“Writing down your deepest emotions
With your pen in hand
Your piece of paper flew out the window
You watched it try and land
You felt bad as it flew out of sight
A part of your heart alone in the night
All of a sudden you didn’t mind it
When you pictured that lonely stranger that would find it”—Jonny Lang
Lester Bangs:Aw, man. You made friends with them. See, friendship is the booze they feed you. They want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong.
William Miller:Well, it was fun.
Lester Bangs:They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not cool.
William Miller:I know. Even when I thought I was, I knew I wasn't.
Lester Bangs:That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.
William Miller:I can really see that now.
Lester Bangs:Yeah, great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love... and let's face it, you got a big head start.
William Miller:I'm glad you were home.
Lester Bangs:I'm always home. I'm uncool.
William Miller:Me too!
Lester Bangs:The only true currency in this bankrupt world if what we share with someone else when we're uncool
“She walks out the door, & she’s drinking/kisses like rain
Well shes a backwoods girl/she don’t talk pretty
She makes it quite plain/she puts a dollar down on a heart
But she cannot pay/one dollar down & a dollar a day, etc”—The Triffids
“And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow –
My brothers they doubt me – but my dreams come true.”—excerpt from The Wander-Light by Henry Lawson, 1902
“All she’s ever felt is held back
She says, “It’s kinda nice to hear myself laugh”
She’s gonna do a lot more of that
She’s makin’ plans and makin’ tracks
She said, “Oh, oh I gotta go and find me”
Oh, oh she found the strength to break free”—Rascal Flatts (yes i like country music. i am severely uncool and i dont care one bit.)
When an American submarine arrives at Williamstown, the American commander is invited to stay with an Australian naval officer and his family. They take him to a beach in Port Phillip Bay where they spend their time swimming, sailing and sunbaking. The following day the Australians ask the American if he would like to go to the beach again. The American says that as it is a Sunday he would prefer to go to church.
It is a telling moment of cultural difference.
As the end approaches, the American turns to God, the Australians turn to the sea.
- Fiona Capp / The Age (in reference to On The Beach)
oh my god i LOVE THIS. its so true. and so so beautiful. we aussies have such a deeply spiritual connection to our land, and even more so…our sea.
“… the women were like, ‘No, we haven’t read your book, and we don’t need it.’ ” Somebody’s mothers, it seems, are doing something right. “I asked, ‘Where’d you get that confidence thing?’ They said, ‘We were taught from the beginning you have pride, you’re a French woman.’ And they really did have it.”