The Alpha and Omega of Existence, and Film!
Der Untergang (2004)
Frank is getting low now...
For an intimate portrait of the last days spent by Hitler in his bunker, check out the all around exquisite but disturbing Downfall (Hirschbiegel 2004) (Sony 8/02/05).
posted by Graveyard Frank at 3:12 AM
Francis Trautman resides in the Carl Family Motor Lodge in St. Martin Parish, Louisiana, and also for long periods in the backseat of his ’73 Chevy Impala. “Graveyard Frank” is currently working on his next project, a travel guide to East St. Louis, as well as, a script for an episode of NBC’s “Watching Ellie.” Please do not inform him that the program has been cancelled. He holds degrees in Semiotics and Forensic Entomology, both at the Mail Order University of Toledo, Ohio, in addition to an honorary PhD from the Businessmen’s Association of Greater Baton Rouge. In his spare time, Frank enjoys his collection of porcelain unicorns and velvet paintings of clowns [Not the sad ones!], and his turn-offs are legal action and girls who won’t commit. His advice to young writers?: “Hop a bus. Join a cult. Kill a vagrant. It’s just great literature. Period.”
Ambrose Quibodeaux Confronts Destiny
Ambrose Quibodeaux was alternately toying with an old song on an even older accordion and sipping chicory from a mason jar when he first met Ambassador Alacazar, the elite head of the Board of Science and Ontology from the Planet Mungo.
Ambrose Quibodeaux had been for some time fingering the accordion and debating on either playing “You Are My Sunshine” or the “Mardi Gras Mambo,” as carnival season had descended upon St. Martin’s parish once again. However, refilling the glass with a sigh, he had come to the notion that the old thing has seen its last fais-do-do probably years past, and wouldn’t play anyhow.
Then upon looking up, he discovered the Ambassador across the table from him peering quietly over the edge. Ambrose was far from surprised by his visitor’s campy, elongated, green head, silver jumpsuit, and colorful spangles.
As Ambrose decided the little creature was an early entrant for the parade, the Ambassador reached for his universal translator, which was located on a big, glittering box on his chest, and turned the dial from Mungan (his own dialect), to Earth/Acadian.
Ambrose laughed “Bonsoir, mon ami!” and the Ambassador opened a lipless gray slit in the center of its face to speak:
“How y’all doren’, cher?”
<"Well, then," the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad." Lewis Carroll>
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