Dear God of Post-Modern Moviemaking:
Too much? Have I put you off already? If so, I’m sorry. It’s just hard imagining what I have to say, and how I have to say it. You see, I’ve loved you for a very long time. No, not your subversive Midwestern mentality that sees beauty in the most grotesque of worm-infested rotting meat mannerisms. Nor am I particularly enamored of your current concentration on Transcendental Meditation, though I can completely see where you’re coming from with the whole “free your mind” ideal. You see, I’ve loved your MOVIES for a very long time - since I first saw your “straight” drama The Elephant Man way back in 1980, and I’m here to say that I miss you, and need you back in my life terribly.
Wow - how weak-willed and whiny. I was hoping to come off a little more forceful than this. You see, I am a real movie maniac, someone who linked up with your Wild at Heart so significantly that I remember watching it over and over when it was finally released on VHS (I know, you HATE that. Sorry again). Several dozen viewings later and I can argue with anyone over the merits of your bizarro-world Wizard of Oz riff. I’m as Powermad as Sailor and Lula, hotter than Georgia asphalt and convinced that peaches do indeed spread diseases. Crazy old cousin “Jingle” Dell’s got nothing on me, and I can easily…dammit. There I go, rambling again. You have that effect on me, don’t you know.