At around two this morning I read a most entertaining and interesting email. Detesting my lack of understanding, as shown in my review for The Sick House, the writer went on to identify me as an expletive, expletive, expletive fag.
First, I am actually quite happy that someone was so emotionally involved with one of my reviews that he took the time to convey his feelings to me, graphic though they may be. Second, I admit I’m a bit confused by the use of the word fag. Did the writer mean I’m an expletive, expletive, expletive bundle of wood or cigarette (I’m British in spirit, but don’t smoke), or small breaded piece of fish or meat (doesn’t describe me at all)? Or perhaps he meant it as a disparaging term for supposed homosexual tendencies (I’m heterosexual in practice, although I’ve suspected I’m bisexual in spirit–at least in my fantasies).
So, while I’m ecstatic to have fan email, this one has left me elated but disappointed that I don’t quite get the writer’s intended message.
As for my review of The Sick House, to paraphrase the words of Roger Ebert–when he summed up his expert opinion on Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo–the movie sucks.
At least that I’m certain of.
