I Love The Laconic. Clearly, I Am

My Capacity For Having A Good Time Exists. It Surfaces, However, On Odd Occasions.

The Writer Has A Grudge Against Society, Which He Documents With Accounts Of Unsatisfying Sex, Unrealized Ambition, Unmitigated Loneliness, And A Sense Of Local And Global Distress. The Square, Overpopulation, The Bourgeois, The Bomb And The Cocktail Party Are Variously Identified As Sources Of The Grudge. There Follows A Little Obscenity Here, A Dash Of Philosophy There, Considerable Whining Overall, And A Modern Satirical Novel Is Born.

No One Ever Confides A Secret To One Person Only. No One Destroys All Copies Of A Document.

There Is A Difference, Of Course, Between Real Sentiment And The Trash Of Shared Experience.

The Motion Picture Is Like Journalism In That, More Than Any Of The Other Arts, It Confers Celebrity. Not Just On People - On Acts, And Objects, And Places, And Ways Of Life. The Camera Brings A Kind Of Stardom To Them All. I Therefore Doubt That Film Can Ever Argue Effectively Against Its Own Material: That A Genuine Antiwar Film, Say, Can Be Made On The Basis Of Even The Ugliest Battle Scenes ... No Matter What Filmmakers Intend, Film Always Argues Yes.