Monday, January 29, 2007

Public Service Announcement: My Arm is Fucked & I have tomorrow off

I'm in a really bad mood for several reasons, not least because every time I exhale, my left arm shoots out in pain and makes me want to die in Dante's shallowest level of Purgatorio. Lame. I'm tired. NSB is pissing me off for no good reason. I had an idea dinner of lamb and red wine, and yet I got little of what I wanted to do done. I only got through 18 pages of a friend's novel rewrite before getting a bit fed up and starting on the film script for "Ferris Bueller's Day Off." I saw that film 6 times at the cinema when I was 12. Every friend I had who hadn't seen it I insisted on taking. FBDO is funny to read as an adult. It's a lot more political and philosophical than I probably undestood at the time. I just thought he was clever and anti-establishment and that was enough for me.
              My uncle went to Canada to protest
              the war, right? On the Fourth of
              July he was down with my aunt and he
              got drunk and told my Dad he felt
              guilty he didn't fight in Viet Nam.
              So I said, "What's the deal, Uncle
              Jeff? In wartime you want to be a
              pacifist and in peacetime you want
              to be a soldier. It took you twenty
              years to find out you don't believe
              in anything?"
                         (snaps his fingers)
              Grounded. Just like that. Two weeks.
              Be careful when you deal with old
              hippies. They can be real touchy.
Here's another poignant line:
              My mother was a hippie. But she
              lost it. She got old. If she listens
              to the White Album now? She doesn't hear
              music, she hears memories. Nostalgia is
              her favorite drug. It'll probably be
              mine, too. I hope not.
Wait. NSB just got sick. Sometimes breaks mixes can sound gay, and then, like a bad trip, pull themselves up by the socks and produce a good riff. My arm really hurts. I've got 15 days til writer's group, 25 days til breakspoll, 27 days til scriptwriting retreat, 29 days til my film premiere. I'm fucked. I am working on a new script, which I'm not telling anyone about. Top secret. If I tell anyone, the energy's gone. Fuck it. Oh yeah, I've been tagged. next blog for that. A x

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Blogger Stuart Ian Burns said...

Wow, which version of the script are you reading. That dialogue's not in the film so it sounds like the first draft that John Hughes famously wrote over the weekend then cut before filming and has been doing the rounds online. That's why you don't remember the film being that critical. I do wish it had featured more of that dialogue though. Thanks.

8:01 AM  
Blogger Amy said...

It's from You must been more knowledgeable than me because I didn't know about the script-in-weekend-story. I just thought some of it had flown over my head. To be honest, when I was reading it, I did think some of it didn't ring true. Not because they were teenagers (obviously there's a lot of bright kids out there) but perhaps also a bit too OTT for a film like that. ? Maybe not.

I've just twice the amount of recommended dosage for Lemsip. I'm scaring myself.

A x

2:29 PM  

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