The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.
(Joseph Conrad.)
In many ways it is like the Slaughter of Innocents or Rape of the Shire. It is no kind of lesson to those experiencing it, not in the heat of the moment. Rather, it is a warning to those who read, and, as Scott McCloud justly points out, tacitly and with secret relish add their knives to the resultant “blood in the gutter.” Murdering the Object: it is still a Thing.
I’ve been pretty lazy about posting shit up the last few days. The thing is this…
La Madre Terza Italian trailer. Daria e Asia — Dario Argento’s ladies. In Mother of Tears, the final chapter of the trilogy begun in Suspiria, the ladies’ male figure, director, father, former partner Dario, has written a script which has them chased, stabbed, raped, beaten, and threatened with cannibalism. And you thought your family had issues.
I got this cracked version of a new program that does sequential screencaps on a timer. For those who do not know what that means, it means it takes a still digital photograph of whatever video you are watching on your computer. It’s basically an amazing program that is better than any other I’ve ever used, and I’ve spent the last two days obsessively watching and screencapping Dario Argento movies, specifically ones with his special ladies in them (Nicolodi, his longtime partner, and Argento, their daughter). Mainly Stendhal Syndrome, which I for some reason rewatched again in the middle of the night and recapped because I found a higher quality version.
Also, somehow between yesterday and today, I’m pretty sure all I’ve eaten is a box of reduced fat Cheez-its. I don’t know why I was incapable of stopping, either the movies or the crackers, but I am relieved that I finally put a lid on it. Actually, come to think of it, I’d probably still be doing it, honestly, (I haven’t even done Profundo Rosso except for the trailer!, and I have a box of Triscuits in the pantry that isn’t even open yet) but life intervened and I’ve had obligations this morning.
Rapist and murderer Alfredo regards Detective Anna Manni, whom he has raped and kidnapped and forced to watch him do the same to another young woman, through the hole he just blew through the victim’s jaw. She is trapped in a snow globe with a statue of the David, rendered helpless by her Stendhal Syndrome, the overpowering physical reaction to art. Yeah, I watched this twice yesterday. What the fucking fuck is the matter with me? Do I just never want to sleep again?
But if you ever need pretty much every single frame of The Stendhal Syndrome, well, you know who to hit up.
Pretty slick, eh?
I’d like to talk a lot more about The Stendhal Syndrome another day, so stay tuned … eventually.
Fret not because Anna has her day — until …. ?? You don’t know giallo if you think when the killer dies the movie is over.
And it wouldn’t be an Asia post without boobies. Duh.
Asia in Boarding Gate.
The Thought Experiment 