Magic

The best Halloween (and stop-action) movie I know: beautiful, haunted, strange, creepy, sad, sweet, very funny, and very moving.

Happy Halloween!

Chosen is as Chosen Does. . .

Near Dark

October 1963 ~ on the cusp of the Unspeakable. World Series Game One: the L.A. Dodgers (BOO!) vs. the New York Yankees (BOO!!), Sandy Koufax vs. Whitey Ford, Ernie Harwell and Joe Garagiola, funny and sweet radio spots, lots of smoking and drinking and lots more good cheer.

They've been saying around here that Camelot was a myth. The heck it was.

Heroes and Pigs

My neighborhood in Brooklyn, last Saturday night.

 

 

FUCK ISRAEL. FUCK THE PIGS. SAME THING.

Kristallnacht??

Waaaaaay worse. . . After all, the German genociders only murdered a few hundred Jews that night, while the genociders from The Chosen People have already killed 10,000 Palestinians (with many more to come). . .

 

10,0000! THREE TIMES 9/11!

 

And burn in hell all who don't give a shit that the ultimate pimple-dick momma's boy Antony Blinken -- who as Secretary of State of the United States of America, a country of 332,000,000 of which less than 2% are Jews, announces upon his personal appearance at the Palestinian genocide that he's a Jew. I guess that explains how such an ugly venal dumbshit can actually have the future of the human race, and everything else humans have created over time (Mozart, Orson Welles, Balzac, porn) in his dirty little hands. Guess that's what happens when you're told by your mommy since the day you were born that your shit doesn't stink. . .

 

Even Roblox

The Holy Land

Let 'em Eat Cement

Irish

Compare this to the Zio-Nazi pimps, murderers, racists, and Woke scum in the US "Congress":

 

Waters

Seen in NYC This Evening

Fuck the Zio-Nazis.

Unmasked

Beauty and the Beasts

Love at First Sight

Are You an Acceptable?

The young Robert Vaughn sure hopes not, in a classic FKB from December of '56.

Premiere

62 years ago tonight: the show at its most deranged.



And not a cloud in sight. . .

October

If one would ask how the monumental can be tender, October in New York City is still the answer. The city then recalls us to the brutal and to the awesome. Her wood and asphalt and brick skin becomes luminous in any pale light ~ it also reflects the shadow of the rock: New York in such shadow on a sunny day, the glass of her eyes has the blue of the sea. Days and nights slow down, people seem readier to recognize others, before the Transfiguration of Christmas.

New York October, when the magnificent blue sky glows like sapphire, after the sun sets. Streams and ponds and lakes of water flash blue. Great lines of silver-grey poplars rise and make avenues ~ or airy grey quadrangles ~ across the Park, their top boughs spangled with gold-and-green leaf. Sometimes gold-and-red, a patterning. A bigness ~ and nothing to restrain the romantic spirit. . .