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Dan Carlson
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," "The Zeppo," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day," "An Echolls Family Christmas," and "Look Who's Stalking," 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.

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April 24, 2006

Let's Drive Left For Four Hours

By Dan Carlson

I made my peace with NASCAR a while ago. Sure, it's a non-sport that appeals to drunkards, illiterates, high school dropouts, wife beaters, and guys who still use words like "queerbait," but whatever. Might as well let them have it, you know? The only way someone will learn to do better is by messing up on their own, so I figured if we just give these hicks enough time, they'll realize that driving really fast in a circle isn't quite as engaging as, say, a book, or a movie, or a conversation about politics that doesn't involve the phrase "These colors don't run."

But in light of recent events, I've had to rethink my position. I know gas will never be as cheap as it once was; a growing number of consumers for a dwindling supply of product pretty much guarantees that this story will end soon, and not without a mess. But at least it was back down in the $2.60 range for a while, which was nice. But I filled up last week at $2.99 a gallon, and four days later that same station's price had risen to $3.09; a 10-cent hike in less than a week. It's around $3.11 now, and things are even worse on the other side of the hill, where I work. I passed stations on my way to the office today that were around $3.17 a gallon. That's brutal.

So here's my request: Until we find a way to inject some stability into gas prices, maybe we should stop spending so much on gas so you can drive in circles and compete for a stupid check and trophy sponsored by the last legal addictive drugs. (Not that I don't appreciate the irony of a beer company sponsoring a car race, but I don't think your typical NASCAR spectator is able to get the joke.) As soon as gas hits $100 a barrel and we're plunged into a Thunderdome kind of lifestyle, maybe then you boys can have your cars back. But until then, it seems pretty wasteful.

Okay, that's all. Any NASCAR fans who didn't understand any of the words in these paragraphs should contact their guardians and/or parole officers, who can show you how to leave an angry comment berating me for my education, lack of patriotism, and foolish belief that we can achieve great things as a people. Till then, enjoy today's remarkably applicable Quote of the Day.


"Dan, I understand your position and I don't necessarily disagree with it. But this is a sports network. Our sponsors expect us to project an image of good health and clean living."

"I'll think about that next time I'm reporting how the Miller Genuine Draft car did in the Winston Cup."

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The Lines

The Quotes

"The critic is the only independent source of information. The rest is advertising."
— Pauline Kael

"Film lovers are sick people."
— Francois Truffaut

"I hope I strike a blow for chubby bald men everywhere. I hope they rise like an army."
Paul Giamatti, quoted in the Los Angeles Times, 12/14/04

"Let others praise ancient times, I am glad I was born in these."
— Ovid

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the wisdom

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.
— Me, Fall 2003

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