Arse souls
I've reached databases on my ITQ course. 'Entering Repetitive Data' was a particularly thrilling segment I recall from this week. Lorraine said that our ITQ tutor, Barry, referred to our monitors as 'slave terminals'. Needless to say, we had a good laugh about that one.
David Essex was on the radio, saying of Susan Boyle that 'her voice comes from somewhere you wouldn't expect it to come from'. Her arse?
I saw a film called Miss Leslie's Dolls at the BFI. Miss Leslie's Dolls (1973) is a film which was once considered 'lost'. Now that I and a handful of other people have seen it, presumably that means it no longer is. Although it might be considered that those people who turned out on a Wednesday night to see this peculiar artefact are the ones who are really 'lost'. Well that is for the reader to decide.
Anyway, Miss Leslie's Dolls has a group of young people seeking shelter from a storm in an Old Dark House presided over by a, er, big-boned woman who is very clearly a man speaking in a dubbed female voice. The ambition of the doll-fixated 'Miss Leslie' is to possess (in the supernatural sense) the body of a beautiful young woman, an ambition continually thwarted (as she/he sees it) by 'Mother' (a skull). Yes it's that kind of film. But it's on the 'hypnotic' side of boring and the notion of bodies-as-dolls chimes in nicely with the wooden performances.
Refreshingly too, Miss Leslie does get to fulfill her mad ambition in the end (sorry if I ruined the film for you). What saves the film, in fact, is its twisted sincerity, as though the makers shared Miss Leslie's fantasies and making this film was the only thing that stopped them from going round killing young women and psychically invading their bodies in real life. Or maybe they did that anyway, who knows?
At work I changed my intranet profile to describe one of my hobbies as 'attempting to transmit my soul into the body of a wood pigeon'. I don't think anybody has noticed.
David Essex was on the radio, saying of Susan Boyle that 'her voice comes from somewhere you wouldn't expect it to come from'. Her arse?
I saw a film called Miss Leslie's Dolls at the BFI. Miss Leslie's Dolls (1973) is a film which was once considered 'lost'. Now that I and a handful of other people have seen it, presumably that means it no longer is. Although it might be considered that those people who turned out on a Wednesday night to see this peculiar artefact are the ones who are really 'lost'. Well that is for the reader to decide.
Anyway, Miss Leslie's Dolls has a group of young people seeking shelter from a storm in an Old Dark House presided over by a, er, big-boned woman who is very clearly a man speaking in a dubbed female voice. The ambition of the doll-fixated 'Miss Leslie' is to possess (in the supernatural sense) the body of a beautiful young woman, an ambition continually thwarted (as she/he sees it) by 'Mother' (a skull). Yes it's that kind of film. But it's on the 'hypnotic' side of boring and the notion of bodies-as-dolls chimes in nicely with the wooden performances.
Refreshingly too, Miss Leslie does get to fulfill her mad ambition in the end (sorry if I ruined the film for you). What saves the film, in fact, is its twisted sincerity, as though the makers shared Miss Leslie's fantasies and making this film was the only thing that stopped them from going round killing young women and psychically invading their bodies in real life. Or maybe they did that anyway, who knows?
At work I changed my intranet profile to describe one of my hobbies as 'attempting to transmit my soul into the body of a wood pigeon'. I don't think anybody has noticed.
posted by martin at 12:44 PM
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