"IF NOTHING ELSE, THERE'S APPLAUSE . . . LIKE WAVES OF LOVE POURING OVER THE FOOTLIGHTS!" Oh dear, I'm so unworthy but it seems I've won an award! The Premio Dardo Award! Given to me by my surrogate Daddy Pax over at horror blog "BILLY LOVES STU", the award is, well, in his own words: " The Premio Dardo Award is a nifty sort of meme thingy, in that the recipient of the award must then bestow the same upon five other bloggers". Ah, my readers! The great unblushed! You all make it worthwhile! After all, I hate this house! I hate these walls! I hate that sofa! The only part of this dump that doesn't make me puke is my loyal readers! And I promise you I'll never desert you again because after 'THE LAND OF CERPTS AND HONEY' we'll make another blog and another blog. You see, this is my life! It always will be! Nothing else! Just us, the blogosphere, and those wonderful people out there in the dark! All right, Mr. DeMille . . . I'm ready for my required 5 blog awards (and to be fair, I won't award Daddy Pax's blogs since he's already won and this could go around and around):

• CHEEKS' THE DHARMA (AND GREG) PROJECT -- for copiously analyzing, explaining, extemporizing and theorizing each and every episode of LOST for us. There is always something you didn't know or something you didn't notice to be found here.
• FLEAPIT OF THE MIND -- You can't beat the extensive knowledge and exquisite taste in all things cinema on Weaverman's phenomenol blog! Whether it's a Bergman classic or a trashy crime movie, the Fleapit is the place to be! We can only wish that, some fine day, his late lamented other blogs The Fleapit Annex and Ghosts in the Library will be resurrected.
• PALEO-CINEMA -- Terry Frost spends his time, between herding his capuchin monkeys out of his estate's fountains, creating the greatest movie blog out there. Combining encyclopedic knowledge with personal reminiscences, Terry Frost's Paleo-Cinema debuts about every three weeks with another audio excursion into the world of film pre-1980.
• SCRAPS -- My dear Star has been keeping journals of odd everyday events, quotable quotes and cosmic coincidences even BEFORE we got married! She has finally put it all into a blog which entertainingly shines the spotlight on us everyday humans and shows we are nothing as dull as mere "everyday"!
• WE ARE THE MOVIES -- Aaron White provides a movie blog which displays all the love and energy of a true cinephile focusing on the movies and directors who make the most of their art!

THE FIVE SONGS: ELEVENTH INSTANCE. On this Independence Day, I'm not gonna drag in Bill Pullman. Instead I've been reflecting on independence and the fact that we're never truly independent. We rely on the support and company of friendship. I've been lucky to have more friends than I deserve who put up with my wacky ways. Far from being a little ray of sunshine, I have described myself more as "a squirt of lemon to the eye". I'm acidic and I like it that way. Hell, at least I'm entertaining in my malfunctions. But since I have only five songs here to work with, I have chosen to list five songs which I strongly associate with certain people in my life who I'm grateful to call friends. There are many more, of course, but if you're not here it's no slight; it's just that as yet there is no one song I associate ironclad with you. So get to work on that. And meanwhile, with little comment, here they are -- the songs I cannot escape instantly recalling one person every time I hear it.

1. QUESTION by THE MOODY BLUES -- Person associated with: Cheeks. "Why do we never get an answer when we're knocking at the door?" Good question. Good song. It also has special meaning for Cheeks.

2. 4TH OF JULY by X -- Person associated with: Daddy Pax. How appropriate for today! This just happens to be my favourite X song. And I'm pretty sure it's his too. "On the stairs I smoke a cigarette alone. / Mexican kids are shootin' fireworks below. / Hey baby! / It's the 4th of July!" This song has a lot of energy, it really rocks and it's really punk in the best, most admirable sense. And so is he.

3. WISH I MAY by ANI DIFRANCO -- Person associated with: Ilsa*. "I wonder what happens if i get to the end of this tunnel and there isn't a light / I've worn down the treads on all of my tires." I can relate with the world beating you down. We've both had that. "Don't tell me it's gonna be alright / you can't sell me on your optimism tonight / it's a stiff competition to see who can stay up later / the stars or the street lights / and all they really want is to be alone with the darkness." But the fact remains that through it all she remains fucking strong! How's that for something to aspire to?

