Random neuron firing, lame philosophy, literary pontificating, movies, sex, clothes & other femme stuff

Monday, April 26, 2004

Speaking of people with way too much time on their hands

I neglected to relate in the last post that the reason Bart's party devolved into a simulacrum of the one in Gatsby where Tom Buchanan smashes Myrtle Wilson's nose (has anyone ever noticed the vulnerability and, well, prominence of noses in that novel? Myrtle, Wolfsheim, butler w/silver polish, servant w/gasoline, guest at party) was undoubtedly that after the Model Café closed (where the congregation had migrated to change scenery for a few hours) we made the mistake of returning to Bart & Peter's apartment and, caught up in a sort of lather-rinse-repeat spirit, drinking yet more. The return's rationalization: Peter wanted us to watch a couple of films made by a friend of his. One film, Titler (pronounced like the Nazi, not like the person responsible for screen credits), consisted of a series of black & white MTV-style sequences depicting Adolph Hitler (Peter's screenwriter-lyricist-director-editor-star friend) in an evening gown sashaying through the decrepitude of what appears to be the long-abandoned Boston State Hospital (insane asylum) site, belting out obscenely reworded lounge standards ("Cocksucker, cocksucker, suck me a cock"). That single prolonged joke-- hilarious at moments but too often lame, if not pathetic-- constituted the length and breadth of the experience.

So today I'm doing my customary circumblogulation and I see chez one of my loves, Cynthia Rockwell's Boston+Film+Girl, that at a benefit at T.T.'s tomorrow night a "classic" of the Boston Underground Film Festival is being screened--Titler! Well, who knew? Not me, obviously. Clicking around a bit, I see Titler can actually be found on the web, in one corner of an extensive and undeniably imaginative (but to my taste excruciatingly over-wrought) site-- whose patently hyperchronologically-mitted authors occasion the present post's title. En route to Titler (granted, I didn't find the most direct path, which is this way) I ended up clicking through a virtual Mardi Gras of pages blending the surrealistic menace of The Ring's video-of-inevitable-doom, the anxiety-provoking split-screen attack of Kiefer Sutherland's 24, and the psychotic giggling nonsense of Terry Gilliam's animations for Monty Python.

Here are the names of the songs in Titler as given on the site.

: : 05. hello mom
: : 27. cocksucker
: : 09. pardon
: : 35. lesbian love
: : 17. fat gerl
: : 69. diane chutkowski
: : 31. i hate myself
: : 41. ! ada va diezshna da duzshnata !

The one called "i hate myself" resonated completely with me and evoked some admiration. The one called "fat gerl" quickly withered it. It's that kind of work. But as Lincoln is reputed to have said, those who like this sort of thing will find that this is the sort of thing they like. So you might wanna look at the site, just in case.
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