Monday, July 9, 2018

Twilight Zone: The Hunt or "the existential exhaust trail"

Colin Devasse noted in his paper "Visions of the Fatherland", that existence is bolstered by pride, though pride, unlike existence, is largely vaporous and unproven, an abstract, a mere subject.  Existence on the other hand is a set of objects at a given time.

Pride then is the crayon that shades the picture, near its completion, not the charcoal that makes the outline in the early stages.

The tension between the Platonic categories, the subjective and the objective:  myself in the house, ditchbank not in view, but thinking how pretty it looks now after my early morning labors over the weekend.  I can conjure it in my mind, just as I did before the work, envisioning even then what prettiness.

And out back, a burned crater where an angel fell to earth.

Sunday, June 24, 2018

look Alex, the other movie.

One of the better adaptations that capture King's provincial loyalty.  Needful Things is another that springs rather easily to mind.  King's own film experience was set in Wilmington, NC, reflecting the southland, rather than King's accustomed rural Maine.  Stephen Macht does a very thick New England accent and goes into his role with gusto, but here Brad Dourif affects no discernible accent, save for a slight southern drawl.  In the third pic, with the tear running down his cheek, the exterminator explains something of his experience in Vietnam.

I repeatedly told me buddy to specify which Graveyard Shift film he was talking about, which he did not do, whereas I always said, "not the Stephen King one", because I thought of this one when I heard the title.

Also, the film is based on a short story that is roughly twenty pages, which is retold and then expanded upon in the rising action of the film.  The short story was of course collected in King's book Night Shift, which features quite a few stories that were later adapted for film and television.  I note my favorite of the book was the first one, and the most lengthy of the book, which is a riff on Lovecraft, told in the form of old correspondence, much like some of the old novels, as a series of letters, collected, that when combined for the body of the story.  The book is much more straightforward than later King writing, staying close to the main interest of scares, whereas his later work is much more esoteric(?).

I also wrote several blog posts and one thousand words on a novel fragment, today.  Phew.

I am the man.  And so far, Master of My Domain.