Encounter #145: Watermelon in Spain

Seeds spring life. I've never been to Spain. I'd like to go there. Everybody I know says it's the best. --RWK

Encounter #144: Stupidities

Trying to figure out how to reckon and rise above my own stupid stupidities over here, it helps to have a beacon like this dude. Definitely my favorite Herzog. --RWK

Encounter #143: Why don't you open your eyes?

Move like this. But, really, open your eyes if you're gonna feel this love thing. --RWK [via bale]

Encounter #142: Géraldine Pailhas in a doorway.

From Maurice Pialat's Le Garçu, his final film, which I saw Friday night at BAM with a number of Brooklyn film nerds before watching the Rockets break down. This shot is, as Dave put it, really cinematic on top of, as we boys may put it, really sexy. And that turn on is really cool, too. I may write something more coherent about its more safe-for-work qualities later. But it's late now and I should pass out. Got plenty to do tomorrow. --RWK

Encounter #141: This is brief

I must remember this and try to control myself. --RWK

Encounter #140: One among many.

MJ in the middle there had this little visual ditty made for himself, apparently. It's a good joke. Or, terrifying. Keep those gloves on, dude, and get back in the studio. Sing something fun again, maybe? That'd be cool. Cooler than this. --RWK [via Carlton]

Encounter #139: Worst come-down ever

Drunk man robs liquor store, or tries to, and destroys it. Perfect. I watched this without the sound the first time because I had some tunes blaring and, yup, that's the way to watch it. If you watch it with its own audio, there's some dude talking the whole time, "narrating" or some such, over a cheezy synth bubble soundtrack. Cuz it's from a cops-n-robbers type of program for the television. Those are the worst. --RWK

Encounter #138: Unheard of.

I'm pretty tired of white people talking about Wayne (as I know Cuy is as well) but allow me this: Wayne knows some hoops. He drops some names you probably don't even want to pay attention to, like Spencer Hawes, noted seven-foot Pacific Northwest redneck Republican. Also, it's unclear who his "we"s refer to, even though "we" all know he's from Nola, not Sacto, and I'm sure he drinks clear alcohol with CP3. He's a genuine weirdo. Related: Maybe my horned rim glasses (yup) should be bigger? --RWK [via]

Encounter #137: ...about a fish.

Here's a little ditty about dreams in Arizona starring Depp and Dunaway (with a lil Gallo in the background) directed by Emir Kusturica). Our friend Hoodlum says this film is all dreams, always. Sounds like my cup of tea. --RWK [via @slayoyayo]

Encounter #136: cinema is a dissolve of (more) white in on white

And it's funny. Yes, DL, I get it: I'm seeing it. Thanks. You're hilarious and beautiful. There's so much whiteness it had to reach the night. --RWK [via d-kaz]

Encounter #135: Wild Whites

Now for a Diva (or three) via Martha:

Even if you don't really like Stevie Nicks, just watch this video. The singing's spontaneous, the white greecian wear is out in full force, the entourage is in place, and the hair's blowin' in the wind--she's just compelled to be a Diva here. Her voice comes through a huge noisy room, through the shitty camcorder, through the internet and it sounds pitch perfect.

My affinity for Fleetwood Mac has grown by leaps and bounds in the last year and this is just the latest bit to bolster that snowballing... Her voice hurts, kinda. --RWK

Encounter #134: Sun San Melt Francisco

Just saw this image in this latest BLDGBLOG post, stolen from this flickr user and I had to share it here. The light in California sure is different. I miss that in a different way than I miss the vegetables. --RWK

Encounter #133: "Just stood in the corner..."

Real friends, real different sizes. A real foot-to-belly pet. A real good way to start the weekend. --RWK [via Bill]

Encounter #132: Fuck Yea Kittens

Really. I know it'll be everywhere in a second. It's already everywhere. It deserves it. There's a lot of good ones in there. Good one, girl. (And Dad?) --RWK

Encounter #131: Who wins? Dave?

I know it's probably annoying to deal with that kind of behavior but, still, isn't Dave just kind of mean sometimes? Also, the Unibomber joke was flat, and rude. But the final punchline, Jaoquin-approved, is a good one. Oh, and, read Karina and Dan; they're smart. --RWK

Encounters #129, 130: Buenos dias, hide + seek

My friend Andrew's baby girl is a perfect "subject" and a superstar. --RWK

Encounter #128: Former famous white guy falls off stage.

Word 'round the 'Net is that Jaoquin Phoenix has turned into an ugly white rapper. This vid tells us that most of what he's good at, it appears, is falling off stages. I need to get more positive. I had a good day. --RWK [via Brynaz]

Encounter #126: Friday Child

This fucks me up. Even out of context. Van Morrison's whine is just pure hurt, the kind of hurt you can feel from your ears (through your heart) to your belly-bowl. This is a clip from yet another Garrel film I have yet to see, btw, called Sauvage Innocence, which is about heroin, of course, and, I imagine, killing yourself. I want to see it. Then I want to dance. Let's go dancing already. --RWK [via Dave's shared list, and this]

Encounter #125: Sit down, son.

Dear Dwyane,
You are real. You make me laff and cry. You make OJ sit down, like your son, son. You make me think, Wow, I will never do that. You remind me, Yep, I am a top 4 talent. You play hard.
All the best!
--RWK

Encounter #124: Une Catastrophe, de Jean-Luc Godard

Nathan is hella correct, my friends. This thing is just too fucking good. So good I need to jump out my window into the rain--no pants!--and run around the block all freezing, laughing as the drops pelt my face and chest and my (rully long, for me) hair gets pushed flat on my forehead into my eyes so by the time I'm circled 'round again not only am I colder than cold but I'm straight shivering everywhere and, well, I'm blind, too. Dude can't quit tennis, can he? --RWK