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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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« A More Perfect Televised Union |Main| Mix It Up — 6 »

April 2, 2008

A Selection Of Haiku Composed During Recent Meetings

By Dan Carlson

I can see the hills
cooling in the summer sun;
so close, but so far.

In a meeting now;
Internet confuses some.
Boss could use some help.

There's a window here.
I wish I could see the sun
from my cluttered desk.

This is my lunch time,
but they scheduled a meeting.
Thanks a pantload, boss.

Tony's nodding off.
He dips in and out of sleep
like a tired child.

Comments: 4

twig

I was quite impressed
I have a hard time with hai-
ku, too many wo-damn.

Apr 3, 2008 12:49 PM

Trouble

This is to my crazy vegan boss, who only orders that shit for lunch meetings:

I did not climb to
The top of the food chain just
To eat vegetables

Bastard.

Apr 3, 2008 1:57 PM

Popsi_zen

I don't care about
All the office politics
Please will you just die.

(I would never act on these feelings but this is generally what I'm thinking in every meeting.)

Apr 3, 2008 3:15 PM

that bees chick

Friday has arrived
Halfway through the afternoon
My brain has checked out.

Joyous Weekend, all!
I wish "Happy Hour" had
One more syllable.

Apr 4, 2008 12:46 PM

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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