Hello. Will Knowledge for Thirst, or at least the reviews within, ever go online again, or at least be available in a way, or format, in wich a person (such as me), could get a hold of them. And read. Them. Thank you and good bye.
All my sites got moved to a new server last year and that bungled things up real nice — K4T in particular since it was on Wordpress, a thing I should not be allowed to use. I have a backup of the database but my attempts to get it up and running again have so far ended in hot hissy tears.
But anyway the reviews weren’t lost forever, which is what I was afraid of (some of my all-time fave kfan writing is there), so yes it’ll be available again at some undefined point in the future.
Sometime in the 90s my Hollywood friend (I think he writes for Burn Notice now?) went to Sundance and brought back a VHS tape of a movie called Tomorrow Night that he said nobody liked but I probably would.
I went to UCLA to be a filmmaker (but didn’t get into the film program hence the English degree that ruined my life) so I saw a lot of student-y, Sundance-y films back then and they were all horrific so I was pleasantly surprised to actually find this VHS tape super funny. I watched it once and then my friend took it back, saying he wasn’t even allowed to have it.
Anyway I decided to pay attention to this guy Louis CK who made it. And today he finally made the movie available on his site for five bucks. I just downloaded it and am scared to watch it because what if it stinks? We’ve all changed a lot since then. All I remember is someone sitting on a bowl of ice cream and someone adopting a black kid named “Clean” and I might even be wrong about that.
Josh, are you just trying to tell us you were in on the ground floor of this whole Louis CK thing? yes goddammit gimme some candy
Hulk saw a phrase pop up again and again in the national dialogue calling Fast Six ‘not a good movie, but an enjoyable one.’ And Hulk couldn’t disagree more.
We have somehow become a culture that only equates good with overt seriousness. Which is a shame because Hulk would argue the last two Fast movies, while incredibly dumb on so many levels, are still two of the most functional summer popcorn movies that Hulk has seen in, like, years.
You may laugh at that word ‘functional,’ but to Hulk it’s one of the best words in all of moviedom. It means the film works, dammit. It means it is engineered properly and does exactly what it sets out to do.
They dramatize all the stakes and spell out exactly what’s happening without a hint of obfuscation. They make overtly sexual movies that at least have the dignity to give their female characters agency and independence outside of scotch-taping them to the men’s stories. They are movies that know how to execute all the basics flawlessly and Hulk would argue that’s the reason they’ve become ridiculously popular and beloved. It’s because they are coherent, clear, classically told stories.
It’s because they actually are good movies.
”—Film Crit Hulk takes a break from dismantling Man of Steel to put my feels into words
My pal Ken Flagg is writing a new song every week for 52 weeks. Desperate, he asked if I’d write something and record myself reading it so he could skip coming up with lyrics for a week. Some of the stories I posted here recently were aborted attempts at that, but we decided the one about Henry, Texas could work.
Give it a listen and check out his other tunes while you’re there. They’re not all super creepy!
My friend Dennis is kind of infuriating. He’s smart and funny. He’s a good husband and father. He gets up early to work out. He’s really into boxing and Baroque music. He makes furniture. He grows giant pumpkins in his yard at a competitive level. He’s basically a man, which is gross.
Worst of all, he’s a good writer. And his novel Fellow Mortals is being published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. I’m super proud.
But I’m even MORE proud of this Q&A he did with ME. Because it is about ME, who is a DELIGHT. I talk about regular centaurs and and normal cocaine and not being a man.
The song “Iron Man” was originally entitled “Iron Bloke.” Upon hearing the main guitar riff for the first time, Osbourne remarked that it sounded “like a big iron bloke walking about.” The title was later changed to “Iron Man.”
The folks taught her to erect a second roof when building a desert shelter. Balsam fir resin makes an excellent antiseptic for treating cuts and abrasions. Douse bait with cod liver oil. Disguise your scent with the smoke from green pine needles on a campfire. Cattails are one of the most abundant and best-tasting plants out there. The Pileated Woodpecker digs his home facing east.
Also: artificial accents and gaits. Breaking your fall from a significant height. Following someone who is behind you. Ventriloquism. Echolocation. Non-sleeping. Temporary heart-stopping. Basic grip-loosening maneuvers.
All learned between the ages of 0 and 13 when the family was on the run, never staying in the same town for more than a couple weeks, a series of B.O.-scented motel rooms, humidity and sore throats and ticket-takers speaking Farsi and Swedish and Maasai. In the evenings Mom would quiz her on exchange rates while Pop made phone calls in the bathroom with the faucet running.
It is mid-afternoon, mid-September. He drifts through the mining district where rickety scaffolds burrow down into the undercity. The southern stretch of bungalows where latchkey kids skin knees against sprinkler heads. The ports where tuna purseiners are just now returning home with sad exhausted diesel drones. The salt refineries along the estuary, flanked by stinking brine sluiceways and evaporating ponds. The manufactured neighborhood (“Trigger Corner”) built for a movie that ended up getting made in Vancouver. The pupusas and ceviches of Little San Salvador. Young men running their hands over the bra straps of young women in Arboreta Alley. The animal squawks and roulette clicks of The Hole. The city winding things down.