Curiosity killed the cat, not me

(My fucking network-connection's been out of business for the past fucking week, meaning I haven't been fucking online in a fucking weeeeek, and it fucking scares me to observe my own fucking obsession with this internet-thing AND, indeed, that fucking word "fuck". Interesting. Anywhooo, I miss blogger. I miss blogging. Miss it like I miss Chris E. and his "Hello, alien-Piggy!"-smile and those cute ears. Gosh. But, and thus, here we go again!)

I watched the beautiful, but slightly crazy-psychedelic "Easy Rider" today...and I loved it, of course, it's just completely surreal and brilliant. One of those movies that will, hopefully, last forever. Along with other Fonda-family classics (hihi!) and my personal, fucking favourite (pun intended) Tarantino and his Hopper-collaborations and other strokes of genius. (Trivia Puzzle: Tarantino + Hopper + Walken + Scott = ?) I think there's something about their hunt for freedom and all the hippie-music and that "We failed"-line which just hits you, right there, cuts its way into your soul and stomach, even spearing straight through the core of your heart. Boooom; off you go, fallin' in love again. Well, at least I did. Reckon, if I ever settle down it'll be with some motorcycle dude who calls himself Captain America and has a best buddy who smokes pot and dresses like The Eagles' vocalist and laughs at everything, although it might not be even remotely funny. And we could walk into the sunset, being hardly more than vague shadows in the dark; wearing these really retro, awesome sunglasses and on-and-off, pathetic helmets and talk about Venus, the planet that is, and take pleasure in not knowing what tomorrow would bring. Team up with Jack Nicholson and visit dodgy bars and sleep rough and hit the highway before breakfast...

Did I mention I love movies, cos they make me dream? Guess I did, yeah. And I love America and American road-movies and exploring all the mysteries of that amazing bowl of mingling cultures, through the eyes of people like Wyatt and Billy. Someday I'm gonna go there and I'm gonna travel out, without any specific destination; just live and breathe and chase freedom for a while. If that doesn't get you in touch with your inner self and senses, I don't know what possibly could.

But, children, smoking pot and drinking scotch and riding a bicycle without a helmet is very dangerous. So, leave it to the grown-ups. And Peter Fonda may not be the best role model ever, but most kids today don't even know who the man is, so what's the big deal. I mean, they SHOULD know him, but I suppose something's missing about their film historic education. Parents, get a a grip? Suggestion; why not make films like "Easy Rider" part of the school curriculum and have the youngsters understand the sixties through the geniune, contemporary view on the era? That'd be a great idea, if you ask me. But, unfortunately, too few do.