society
I had a week off. I saw The Human Centipede. Or Human Centipede: First Sequence, as it is optimistically subtitled. Dr. Heiter is a surgeon famous for separating Siamese twins. Bored with separating people, he now turns to linking them, mouth to anus, forming a small chain of three, only one of whom is likely to enjoy a decent meal ever again. And why not?, as Barry Norman claims he never used to say.
This is surprisingly enjoyable, largely due to Dieter Laser's performance as the good doctor ('I don't like human beings!'). He resembles a barely-human cross between William Burroughs, John Carradine and a Pepperami, with maybe a bit of Charlie Brooker thrown in for good measure. I'm sure I'd end up like that if I lived alone (still a looming possibility!)
At Frightfest I took in a couple of films and picked up a DVD of the 1968 Peter Cushing movie Corruption. Cushing plays a surgeon keeping his disfigured girlfriend's face up to scratch using Essence of Decapitated Prostitute. THIS IS NOT A WOMAN'S PICTURE, blares the poster reproduced on the DVD sleeve, THEREFORE NO WOMAN WILL BE ADMITTED ALONE TO SEE THIS SUPER-SHOCK FILM! I wonder if this was ever enforced? Did placard-waving feminists stage protests outside cinemas: WE DEMAND THE RIGHT TO SEE THIS SUPER-SHOCK FILM UNACCOMPANIED?
I'm not sure they'd have enjoyed it particularly anyway, to be honest.
I attended a barbecue on Saturday, to celebrate Phil and Vicki's baby Nicholas' christening - although this isn't actually until October. It was another socially awkward situation for me. I began by knocking (unlit) candles over, then I found the cider going to my head a little too quickly because I hadn't eaten enough. I stumbled into the room where all the food was laid out and started to load up a paper plate, before suddenly realising that, at this point, only children were permitted to eat. It was Vicki roaring 'Children!' at me that gave it away. At least she didn't follow it up with: 'For God's sake, think of the children!'
But what was I to do? Should I put the food on my plate back? That didn't seem right. But what else could I do? Eat it? Oh right yes: I did that, stuffing it into my mouth as discreetly as I could, but then I still held the crumb-strewn plate, symbol of my evil capacity to steal the food from children's mouths. Well, not their actual mouths, that would be disgusting, but you know what I mean.
In the end, after much hesitation, I brazenly strolled outside with the plate in my hand, hoping to turn the situation into some kind of joke. Then a cruel breeze grabbed the plate from where I placed it on a table and deposited on the lawn, far enough away from me that picking it up would have made me terribly conspicuous. I couldn't face the humiliation of everyone pointing at me and whispering 'He's eaten the children's food!', but from this point on was hyper-aware of that white disc out of the corner of my eye, the glowing moon of my shame.
After that it seemed that I had nothing to lose. I might as well get roaring drunk and become an honest-to-God monster, knocking over gazebos and throwing kids onto the barbecue. Luckily, things levelled off a bit then, and I left without causing any further havoc.
I think.
This is surprisingly enjoyable, largely due to Dieter Laser's performance as the good doctor ('I don't like human beings!'). He resembles a barely-human cross between William Burroughs, John Carradine and a Pepperami, with maybe a bit of Charlie Brooker thrown in for good measure. I'm sure I'd end up like that if I lived alone (still a looming possibility!)
At Frightfest I took in a couple of films and picked up a DVD of the 1968 Peter Cushing movie Corruption. Cushing plays a surgeon keeping his disfigured girlfriend's face up to scratch using Essence of Decapitated Prostitute. THIS IS NOT A WOMAN'S PICTURE, blares the poster reproduced on the DVD sleeve, THEREFORE NO WOMAN WILL BE ADMITTED ALONE TO SEE THIS SUPER-SHOCK FILM! I wonder if this was ever enforced? Did placard-waving feminists stage protests outside cinemas: WE DEMAND THE RIGHT TO SEE THIS SUPER-SHOCK FILM UNACCOMPANIED?
I'm not sure they'd have enjoyed it particularly anyway, to be honest.
I attended a barbecue on Saturday, to celebrate Phil and Vicki's baby Nicholas' christening - although this isn't actually until October. It was another socially awkward situation for me. I began by knocking (unlit) candles over, then I found the cider going to my head a little too quickly because I hadn't eaten enough. I stumbled into the room where all the food was laid out and started to load up a paper plate, before suddenly realising that, at this point, only children were permitted to eat. It was Vicki roaring 'Children!' at me that gave it away. At least she didn't follow it up with: 'For God's sake, think of the children!'
But what was I to do? Should I put the food on my plate back? That didn't seem right. But what else could I do? Eat it? Oh right yes: I did that, stuffing it into my mouth as discreetly as I could, but then I still held the crumb-strewn plate, symbol of my evil capacity to steal the food from children's mouths. Well, not their actual mouths, that would be disgusting, but you know what I mean.
In the end, after much hesitation, I brazenly strolled outside with the plate in my hand, hoping to turn the situation into some kind of joke. Then a cruel breeze grabbed the plate from where I placed it on a table and deposited on the lawn, far enough away from me that picking it up would have made me terribly conspicuous. I couldn't face the humiliation of everyone pointing at me and whispering 'He's eaten the children's food!', but from this point on was hyper-aware of that white disc out of the corner of my eye, the glowing moon of my shame.
After that it seemed that I had nothing to lose. I might as well get roaring drunk and become an honest-to-God monster, knocking over gazebos and throwing kids onto the barbecue. Luckily, things levelled off a bit then, and I left without causing any further havoc.
I think.
posted by martin at 10:33 AM
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