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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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November 5, 2007

Things I Wish I Didn't Remember From My Dreams Last Night, And Their Real-World Antecedents

By Dan Carlson

• With the aid of what I assume was some kind of evil posse, I killed several people by shooting them in the head, then had to drag their bodies into the other room. I remember feeling a sinking feeling in my gut when I realized I'd crossed a line and actually murdered someone, and that I would have to answer for it one day, crime- and soul-wise. I dreamed this because I saw American Gangster on Friday, which includes a scene where Denzel Washington's Frank Lucas shoots a guy in the head, point-blank, in the street one sunny morning.

• There was some fairly freaky (in many ways) stuff with Diora Baird. This is because I made the cataclysmic mistake of watching part of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning on HBO last night, which is absolutely no way to end your evening. I sat on the end of my bed and listened to Chalk Farm for a few minutes just to calm my brain down. I mean, everyone dies. Everyone. Not even Jordana Brewster, who is pretty clearly supposed to be The Surprisingly Resilient Heroine Who Barely Makes It Out, escapes Leatherface's impossibly sturdy mechanized blade. What is that? What is the point of the movie? Anyway, don't ever watch it, even if it's late at night and you're morbidly curious and you feel certain you'll be able to shake the images of slick young teens being grotted. You won't.

Comments: 4

Rob

Well, guess I don't need to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning now. Thanks.

I watched Zodiac before going to bed last week. Then I had this sick dream that I saw a serial killer dump a body and no matter how hard I tried, no one would give me a phone to call the cops. There were no pay phones, no landlines, and NO cell phones. Then I found out that......HE LIVED NEXT DOOR TO ME. And, that's when I woke up.

Brittany

i will i have i've seen TCSM a million times the images never statyed with me i guess that's cause i was brought up on scary movies

mimi

agreed. fucking scary shit. that's not even the proper term. it's not scary it's just freaking gross and gory! wish I'd never seen it :shudder:

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"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