Different God

American hotels/motels known for ever present Holy Bible on night stand. I'm not sure what the reason to have Word of God in the rented room. May be to make drifters guilty for sins done at musty motels, o to help to have last dialog with the god before one writes last note. Bible in the motel room plain creepy and disturbing. It was pleasant surprise to find "Teaching of Buddha" instead in one of California's motels. I didn't spent night reading, but bright orange cover of the book cheers up the room.

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia

I was always telling that Golden Age of American film making was in 70s, and most likely never will be surpassed. I'm completely ignoring cinemas lately, just because I don't want to feel cheated by half cooked products of recent film industry.
As The Guardian blogger Jonathan Jones rightly points in his recent post: "What these films lack, in comparison to the golden age of American cinema, is ... well, pretty much everything that matters. Their morality is shop-bought: it doesn't feel like it was worked out on the streets. Most of all there isn't the sense of life, the spontaneity and improvisation, that you get in a truly great film like Robert Altman's McCabe and Mrs Miller. Watching such a film is like encountering a new city, a real living place: it has longueurs, bagginess, loose ends, because these are life. By comparison, the vaunted new masterpieces of American cinema are just not baggy enough. They are only half-alive."