what luxury nothing is. i’ve been listening to the new beth orton cd, which is more enjoyable even than expected. i’ve watched orson welles’ the lady from shanghai. impossible to take seriously (surely that’s not what he intended anyway,) it’s sumptuously photographed and as stuffed with melodramatic quotes as close-ups: “say hello to the sunrise for me” “of course killing you is killing myself. but i’m getting pretty tired of both of us” and a top-notch walking into the sunset line: “maybe i’ll live long enough that i forget her. maybe i’ll die trying.”
maybe i’ll live enough that i’ll stop wishing i were rita hayworth, or having an affair with orson welles, or vice versa. maybe i’ll die trying.