Dear Sirs and Madams,
Shut up and learn to think for yourselves.
So I made a joke. So what? Are you really so stupid that you don't know what I meant? Are you going to be led like cattle by the cruel and arrogant asses running the country? Do you really believe I bear any kind of ill will toward our fighting sons and daughters, who are giving their lives nobly for an unjust cause?
I had my war. If nothing else, I have earned a right to speak on behalf of the thousands of dead soldiers and civilians who can no longer make their own voices heard. When I remarked that college kids today need to study or they'll end up in Iraq, I meant that education is the only guarantee for having viable career options. Do you really think I consider our troops to be stupid? You know better than that. And what's more, you agree with my comments: Not a one of you wishes for your child, your brother, your sister, your lover, to be sent to Iraq. Tell me you do, and I'll call you a liar.
This letter may come as a surprise to many of you, but I've decided that late really is better than never. It's time to sack up, as they say; to strap it on and get it going. My weakness two years ago stemmed from my desire to win at any cost, to impress you, to make you think I could become all things to all people. But I can't, and I won't. It's time for you to stop believing the lies and start thinking for yourselves. Learn from my mistakes, please. The stakes are higher than you know.
Thank you for your time.
I remain your faithful public servant,
Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass.
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Los Angeles, California I'm a twentysomething white male with ambitions to be a professional film critic and generally spend my days getting paid to watch movies and write about it. I try not to think too hard about how I want to build my life around talking about other people's creations and not mine. A compulsive reader and stubborn cineaste, I take an often contrary stance to my more fundamentalist peers and upbringing by celebrating the pursuit of the good, and the Good, in life, love, art and film. If you watched enough episodes of a few TV shows ("The Hungry and the Hunted," "The Cut Man Cometh," "The Body," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day" for starters), you would understand me completely, and you'd also realize that much of my worldview and philosophical insights are heavily influenced by fictional works/programs, and many of the good things I've said in my life are just a regurgitation of someone else's imaginings. I guess I was made to be a film critic. This Month
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Wednesday, November 1
An Open Letter To The American Public
by
Dan Carlson
on Wed 01 Nov 2006 01:58 PM PST
Review: Babel
by
Dan Carlson
on Wed 01 Nov 2006 01:36 AM PST
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Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again. — Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives. — John Stuart Mill We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget. — G.K. Chesterton We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy. — August Van Zorn There is a time in the lives of most writers when they are vulnerable, when the vivid dreams and ambitions of childhood seem to pale in the harsh sunlight of what we call the real world. In short, there's a time when things can go either way. — Stephen King Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town. — Ask the Dust, John Fante |
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