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Dan Carlson
Houston, Texas

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. 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 certain TV shows — for starters, "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," "Look Who's Stalking," "The Garage Door," "Charlie Gets Crippled," "Wind Sprints," and "Corner Boys" — 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, or at any rate a heartfelt attempt to interpret them. I guess I was made to be a film critic.

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« Mix It Up — 7 |Main| Finally »

November 3, 2008

Seven Strange Ones

By Dan Carlson

I usually don't participate in blog surveys or tag games, but I respect Pastor Kes and have decided to play along. The rules are these:

• Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog (done);
• Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself (see below);
• Tag seven other people at the end of your post and link to their blogs (see next);
• Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog (that seems like a lot of work, but I might do it anyway).

1. As a child, I was obsessed with even numbers. Completely and fully obsessed. The sidewalk leading from my elementary school to the neighborhood out back and then home had pretty standard slabs of concrete, and I stepped on every slab twice: left-right, left-right. When I reached the longer slabs, I shifted to three steps: left-right-left, right-left-right. It wasn't until the end of middle school that I could walk normally down a sidewalk and not worry about where I'd stepped or how many times. I needed everything to balance out, to be even, to have the kind of symmetry some part of me demanded of the world. I don't know why.

2. I'm not embarrassed by the mole on my left cheek, but I'm also not disappointed that my beard hides it.

3. I have relative pitch and a healthy respect for harmony. This probably explains/is explained by the 9.5 years in which I was involved in the school choir, two years of which also included participating in a barbershop group.

4. I dream about flying a lot.

5. I have never left the continent.

6. I feel like a failure if I give up on a book. Even if it's bad.

7. I haven't felt at home anywhere in years.

Bonus fact that proves I was raised in Texas: I can sing all or part of more than 40 George Strait songs. I counted.

As for the next seven I'm supposed to tag, I'm opening it up for anyone to feel free to respond however you like, or to do it on your own blog. I'm easy.

Comments: 2

Melanie Larson

Dan, No. 7 was sad. Literally, I have water in my eyes.

Melanie Larson

And, dammit, I only got 36 George Strait songs. Hopefully that's enough.

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Random Quotes

Words of Wisdom

"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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Things to Know

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