chief influence is Jacques Tati, the purity of image and sound and the downplaying of dialog. His next film, The Illusionist, based on an unfilmed script by Tati, is one the films I am most waiting for on the horizon (it’ll have to wait till ‘09 though).

This short, made in 1996, has everything that makes Chomet great. Gorgeous character designs, comedy and drama (and a surprising amount of scares, actually) all tied to a perfect and simple story with a bizarre twist.

Face of the day: Francois Truffaut.

And now, I’m officially scared.

National Republicans now want to vote for this man for President, according to a new Reuters poll.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Kevin Sullivan on Fox News.

http://www.foxnews.com/livedesk/index.html

Not sure how much longer it’ll be up, but my buddy Kevin is on Fox News as a regular contributor about the blogosphere. Scroll down to the video section.

Congrats man, even if it is Fox…

Face of the day: Faye Wong.

Football Pick ‘Em.

So I am in a NFL Pick ‘Em league. Basically you pick them games against the spread and then rank all the games in the week from 1 to 16, then you get those points for all the games you pick correctly.

I am owning my league.

I have about a 100 point lead over the next place person, and I have particularly pissed off a few of the real die-hard football guys in the league. So now I take it as a challenge, to assert the masculinity of film programmers everywhere by destroying all comers in a fantasy football league.

Which, let’s face it, is just as nerdy as being a film programmer.