Dreamland Destinations #5

Everytown - 1940, 1966 and 2036, (Things to Come, d. William Cameron Menzies, 1936)

They Were Collaborators #700

Vivien Leigh and Simone Signoret.

Pop Visions of the New Empire #1

General Mark Clark's Manhunt for Europe's G.I. Vice Lord
(Mort Künstler; 1962)

Aftermath: U.S.A. #16

Original Caption:

New York -- Mary Joe Connolly, King Features Syndicate photographer, smiles a million-dollar smile to match the half-million dollar pearl gown she modelled in an interview on the Frances Langford-Don Ameche television show. The dress, made of 100,000 cultured pearls, is to be donated, after a tour of the country, to the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund by the Imperial Cultured Pearl Syndicate. In addition to the pearl dress, Miss Connolly wears four strands of pearls valued at $250,000, a purse valued at $40,000, bracelet at $40,000, earrings at $15,000, pin at $10,000, ring at $10,000, and a single solitaire pearl valued at $35,000. Those two pistols say she isn't going anywhere with all that stuff. (1952)

They Were Collaborators #699

Jean Renoir and Charles Laughton

Annals of Crime #107

Original Caption:

Washington -- A police ambulance leaves a house in Northwest Washington, DC, where seven persons were found murdered. According to initial reports, four men on foot were observed running from the house and two .38 caliber pistols were found along their path. It was later discovered that the crimes had been committed by seven members of the organized crime syndicate and rival Muslim group the Black Mafia as part of an ideological attack again the Hanafi (Orthodox) Muslims based in the house. The intended target, Hamaas Abdul Khaalis, the leader of the Hanafi Muslims, was not at home. Two adults and a child were shot to death, while four other children were drowned. (1973)

The Gunslinger Guide to Elizabeth Taylor #2

Similar Images #15

Ace in the Hole
(Billy Wilder; 1951)

Jordan's Dance
(Derek Jarman; 1977)

Seven Years, Folks. Seven Years

As Joan Crawford cuts the cake with perhaps more zeal than the task requires, If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger . . . marks its seventh anniversary in existence.

Now, in the words of Lyndon Johnson: Let us continue . . .

A Dialogue (I hope) About the Future

The following is not . . . I repeat, not . . . a Farewell Address; rather a disclosure of what one might call internal malaise here at Gunslinger.

Let's not resort to euphemisms at the outset. This blog is in trouble; it's on the ropes.

I don't know why it's on the ropes . . . I have a few, highly speculative theories. I just know that it is, and that for months now I've been trying to locate some lone spark of inspiration that might possibly revive it in its present form. I've come up empty. I've also given serious thought to moving it in a new direction, whatever that might be. This too has yielded nothing. In short, I've run out of ideas (workable ideas, anyway); what's more our visitor stats have fallen to pre-2006 levels.

I can give you a bit of the history of how this came to pass: Over the last 9-10 months, certain events have occurred in my life, both (very) good and bad. I expected they would all distract me from what I do here, if only for a time, but for whatever reason their impact has been far greater on this blog than I would have imagined, for whatever mechanisms existed within me to keep this thing going were, I found, depleted. At best I could find the time, the energy, the inclination to update this thing only rarely . . . and that is directly contrary to what I'd resolved to do once the format had more or less manifested itself in mid-2005, which was to provide a consistent, steady, hopefully even unceasing stream of such content as I and my co-conspirators might generate. There was also the departure some weeks ago . . . never announced here, for I would not be party to my own public humiliation . . . of a (nameless) member of Team Gunslinger; someone better affiliated among the brethren who could not help but rub it in that they had moved on to bigger and better things, thus making any continued residence in our blogospheric leper colony not only untenable, but more of an embarrassment before the Film blog community (a term I use advisedly) than it had been . . . if such a thing were possible, of course.

As a side note, let me point out that this did not come as a complete shock, however demoralizing it had been. In fact, there are a great many . . . some of whom will no doubt, and with characteristic pettiness and sub-collegiate glee, be passing along the link to this post, prefaced by something along the lines of 'Hey! He's having another meltdown. Get the popcorn!' . . . who would find risible the notion that it takes any effort whatsoever to put this blog together, or that you could call anything that fills its pages content. I won't even bother defending myself against this low-rent elite consensus. I will only say that these people (and you know who you are, you soulless creeps) would hold this view regardless of anything that appeared on this blog . . . the nature of their disdain being, from first to last, entirely personal.

But I do know that there are a few of you who do appreciate this blog for what it is, and it is to you that I'm addressing the following question: What should be done here: Should the plug be pulled entirely? Should I move it in another direction; and, if so, what might that be? Should I take on more Team Gunslinger members? Should I just get out of the blogosphere . . . where, in the opinion of many, I am most decidedly unwelcome . . . for good? Should I just leave the blog here to rot, as a symbol of its ultimate failure to realize whatever potential it might have had. In other words, I'm hoping to start a dialogue with those who actually get what we've been doing here for the last seven years.

I invite your input . . . starting . . . now!