Archive for the ‘Witch Hunts and Other CFS Activities’ Category

So: Winter Break. It’s great that so many holidays take place around this time—it fills the atmosphere with such enthusiasm. If you weren’t recently eager for Eid, maybe you’re hyped for Hanukkah. Perhaps you anticipate Baphomet shimmying down your chimney. (I’m pretty sure that’s, like, a thing). Personally, I’m looking forward to Christmas. Ah. I can recall a Christmas where the snow started coming down in teeny feathers just after midnight … I plead and plead with my parents to put me in my eight layers and sooner or later I’m bound for the door, tongue wagging … doing somersaults across the lawn, sometimes fearing I won’t find my mittens at the end of their strings … later, warming up by the fire, Uncle Bill bouncing me on his knee as I tell him about these damn Film Miniscules they’ve got me writing… What great fun.

I could do without Christmas trees, however. Being made to erect a ten-foot safety threat in some spot you’re pretty cool with just inhabiting sounds like some backwards Soviet policy. Many of us will have to deal with this when we get home. It always happens on Christmas Eve when you’re bloated from the Advent calendar and not feeling particularly nimble. You want to get up to use the bathroom but neveryoumind that because here’s this skyscraping electric barbed cone which infinitely multiplies and extends itself by how much it blinds you while simultaneously eliminating the distance between you and it, and you unavoidably wrap your teeth around the middle part of its pole and many trinkets shatter, and the angel Gabriel swoons and hangs prostrate overhead, and you detach yourself and collapse and yet another Sims expansion pack has proven it can draw blood from your foot and if this keeps up your brother’s going to wonder if people have stopped loving him.

So this holiday season CFS encourages you to really get creative about your education in film, since the lectures won’t cover everything or everyone. Watch some Makavejevs or a Tarr—they’re highly accessible. Let’s remember, we study film art not because of its general tendency toward being entertaining and direct, or because its artists and architects so easily become our heroes, but because we struggle with basic arithmetic and the periodic table and so our guidance counsellors encouraged us to spend more time on our hobbies and personal appearances. (I found my calling in the arts after my Bristol board presentation, “Pluto is the Coldest Planet on Earth plus four proofs,” was not allowed to compete in the Grade 9 Science Fair.) A film degree looks nice, but if by the time you graduate the only Paul Thomas Anderson film you can name is Alien vs. Predator, then is your specific expertise really expertise, like c’mon now.

Happy holidays,


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If you suspect anyone in this Film Society of having admired– not “dumbly-enjoyed-in-that-ironic-way-like-Vin Diesel-and-Proust”, but truly strongly esteemed and valued– the movie Boondock Saints, please provide their full government name(s) and I will see that they are removed from the Film Society, disciplined and pilloried by the faculty and then recommended to Parks Canada for full-time permanent employment somewhere in the upper Yukon. Thank you and go vigilantly.

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