
Mark Rothko.
chzane: This is what a dying artist creates, as his painting’s color got darker and darker his suicide came closer and closer. On February 25, 1970, Oliver Steindecker, Rothko’s assistant, found the artist in his kitchen, lying dead on the floor in front of the sink, covered in blood. He had sliced his arms with a razor found lying at his side. During autopsy it was discovered he had also overdosed on anti-depressants.
The International Syndicate of Cult Film Critics aim to celebrate shoddy B-movies and straight-to-video films. We will cover these flicks fondly, with tongues firmly kept in our cheeks. The one thing we ask of those who contribute to the Club is that you must watch the film in its entirety, even if this means having to strap yourself down onto a chair and getting your eyelids locked out like Alex DeLarge from ‘A Clockwork Orange’. It is imperative that you absorb the visual treats.
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"Drunk at the matinee" is a collection of candid poetry about stupid shit that we all experience from day to day.




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