Not that anyone called to ask. Or e-mailed. Don't tell me you left a message on my machine either. Unless you are the robo-dial femme bot that called to inform me that I have won a four-day three-night vacation to Costa Rica. This is not addressed to you. It's very kind of you to offer, but unfortunately, this shut-in is allergic to the sun.
I am in the wonderfully restless city of New York, my friends (in the McCainian sense of the word) and I have finally established a(n) (artificial) connection to the panopticon which less neurotic individuals call the outside world. If you tried to convince a person from the Middle Ages that one day, human beings would be able to channel the world through a flimsy telephone cord, he'd ask you what a telephone was before arranging for a blood-letting...from your head (slightly less painful than finding an affordable physician today).
Last night, I was in Brooklyn. I saw a sneak preview of Matteo Garrone's "Gomorrah" at the BAM Cinematek, which screened to a sold-out audience. It's an incredibly taut film that conveys the terror which has seized the city of Naples as a result of the Camorra's infiltration into all levels of Neapolitan society. The film alternates between scenes of celebration and intense violence, the comic and the tragic, the absurd and incontrovertible fact. It has been described by Garrone as a "war film." Indeed it is. Yet this particular internecine war is insidious, drawing into its ranks decent men, women and children who would like nothing more than to live in peace.
Afterward, I took a walk through Grand St. and then up Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg.
Matt & Kim - Daylight from Grand (2009)
Happy Friday the 13th.
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