3QuarksDaily has made my day by publishing an essay on my favorite non-Star Trek film, Chris Marker's Sans Soleil. I've never quite succeeded in getting any of my friends to like it, and not for lack of trying. The author tries to defend the film from its critical bystanders, but I for one am wholly Calvinist about it: you either get it or you don't.
I'm just back from Hokkaido, the Northern Island. Rich and hurried Japanese take the plane, others take the ferry: waiting, immobility, snatches of sleep. Curiously all of that makes me think of a past or future war: night trains, air raids, fallout shelters, small fragments of war enshrined in everyday life. He liked the fragility of those moments suspended in time. Those memories whose only function had been to leave behind nothing but memories. I've been round the world several times and now only banality still interests me. On this trip I've tracked it with the relentlessness of a bounty hunter.