4. THIS BITTER EARTH by DINAH WASHINGTON -- Person associated with: Rob. This is also my favourite Dinah song and I first heard it because of this guy. "And if my life is like the dust That hides the glow of a rose / What good am I Heaven only knows / This bitter Earth Can it be so cold." Life is a series of hard knocks and it's realistic to see it that way. However, the song ends on an up note. "And this bitter earth may not be so bitter after all." And still always remains an optimist.

5. GRAVEDIGGER by DAVE MATTHEWS -- Person associated with: Fink. I thought it would be appropriate to end the list in the grave. It would certainly take friendship for me to include a song by Dave Matthews on my list because I am definitely not a fan (Oh, it's SUCH a dark day here in the ole blog). "Gravedigger / when you dig my grave / will you make it shallow / so that I can feel the rain?"

"POWERFUL DRUGS COULD BE INSINUATED INTO MY SOUP!" THE NINTH CONFIGURATION is not the film I expected. Written and directed by William Peter Blatty, the first 2/3rds of the film is a very sharp satirical comedy. However, underneath the asylum hijinx there is a very serious theme which doesn't become apparent until the completely serious final third of the movie. As in Blatty's novel "The Exorcist", "The Ninth Configuration" deals with religious faith. And in this film the question is none other than whether or not God exists. The feel of the first two-thirds is much like Catch-22 crossed with One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. However, that's only the feel. The script is amazing with more quotable lines per square foot of celluloid than most any other movie. There is also a very real mystery at the heart of the film; a mystery which you're really not aware of until the final act.

The film takes place in a castle transported to the Pacific Northwest and used as a military insane asylum. Stacy Keach plays a psychiatrist colonel who is assigned to take over the asylum. He arrives to find an unforgettable cast of mentally ill played by a magnificent cast of actors. First among them is a former astronaut who aborted his moon mission and lost his mind. The report of his meltdown is priceless: "Two days prior to his scheduled space shot, subject officer, while dining on the base, was observed to pick up a plastic ketchup bottle, squeeze a thin red line across his throat and then to stagger and to fall very heavily across a table (then being occupied by the director of the National Space Administration) gurgling 'Don't order the swordfish!'" Said nutty astronaut Cutshaw is magnificently played by Scott Wilson (from "In Cold Blood") who invests his performance with amazing depth. The quality of Wilson's performance is very important because the role (and the entire film) would have fallen apart without it. Keach's performance in "The Ninth Configuration" is also the best I've ever seen him give.

The rest of the cast is also pretty much perfect. Superb yet tragic actor Ed Flanders (best known for "St. Elsewhere") is alternately hilarious and touching as the asylum's medical doctor who spends the entire first act without his pants (they were stolen from him and all his other pants are at the cleaners). Jason Miller (Father Karras from "The Exorcist") plays a mentally ill inmate whose mission in life is to translate Shakespeare for dogs. Miller is hysterically funny as well -- mainly because he plays it perfectly straight without even a hint of a tongue in cheek. In fact, everybody plays it completely straight -- which makes it even funnier. Real life World War II highly decorated war hero Neville Brand plays the humourless, put upon guard Major Groper. The rest of the cast is rounded out with a plethora of terrific character actors. George DiCenzo (who played Captain Lou Albano) is Captain Fairbanks. Moses Gunn (memorably threatening in "Shaft") as Major Nammack thinks he's Superman. Robert Loggia plays the insane Lt. Bennish who thinks he's actually on the planet Venus and sings Al Jolson tunes in blackface. Alejandro Rey (from the episode "La Strega" in Boris Karloff's Thriller TV series) as an insane painter. Tom Atkins (Nick Castle from John Carpenter's "The Fog") as guard Sgt. Krebs. The movie features an embarrassment of riches as far as casting is concerned.

