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Winter Light - Ingmar Bergman
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 766
I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I do, after the lightness of the holiday fodder I wanted something with a little more depth and substance, and so I watched "Winter Light" by Ingmar Bergman. It's all that, but it's as well bleak and unforgiving, a masterpiece, perhaps, but not one tuned to my circumstance.
Holiday Films...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 820
And a few of the films I watched over the holidays with and without the daughter: Shot Caller - her choice, absolute BS Prison film. Like LOL ridiculous. Bullshit. The Sixth Sense, which she liked, the twist and all, but then described it to a friend as "about a dead child psychologist"...No spoilers here. Weiner, about the infamous politician of the same name, and while it's easy to judge there's too often the confusion between a politician - his or her professed viewpoints and politics, with the politician, the person, and not many people are good at both. "Sausage Party", and yes, I certainly have to admire Seth Rogen for imparting his own brand of pot-addled brilliance to ... well, really, what was I thinking? It was brilliant, for sure, but entirely not my thing and life's a little bit too short. And finally, the clear winner of the season - "Nice Guys" - which was that funny and then some. If you see one make it the last one.
Week of High Fever
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1372
The daughter visited, stayed a week, quiet visit, the Kootenays, winter, they're quiet. It's not summer, not by a long shot. Hot springs, Yellow Deli, other small diversions, but really just good to see her.
And when she leaves I notice it, I'm getting far too cold for the temperature outside, cold, shivering, shaking, begin a painful cough...
See her off on the bus, that night it begins. High fever, cold fits, shakes, fever, sweats, fever dreams...
Garbage dreams. Of green mesh plastic trays filled with crockery, tin tea-pots, enough, and I try to clear them away, wake, start again...the same...
I'm serving, ridiculously ornate tea services, busy-ish, but I realize I'm not working, I'm sleeping, awake, I shouldn't be dreaming this, fall back asleep, the same again...
A cold light coming out of the kitchen in a small town Chinese restaurant...
And, from somewhere when I was a child and this sick, the same, feelings of inadequacy, despair, I know it's the fever but can't get over it, the sheets are drenched, soaked, I wake, fall back asleep, the same garbage dreams over and over again...
I'm still going to work. I'm dead man walking, dead on my feet, but we're slow enough it can pass. Batshit comes by, he's been gone for weeks, he's got Xmas presents, dozens of them, sitting there, he gets me to buy him a drink (his tastes have grown this holiday season), some food, he throws the empty Styrofoam container towards the garbage - from his chair 40 feet away - he misses, he beckons me to come over, pick it up, I'm looking at him, WTF? I'm fucking dead, sick as a dog, no patience for this today...he's laughing...
home by 3:15, in bed, asleep, 18 hours of sweating, fever, chills, shakes, work again...
A full five days until it breaks. It hasn't broken yet, still, slight chills and fever, but it's a lot better. The dreams, every night the same. 2 Bowls of soup in 5 days, I try solid food for the first time yesterday, it's wrong, chips, wrong, the texture, flavour, salsa - all salt, metallic, licorice, bitter, nothing tastes like it should, this, apparently, isn't unusual.
It's been a long time since I've been this sick. And coming out of this well I can only hope it's a long time until I'm this sick again. Death, I'm sure, would be easier.
Prozac, and the new epidemic of depression
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 954
An excellent long read that looks at the rise of anti-depressants as treatments for chemical imbalances in the brain.
Spoiler, the short answer is they don't. But it doesn't stop us for looking for quick fixes and all the quacks in Western Medicine are far too happy to oblige.
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