Does He look like a Bitch?
i just handed in a paper on Pulp Fiction (1994) earlier this evening. for a lack of imagination, my paper’s entitled “Frankfurt School goes to the Movies: Reading Pulp Fiction with Adorno and Horkheimer.” (yes i know, not the most original)
with the dominant literatures on Pulp Fiction all focused on the postmodern themes and the figure of the postmodern gangster, i thought i’d give Adorno and Horkheimer a run for their money with a reading of Pulp Fiction against their influential polemic - “The Culture Industry.” hah! was great fun going into my reading of ‘fast-food discourse’.
on a separate issue, i’m finding it harder and harder to put words onto paper. my head’s distracted. i’m jaded, still feeling that overseas-hangover. and following the advice of a prof., i need to escape the ‘empire’ of theory: theories are theories, they are only useful when they are. huh time to get a move on. i’m finding out (dangerously so) that i am losing interest in my discipline. or is it merely that my thoughts are twisted and bound up - unnecessarily convoluted.
“what ain’t no country. they speak english in what? say what again, say what again motherfucker. i dare ya, i double-dare ya. say what again. describe what marsellus wallace look like!” (Jules)
