“Nature is always pulling the rug out from under our pompous ideas”
“The Board at California Institute of the Arts sends it’s warmest regards”
“Have I told you how horny I am?”
“There is a tragic and a comic repetition. Indeed, repetition always appears twice, once in the tragic destiny and once in the comic aspect. In the theatre, the hero repeats precisely because he is separated from an essential, infinite knowledge. This knowledge is in him, it is immersed in him and acts in him, but acts like something hidden, like a blocked representation. The difference between the comic and the tragic pertains to two elements: first, the nature of the repressed knowledge – in the one case immediate natural knowledge, a simple given of common sense, in the other terrible esoteric knowledge; second, as a result, the manner in which the character is excluded from this knowledge, the manner in which ‘he does not know that he knows’. In general the practical problem consists in this: this unknown knowledge must be represented as bathing the whole scene, impregnating all the elements of the play and comprising in itself all the powers of mind and nature, but at the same time the hero cannot represent it to himself – on the contrary, he must enact it, play it and repeat it until the acute moment that Aristotle called ‘recognition’. At this point, repetition and representation confront one another and merge, without, however, confusing their two levels, the one reflecting itself in and being sustained by the other, the knowledge as it is represented on stage and as repeated by the actor then being recognised as the same. “
“ [Opening]
The screen fades in from black, two highschool girls (one blonde, one brunette) sit on the hood of a baby blue 1970 Chevelle in the parking lot of the school. Summer is over but the black pavement still churns from the heat of a Southern Californian eternity. They are smoking cigarettes as the sweat builds and drips from their faces, their eyeliner so heavy that from a distance it looks like they are wearing sunglasses. They are well dressed in 70s Vintage, the Blonde turns to the Brunette…
Blonde: It’s just hard because I love him, I’m not sure what to do.
Brunette: Have you seen him yet?”
Blonde: I saw him after first period but he ignored me.
Brunette: Is he really going to fight today?
Blonde: Probably, he’s got nothing to lose anyway, he’s a loser.
Brunette: I hope he gets beat the fuck up.
Blonde: I won’t feel bad at all if he does
Brunette: Yes you will. You’ll coddle him and heal him and kiss him and mother him until you one day you leave forever.
Blonde: That is SUCH bullshit he’s so FUCKING stupid !
“The sun and moon colliding in space I wonder which one would win
I hope the sun and the moon collide so you’re forced to go outside and play with me”
“Can I talk about Becoming without having to worship some sky God?”
“Mike Kelley is DEAD! Mike Kelley is dead!”
“We got to the Beverly Hilton and all went up to Bowie’s enormous suite. I found myself more and more fascinated by him. He was beautiful and clever and poised. I was incredibly turned on. Bowie excused himself and left us in this big living room with white shag carpeting and floor-to-ceiling windows. Stuey brought out Champagne and hash. We were getting stoned when, all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens and there is Bowie in this fucking beautiful red and orange and yellow kimono.
He focused his famously two-colored eyes on me and said, “Lori, darling, can you come with me?” Sable looked like she wanted to murder me. He walked me through his bedroom and into the bathroom, where he dropped his kimono. He got into the tub, already filled with water, and asked me to wash him. Of course I did. Then he escorted me into the bedroom, gently took off my clothes, and de-virginized me.
Two hours later, I went to check on Sable. She was all fucked up in the living room, walking around, fogging up windows and writing, “I want to fuck David.” I told him what she was doing and that I felt so bad. Bowie said, “Well, darling, bring her in.” That night I lost my virginity and had my first threesome. The next morning, there was banging on the door and it was fucking [Bowie’s wife] Angie. I was terrified of her. David said not to worry about it. They were already at the point where they had separate rooms. She probably knew he’d be in there with girls… or boys. He was totally bisexual. I saw David many times after that, for the next 10 years, and it was always great.
THRILLIST: Still, you were a 15-year-old kid and he was an adult man with a lot of experience, and power, and drugs. You don’t see any problem with that now?”
To do List 8/24/2018:
Wake up,
Eat bagel,
Shower,
Add harry potter prisoner of azkaban quote to announcement,
Add jocks vs. rats, psychedelic section from script to announcement
Call Alex
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