Scene 7.01 - Author's Narrative/Opening Credits
Ya know, Endeared Reader, I think most movies totally suck, and all movie sequels suck totally. Hopefully, I can relate why I wrote these awful stories -- and why "Millennial Juveniles" are my intended target audience.
I took a perfectly good fairy tale where no one dies or really gets hurt and filled it with phantasms, ghosts, demons and spectres parading filth, gratuitous violence, drug use and sexual innuendo. I also made the good ship Roanoke plunge into the heart of a singularity without any apology or personal commentary whatsoever.
Why? Understand that deep down -- and even in the shallows -- I'm a prude, and more of a prude than most people like me ever like to admit being, but I feel liberated at this part of the epic, because even though I have illustrated how someone doesn't have to die to be a ghost, nor does killing yourself always end it for you, I've also seen the opportunity to make dim light of the U.S.S.S. Roanoke's certain demise.
Sure, I could have saved them all with a parallel dimension or a passage to Zeta or Sicko's cure being utilized before the mass-insanity, but I did not. Nope!
Why, you ask?
Grendel gets to sack the Mead Hall without hesitation or rational pause because a mead hall can be rather boring without dragons and trolls to haunt them -- even after consuming a yard of mead or two. Or three. This is why there are monsters like D-S 99-66-99.
It's acknowledgement of an unpleasant fact; like the unfortunate truth about life. (That we will someday die.)
This chapter is written in because I can't abide Romantics who throw out all reality or change historical facts to just to contrive some lame, sequel-bearing ending to some crappy montage of gore and sex with a literary title attached to it. No such flavor for my palate, no such color for my pallette, no such load for my pallet. No secret passages out of Troy, no happy ending for Ulysses -- Truly: What good is Hamlet if no one bites it? The monkey that types-out a version of Hamlet with a happy ending is lost to anonymity and doesn't get a banana.
What would we have learned had Creon heeded Teresius' advice and let Antigone get off with a simple slap on the wrist, like a fix-it ticket or something? Would we ever remember her going into the cave to get it on with her lover more than we all remember her going in there alone, to die for sticking to her principles of honor?
Of course not!
That said, I assure you, Beloved Reader, goodness toward the peruser of this weighty, digital tome is my intention, but please be forewarned, nothing good happens in this chapter. I decided to keep it relatively short to avoid making you, the reader of this colossus, exclaim the usual caustic and sarcastic reply that I exclaim after watching a flick on a "movie night out" -- when NOT walking hand-in-hand with my cross, surly and perhaps traumatized escort; all-the-while I talk to a bestest friend on my cell whilst walking-out of a ritzy "theatre" in disgust; thirty bucks poorer, bitter popcorn-and-watered-down-cola taste in my unkissed mouth:
(Truly, ALL other film critiques aside -- the point of this book: Just count how many times that you, Gentle Reader, can find an example or two of your own...)
Butterface Blues, Freddie Meets Alien, Rape Of The Dead, Suicidal Eulogy, My Favorite Abortion, All Must Pay Part 2, Juice In Cracktown, Premonition Of Apocalypto, The Boy-Toys Of Abu Graib, Spermy The Whale, The Last Parody Of Christ, The Stigmata Code, French-Kissing Cousins, Avatar 2: Beauty and The Beastiality
Feel free to fill in the blank with your own choice favorite:
"_____________________________: Yeah, a real DATE movie!"
The point of this book? To incarnate The Last American Midnite Movie into something that is not like any work before it. Make what it is -- a meandering, digital critique of American film and television -- into something good, if not great, if not exceptional, if not wondrous, if not prophetic, if not saintly, if not godly. Something that, once read, wouldn't prevent a good guy from a little kissing action by a good girl who kinda likes him already. THAT'S my point. It's why I say most movies suck and why I've never seen a quality sequel in my lifetime. -NF
(From studio black to video black)
ANIMATION STYLE 1
FADE IN
SLOW, SUSPENSE MUSIC UP
(Monochromatic things are littered about -- eggs, blueberries, lemons, cherries, grapes, oranges, limes, dark chocolate, etc.)
CG1: Part Seven - Man vs. Masterpiece.
PAUSE: Three seconds.
CG2: 3.141592653589753238462643383279502884197169...
PAUSE: 120 Frames.
FX: The text goes on and on, slowly fading away...
FULL ORCHESTRATION, GRANDIOSE THEME MUSIC UP
Waving in the breeze is a POLYCHROMATIC DRAPE.
CG: Directed By [Director’s Name]
CG: Screenplay By Jynx
LOSE CG
(Dissolve in: The Universe, clocks, horizons, rocketships, waving U.S. Flag, Americana, etc. -- all projected-on the rolling drape. Music is at three-quarters, softer and lighter. Super-impose hot pics of the cast, circa 9969.)
CG: Starring: [Run additional credits.]
BLACKOUT
CG: This story is true. Names have been changed so the author doesn't have to be buried in secrecy.
LOSE CG
SILENCE
FTB