Entries about current events, arts and entertainment (including the competitive sport of poetry).
Saturday, July 2, 2011
I can feel Kevin Smith's pain.
From Kevin Smith's SILENT BOB SPEAKS blog (http://www.silentbobspeaks.com), here's a primal scream worthy of John Lennon's PLASTIC ONO BAND album--and one I can empathize with: "For years, cats like cranky ol’ Mr.“GET OFF MY FRIEND HOLLYWOOD’S LAWN!”would write shit that diminished me as a filmmaker because I didn’t fit into their limited definition of what a filmmaker is. I believed that shit for nearly twenty years. But I’m a grownup now – which means I’ve realized that no jackass whodoesn’tdo what I do for a living can ever tell me I’m bad at my art. That’s some backwards-ass bullshit right there: s’like a priest giving marital advice to newlyweds. If you don’t ever fuck, there’s nowayanything you say about fucking is relevant to the discussion. No artistwill ever tell another artist“You failed.”Thereis nofailure in art, because art – like beauty – is in the eye of the beholder. No audience is aBorg collective: show 100 people the same movie and they’ll have 100 totally different experiences and reactions, far more diverse and interesting than a thumb pointing this way or that. So when the cranks get to screeching about how I’m doing it all wrong, or badly, or in some way other than I should? IknowI’m on the right fucking track. WhenEW [presuming he refers to ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY] writes you off as a loon, that’s a badge of honor. Why be like everyone else when you can be bold and standapart? Good or bad, be remembered for doing ityourway."