One of my favorite bits that Margaret Cho does in a comedy routine is about laying in bed with someone well past the relationship's expiration date, and as she looks over at the man next to her, who is smiling sweetly at her, inside of her own head she is screaming violent obscenities back at him. I love that bit. We all love that bit because we've all lived that bit.
And this weekend I lived that bit again watching Gaspar Noé's new 3D porn-art film Love, which was like being trapped in an excruciating orgy with no way out. I don't know if I should go so far as to suggest he re-title this film Rape, but I'm tempted! Oh my lord did I hate every godforsaken minute of this thing. Yes folks, it's true, Gaspar Noé somehow managed to make me hate the sight of dicks. Dicks and cum and boobs and skin and teeth and hair and eyeballs -- Gaspar Noé has made me swear off all of it! Goodbye, flesh! Goodbye, fucking! We had a nice run but I never want to touch anyone or anything ever again, lest a shudder of memory from this experience run its damp hand down my spine once more.