And you are full of excrement.

And are now on IGNORE, as you are a crashing BORE.

One THOUSAND and forty-eight bile filled posts against all comers since May, 2010.  You have addictions, Moonraven  

No part of your racist personal attack is true, bigmouth whiteboy.

I am a film critic.

And although I respect Herzog as a director who has made many fine films, both fiction films and documentaries, I worship no film director.

Not even Pontecorvo!

I also have no addictions, as I am not a gringo.

And I will flame any stinking racist I feel like flaming.

Hate speech?  I worship Herzog!  I’ve met him three times and have attended his films at festivals all over the world.  His cinema verite quote was taken from one of them.

You Moonraven, on the other hand, appear to be having some sort of very public breakdown that compels you to start and maintain endless flamewars with Truthdiggers, brought on no doubt by those many yage & DMT trips with your Guarani brothers around the Amazon campfire.  Another poster got it right:  republican whiteboy.

Time weighs heavy on the internet-addicted.

You are correct in regard to the death of one of my indigenous brothers during the filming of Fitzcarraldo, but that doesn’t mean your big pile of steaming hatespeech about Herzog hold any water.

I don’t know what your problem is, and I really don’t WANT to know.  Folks like you who hop into internet to tell everybody how superior they are and how everybody who makes art is a liar and a bum give me a real pain in the ass.

“There is always this kind of distant echo as if I were endangering everyone and always dragging them into near-death experiences. That’s all baloney,” he says. “My proof is
that in more than 60 films not a single actor ever got hurt. Not one.”

No SAG actor with speaking lines was hurt, true enough—but a Guarani Indian who worked as an extra was killed trying to haul Herzog’s enormous ferryboat over an Amazon mountain in Fitzcarraldo.  The accident figures prominently in Les Blank’s “Burden of Dreams”, about the making of the film.

I’m glad for Truthdig’s continuing fascination with all things Herzog, but the Guardian piece is a little too credulous of Herzog’s self-mythologizing—for instance his recent backyard “shooting” during a live BBC interview. 

Herzog has said “I don’t believe in cinema verite; sometimes a really good *lie* is better than any truth.”  He staged the most
famous shot in his Faith and Superstition in Russia documentary, paying drunk vagrants to peer through the ice of a frozen lake in search of a saint who lives in it’s depths.  And how about the sniffing parfumier who prowls the French hillsides of his latest cave docu?

It’s Herzog’s great triumph imho to have foisted so much bullshit on his public and made it stick.

Interesting synchronicity—I was just thinkng and posting about his film, Cave of Forgotten Dreams on the Iran thread—and here he is again.

I concur with his posture.  I want to see what’s coming at me, too—and I don’t think I have lived nearly 68 years to put my head in the sand at the crucial moment.

Fidel Castro is 85, and he wants to see what’s coming at him, too.

Being afraid amounts to believing that you will not be able to perform, do your job, cope.

Believing one is able to cope is a requirement for staying alive.

Death introduces the indisputable fact that you may not be able to cope.

Everybody fears death until they are forced by circumstances beyond their control to admit that they can no longer cope.

Life forces every living being to fear death automatically.  The cells fear death.  The molecules fear death.  The toe nails, the ear drums, the heart and the brain—the eyeballs perhaps most of all—fear death.

Something like that.