The film producer had been on a roll for quite a few years, and had climbed to the pinnacle of success, fame, and money. His peers in the industry regarded his "documentary films" as mordant and hard hitting, and doubly worthy of the highly prestigious "Golden Beer Can Award." Indeed, by the time the producer received this coveted award, his oeuvre ranged over a wide territory. But more than anything, what launched his career was his tendentious exposés about various dead personalities. And indeed, the dead are easy targets to exploit, because they are, well, dead. And being without breath, they are therefore not able to speak up and contradict anything said about themselves. Furthermore, this film producer had no problems about smearing the living, since he employed a gang of industrious lawyers to deal with any complaints coming from that direction. And having learnt early on that clever cutting room editing allows you to get away with nearly anything, his career branched out into highly applauded documentary films uncovering the putative evils of capitalism, health insurers, McDonald's Big Macs, Toyota automobiles, Disneyland, General Booth's Salvation Army, and nearly everything else under the sun. That night after the award ceremony, Death unfortunately showed up and was very insistent that he, the film producer, had to give up the Golden Beer Can and leave it behind. Death said that since the producer owed his career to films about dead people, it was only reasonable that he, Death, should get the Golden Beer Can, and the producer as well. Death can be very persuasive. By the way, Death's mordacious pet dog Cerberus is seen here exiting the picture.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Danse Macabre IV
The film producer had been on a roll for quite a few years, and had climbed to the pinnacle of success, fame, and money. His peers in the industry regarded his "documentary films" as mordant and hard hitting, and doubly worthy of the highly prestigious "Golden Beer Can Award." Indeed, by the time the producer received this coveted award, his oeuvre ranged over a wide territory. But more than anything, what launched his career was his tendentious exposés about various dead personalities. And indeed, the dead are easy targets to exploit, because they are, well, dead. And being without breath, they are therefore not able to speak up and contradict anything said about themselves. Furthermore, this film producer had no problems about smearing the living, since he employed a gang of industrious lawyers to deal with any complaints coming from that direction. And having learnt early on that clever cutting room editing allows you to get away with nearly anything, his career branched out into highly applauded documentary films uncovering the putative evils of capitalism, health insurers, McDonald's Big Macs, Toyota automobiles, Disneyland, General Booth's Salvation Army, and nearly everything else under the sun. That night after the award ceremony, Death unfortunately showed up and was very insistent that he, the film producer, had to give up the Golden Beer Can and leave it behind. Death said that since the producer owed his career to films about dead people, it was only reasonable that he, Death, should get the Golden Beer Can, and the producer as well. Death can be very persuasive. By the way, Death's mordacious pet dog Cerberus is seen here exiting the picture.