1. Thursday, May 1, 2014

    i learned something fascinating about orson welles today 

    orson

    bro was a super talented young genius who busted out Citizen Kane when he was 25

    wrote, starred and directed what most people think is the greatest american film ever made

    (cough blues brothers)

    when How Green Is My Valley won the Oscar for Best Picture you can hear the audience grumble their collective wth

    so he goes off and makes the Magnificent Ambersons, a 2 1/2 hour epic

    and then runs off and makes another movie only to discover the studio hacked an hour off of it.

    without telling their boy genius what they had done to the followup of his masterpiece.

    it was a great lessson to me because when weird things happen to me i think “dont they know who i am?”

    “dont they appreciate what I just did for them?”

    “didnt I just get water out of rock for them? and make them money? and did it all with a smile?”

    but the story of the Mag Ambs taught me that sometimes people just ruin stuff

    they dont care if youre tony pierce of the world famous busblog

    or some nobody named orson welles.

    shit will get fuct sometimes and you just need to deal and not freak

    because it has nothing to do with you no-how.

    it just is and its stinky and the good lord just wants you to call it a comeback and rock something super awesome next time

    as in right away.

    then i read this love poem old fat Orson wrote to his wife Rita Hayworth and i was all omg awwww

    Dearest Angel Girl,

    I suppose most of us are lonely in this big world, but we must fall tremendously in love to find it out. The cure is the discovery of our need for company — I mean company in the very special sense we’ve come to understand since we happened to each other — you and I. The pleasures of human experience are emptied away without that companionship — now that I’ve known it; without it joy is just as unendurable as sorrow. You are my life — my very life. Never imagine your hope approximates what you are to me. Beautiful, precious little baby — hurry up the sun! — make the days shorter till we meet. I love you, that’s all there is to it.

    Your boy,
    Orson