Dedication

Dedication 

Dearest-And-Most-Noble Reader,

Make yourself comfortable.  Relax.  Clear your thoughts.

Outside of my rearing -- entrenched in Catholicism --  I've never believed in the existence of ghosts beyond the Holy Trinity.  Nor have I ever subscribed to the notions of the existence of aliens, zombies, Sasquatch, Extra-Biblical demonic possession or any other supernatural fables.  Yet, on a few occasions, I have experienced events that readily defied all rational explanation, accounts which only shall be conveyed to friends around a somber campfire with a flasks containing very strong liquors.   I have heard many tales of events around such campfires which were as hard for me to swallow as the "flask-at-hand." I've always said things like, "I believe that YOU believe it."

If you are old and wise and you love this read, please, by all means: Recommend It.  If you are young and hot-tempered and are offended by it, please, by all means: Ban It.  Either way, I'd be in great literary company and you will have done me a great honor. 

However, if you're young, and you like my book, please talk about it -- quote it frequently to sound strange to others outside of the know -- ya know?  And "evenmoreso," if I am surely long gone like bad grammar, please take heed: You're next, kid. If you think this book totally sucks, use it as an admission ticket to the next book-burning bonfire party -- or whatever you young folk are doing for fun nowadays...

Also, for the shorties trying to find a "theme" somewhere, this leviathan of words is about the death of printed books -- written during the time when paper was replaced with silicon chips.

If you're stuck writing a book report on this beast, try: "It mocks contemporary literature to convey a wholesome ethic, and sparingly offers constructive criticism of the art of filmmaking, while imploring future readers to explore love."

No one has ever become less of a human being because of reading.  Life is way too short to be ignorant about anything.  If you don't know the meaning of a word -- By The Stars!  Look it up!  Using the internet to learn something new is far, far easier than it was way back in those dusty, 20th-Century dictionary days when someone actually had to get dressed and venture to a downtown cursive-writing-building-place called a library in order to learn something new.

Relax.  Clear your thoughts.  Breathe.  I am going to start counting backward from one...

The Last American Midnite Movie is like a Hubert Robert painting -- ancient ruins, decay of a forgotten civilization and a subtle, stone-cracking mold; all beneath a lively, intrusive landscape of lush greenery and unspecific human endeavor.

It is a rambling yarn that's somehow familiar and comfortable, like an old pair of shoes, yet unsubstantial, like Y2K.  It is meant to be taken with antacids -- perhaps also with laxatives -- and should be flushed from your system as rapidly-and-thoroughly as a middle-of-the-night regurgitation of some previously-questionable leftovers.  It's a bag of chocolate-coated rabbit turds meant to be voraciously devoured, with absolutely no regard to its earthy aftertaste.

Simply, it is an unassuming, tepid, Gothic ghost-story for overly-romantic children. It’s a lukewarm tithe to an anonymous deity in a secular world of shameless commercialism, brutal violence and mindless exploitation of the masses.  It is brandy distilled from the forbidden fruit: Created to be soured, like cheese; staled, like unleavened bread; made-rotten, like aged beef.  Obsolete, archaic and antiquated in its creation, it is... truly "unique."

Who is never important, how is never relevant. When is always timeless, where is always ubiquitous.  Love the book as it is for what it is and for what it shall always be: My sardonic, yet honest, testimonial tribute to the majestic, written word.  Please understand why this work exists and for whom:

This book is dedicated to You, Endeared Reader.  Please enjoy.

Your Humble Author,

Nobody Famous

Introduction