So the other day, I stuffed myself into a van with some other people and went to see The Dark Knight at the drive-in. One friend noted that you miss the sound of the Joker’s lips when it’s coming out of a car stereo.
I thought it was totally awesome, although in a bizarre way, and it felt like it was 3 movies in 1. , a brilliant blog that does what I wish I could do if I could only take myself half-seriously for five seconds, on the film.
One thing she didn’t cover however, and I’m not so sure how much coverage this will ever get, is how much I want to fuck the Joker.
I’m not talking about Heath Ledger, I don’t care about movie stars unless they were starring in Butch Cassidy & the Sundance kid on the cusp of 1970. I’m talking about straight up JOKERTIME. My womb was all yelling at me, “I am the soil from which to grow babies of chaos” throughout the whole fucking movie. It was actually really distracting. I was horrified/titillated by how much of my own life philosophy I heard in his. Is the only break between him and I empathy? I’m not even that empathic! Guys, if I legit start talking like I’ve been reading too much Baudrillard or Nietzsche or whatever, PLEASE EUTHANIZE ME. That could be my future. This is my living will.
| AGENTS OF MAYHEM |
