I love the Coen brothers, let me just start by saying that. Their films are consistently clever, funny, thoughtful and laced with the sort of dialogue I'd kill to be able to write. Beginning with Blood Simple, way back in '84 they've followed up with ever stronger films that I'll always find time to go and see. If you take a look at the roll call of their films, they could populate a list of Must See Before You Die movies on their own - Millers Crossing, Barton Fink, The Hudsucker Proxy, my personal favourite The Big Lebowski, Fargo, Oh Brother Where Art Thou, the underrated Lady Killers and No Country For Old Men. A lot of film makers would be pleased to have one of these films in their canon and I'm sure that behind those Hollywood smiles there's a few gritted teeth barbs thrown whenever the brothers walk in the room. No one likes a smart ass, after all. For me they're the movie equivalent of Soulwax, in that they just don't seem to be able to do any wrong and they do it with apparently effortless cool.
A Serious Man is released in October
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I signed up for Twitter last night. I suppose the incessant media coverage of it has infested my brain, like an annoying radio jingle. Radio One DJs must mention it at least two or three times an hour and everywhere you look someone is inviting you to add them on Twitter (or is it that Facebook?). I know when you post something, it's a Tweet, which conjures up an image of a trapped avian, calling for food. Which might not be too far from the truth.
At first glance it seems a bit pointless. I never do enough in my life to make it worth updating my Tweets on a regular basis and the people I'm following, a selection of DJ's and producers, all seem to lead depressingly interesting lives. This just leaves me feeling sad and unfulfilled. Is that what it's meant to do? I've tried my hardest to think of interesting Tweets, but 'Cleared more slug carcasses off the raised beds.' 'Had two bowls of Golden Balls for breakfast AND some toast', just doesn't compare favourably to say, for example. Brodinski's last Tweet 'BrodinskiOn the plane for Creamfield Andalucia w/ @ciaotiga, kevin saunderson & jeff mills.'. Why aren't I on a plane to Andalucia, with Jeff Mills? I could well be the first Twitter induced suicide. I wonder if Miss SS and the kids could sue them for Corporate Liability. Something to think about...
EDIT -In its current carnation, I give Twitter a year, tops.
At first glance it seems a bit pointless. I never do enough in my life to make it worth updating my Tweets on a regular basis and the people I'm following, a selection of DJ's and producers, all seem to lead depressingly interesting lives. This just leaves me feeling sad and unfulfilled. Is that what it's meant to do? I've tried my hardest to think of interesting Tweets, but 'Cleared more slug carcasses off the raised beds.' 'Had two bowls of Golden Balls for breakfast AND some toast', just doesn't compare favourably to say, for example. Brodinski's last Tweet 'BrodinskiOn the plane for Creamfield Andalucia w/ @ciaotiga, kevin saunderson & jeff mills.'. Why aren't I on a plane to Andalucia, with Jeff Mills? I could well be the first Twitter induced suicide. I wonder if Miss SS and the kids could sue them for Corporate Liability. Something to think about...
EDIT -In its current carnation, I give Twitter a year, tops.
No comments:
Post a Comment