Once Stacey Keach's colonel takes over the asylum, he institutes some novel techniques of running the place; this is in order to indulge the inmates so they will hopefully get better. Throughout the film, Scott Wilson engages Stacey Keach in multiple discussions which seem merely comical and insane but later turn out to be extremely relevant religious debates. Wilson's character eventually takes off in a car to a local dive bar and gets into a scuffle with a biker gang. This scene has been rightly noted for the incredible buildup of suspense and threat. Keach arrives to find Wilson being humiliated by the bikers and soon finds himself in the same position. It's after this point that the real meat of the film is made clear and, in fact, the movie is even BETTER when watched a second time. And then, of course, there's that amazing scene featuring the crucifixion on the moon. . .

THE NINTH CONFIGURATION defies all efforts of categorization; which is precisely why it didn't make much of a splash in the theatre but only found it's extremely loyal cult following on video afterwards. However, the film did win a Golden Globe award for script and was nominated for best picture. Sadly, it was totally snubbed at the Oscars owing to a little petty Hollywood press hijinx. That's a real shame because, besides the script, there are masterful performances from Scott Wilson, Stacy Keach and Ed Flanders which should have been nominated at the very least. This is a film which some viewers (with the attention span of a gnat) may find perplexing. However, if you actually watch it instead of giving it side glances while playing a video game, the film is extremely watchable, often hilarious, sometimes touching, occasionally frightening and thought-provoking to the Nth degree. The film also rewards repeated viewings and becomes even better. And on one final note: No, Ilsa*, you don't have to buy the DVD from me.

DEAR MS. HENRI, I thin you got some splainin' to do!!! Click on the picture (so you can see it what it's called) and tell me what Bruce Lee's got against you.

ILSA* THANKS AGAIN FOR THE LICORICE SCOTTIE DOGGIES! Proving once again that you indeed are the happenin'est, most spectaculific person on the face of the planet!!! Hugs, hugs and MORE hugs!!!

DYNAMIC DUOS PART 7: WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE PARIS.

It's the most beloved movie of all time. Hands down. It's also the place where two star-crossed lovers meet once again after one of those messy breakups.

The wild finish. A guy standing on the station platform in the rain, with a comical look on his face because his insides had been kicked out. No matter. That would not be the end of the story.

Even if they don't end up together. Even if they never see each other again after the final reel ends. It's OK.

RICK: If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.

ILSA: But what about us?

RICK: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.

ILSA: When I said I would never leave you...

Rick: And you never will.

HERE'S SOME EYE CANDY FOR ALL THE LADIES!!!!

Control yourself, Ms. Henri!!!

THE SUNDAY EVENING ANTI-STUFFED SHIRT & FLYING TRAPEZE CLUB. On Sunday nights, a group of friends gather to plot the overthrow of the known universe (also to watch movies and have snacks). I am proud and frankly thankful to find myself included in this illustrious group. They include among them 3 Oscar winners, 2 Pulitzer Prizes for literature, a Nobel Peace Prize, 5 Tony Awards, 12 Purple Hearts and 6 Hasty Puddings. Only those members who secretly meet every Sunday night at their secret mountain headquarters can call themselves "The Sunday Evening Anti-Stuffed Shirt & Flying Trapeze Club (a reference stolen from the 1938 Katharine Hepburn/Cary Grant film "Holiday"). I would like to take this opportunity to introduce them and let them know that I think they're really keen. First we have my OLDER brother Ern -- good lookin' cuss, ain't he? He's always been there for me and offered me much-needed support when a woman done me wrong (I feel the start of a country/western song coming on). Next we have Pax -- what a distinguished-lookin' gent! This is one guy who will NEVER lose his horizons! And then, there's the shining light of our little group -- Ms. Henrietta Hudson (of the Coney Island Hudsons) -- we will ALWAYS have Paris!!! Hugs to you, my dear! Next we come to the group's action hero -- Miss Jenny Penny (here pictured at her wedding reception). I'll bet you THAT waiter will never serve red wine with fish again! Last but not least is our very own Troll Joey -- seen here at yet ANOTHER magazine shoot! He'll grind your bones to make his bread and STILL you'll love him!!! Last (and certainly least) is yours truly (seen below) -- who treasures the friendship of all these great people and just wanted to take a moment to let them know. Thanks for putting up with me all these years. It might also be appropriate at this point to mention one member of the club who has gone AWOL for much too long -- the well-known (and fantasized about) Finkmaster Flash (seen below at left). We miss you, you stupid hippy freak! You don't even phone, you don't even write. . . . . . . . . . .