lord, i was born a nambla man.

anyway, speaking of knowledge and love and, you know, freaky shit …

check this out!

this is what happens when you stay up later than everyone else with this one …

and, god help you, this one …

(notice the shameful state of that tiara …)

mel, meg, and myself … and our phones.

[Show as slideshow]

i’d love to relate that this photo shoot was a dress rehearsal – a preamble – for some sort of fiery menage a three (much like that time i posted the video of an elaborate eritrean mating ritual prior to doing it with the entire village), but that would be improper, imprudent, and factually incorrect.

i will go on record, however, as saying those clam shell samsungs can’t hold a charge for shit …

and because chicago mel thinks she looks like something that crawled out of gummo in the above shot (she’s missing the fallen prom queen commentary the image conjures up, i think), here she is looking more composed and sophisticated …

and you know those families who all dress exactly alike when they go on vacation?

and what about those people who do really weird, kinky shit with small animals because they ‘love’ them so much? don’t cry, bridgette …

headphones, laptop, christmas on mars.

review.

review before your review. i’ll watch it every christmas time till i die. and sometime (somehow) in that one last year, i’ll write my proper.

review.

until then:

steven is just compelling to his core. i’d watch him wait in line and be entertained. great casting.

did steven have some martian in him? or something … other? it seemed like he was the only one outside who didn’t wear a space suit (excepting wayne, the martian, and wayne’s suicidal brother in the santa clause suit). but was that outside? and why did his character’s name not have a number after it?

an homage to the drill sergeant in full metal jacket vis-a-vis the captain brings lovely lightness to psychedelic existentialism. hilarious, too.

check this out! marching bands with vaginas for heads! pussies and pussy symbolism throughout! a material, feminine, colorful, bloody, real, human emphasis. hope against hope for the believers and the skeptics both. thanks wayne! you have a gift for the universal in the universe. and duct tape will hold it all together for eternity.

michelle makes a lovely mary. smokin’ hot, too.

at times, the score melts with the visuals and belief is suspended and you’re on the ship (not in wayne’s backyward in okc) and it’s just fucking lovely. makes you proud to be in the same corner of earth in the same historical moment as the flaming lips.

what the hell was michael doing in the end? i thought he was somehow symbolic of a negative force on the settlement at first, but he might have been behind the curtain all along pulling the levers for good. and what was his one line close to the beginning? was it significant? fuck. gotta wait a whole nother year to find out.

vacuums being pushed by workers down a narrow suspended walkway. that’s an air filter from a 1978 chevy caprice classic around that guy’s head. is that the lining of a hot tub mounted to the wall? now i wanna assemble mars in my backyard and make a movie.

why didn’t i think of that?

the headshrinker was brilliant. truly a great scene.

(they pulled this thing off.)

the last words of the credits were:

to all flaming lips fans
thank you for believing in us and for giving us such a wonderful life.
we will always love you.

we love you, too.