While still courting, and before marrying, (Bingle) Ingram and the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain rode across one of the grand bridges that connected Manhattan to the other main boroughs Brooklyn and Queens... they rode towards Alphabet City in Manhattan in (Bingle) Ingram's car... the Amazonian drove (for one of the first times in his life)... Ingram was all smiles the whole way through -- very happy.
"Do you like Lit?" asked (Bingle) Ingram while she fumbled with a CD.
"That's French for bed," responded the now-becoming-urbane Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain, "do I like bed?" asked the even-tempered Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain.
"No, I meant the band from California, listen..." and some Lit music played moderately over the car stereo system.
"Is that how many hectares of rain-forest you have left in your city?" asked the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain pointing at a sign that indicated '95'.
"No," said (Bingle) Ingram, "that's the temperature, it's 95 degrees."
"Oh, that's hot," responded the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain.
"Yeah, it's a bit un-seasonable," admitted (Bingle) Ingram happily and even-temperedly, "but it's still snowing not far from here."
"World's going crazy," observed the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain.
Upon arriving in Alphabet City, the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain popped the trunk and removed a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun and gave it a pump by extending his arm and kind-of shaking it up and down.
(Bingle) Ingram marveled at the size of the Amazonian (pygmie) village-chieftain's firearm, it was almost bigger than he was, remembering that he stood at approximately 1 metre in stature (or 1 yard with 4 or 5 inches)... he was so short, as compared to (Bingle) Ingram, that when the two kissed, (Bingle) Ingram had no other option but to have him stand on a convenient step perching him up higher or just to lift him up and hold him in her arms while she kissed him.... anyhoo, we were talking before about how in the so-called 'West' the genre of serial-killer movies depicting irresponsible, numb kind of types who enjoy killing amongst society at large for pleasure.... this kind of decadence was decried in Billy Joel's anthem 'We didn't start the fire,'.... as stated, serial killer gratuitous violence mentality was the bees-knees, this hip Hollywood thing...
as previously stated, perhaps the Chinese in Communist China were right to shield their children from the de-habilitating effects of the constant barrage of sex and violence in popular-culture (sometimes) masquerading as an attempt at mastery, instead plumbing political dissidents (or innocent by-passers) for their organs while they scream on the operating table, their knuckles turning white as their organs are removed while they still live a few more gasps under the Death Penalty (China's being higher than the rest of the world combined) long enough to provide even fresher body organs for the world's largest illegal-donor-organ program in the world....
is violence in cinema then, with Leonardo de Caprio shooting up his high school, and Micky and Mallory going sick on everyone, and Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz shooting everyone up from a motorcycle, is this staple of the cinema, gratuitous violence any good? or is it all a load of horrible useless hogwash?
regardless of what the answer may be, the scene that followed after the Amazonian pygmie-man drew his shotgun from the rear of the vehicle was fit for consumption from generations of Supermen many millenia hence from now, when they cared to wonder about the cultural life of their ape-like ancestors, today's man....
a police-officer approached the Amazonian pygmie-man and asked for a license for the shotgun, this set of a series of events that played out very quickly -- but various times in the scene -- in slow motion:
the Amazonian pygmie-man quickly shot the officer in the stomach, his guts flying into the wall behind him like a Jackson Pollack painting... a stray bullet whizzed by from the now dying policeman's partner and set off (Bingle) Ingram's car-stereo setting off another Lit song that played esthetically thru the rest of the scene.... (Bingle) Ingram, who didn't know her little man was already a murderer, went into shock and even surprised herself by following some intangible and mad love instinct, surprised herself by drawing an arm and shooting the 2nd police officer some 20 yards away..... next came more officers, the Amazonian pygmie-man was an expert knife thrower and took out a few more officers with knives that he pulled out of nowhere and even lobbed off a grenade or two....
"Let's get to the issues!!!" cried a blood-smeared Ingram as she tied a bandanna around her bleeding head and pulled another shotgun from the trunk of the car and nodded at a brigade of swat troops quickly blocking off the street and stealthily approaching them from either end of the Alphabet City street.....
No comments:
Post a Comment