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2011-06-18 - 3:01 p.m.

Watched Pulp Fiction last night, for the first time in a long time. That thing holds up. I was mesmerized. Everything about it is great: the talking, the look of it, the acting, the weirdo sequence of the events. And the music is still great and still surprising. I'd maybe tone down some of the dialogue that comes off as too smart, too rehearsed, but that's it. It should go directly into some vault, buried in the heart of some mountain in Utah, so that advanced humans or aliens or mega-cockroaches can one day find it and say: Oh, so they were on to something after all.

What I'd also put in that vault:
- A copy of The Handmaid's Tale.
- A bunch of episodes of Desert Island Discs. It's the greatest radio show. I could listen to three hundred in a row.
- The Outkast track "B.O.B." Shit! I don't know how to dance to this song, but I try, every time.
- A life-like facsimile of the jalapeno pepper plant I'm growing on the deck. It's perfect.
- A Sunday New York Times.
- A very cold bottle of beer. Or, like, six or twenty of them. I know this list is getting ridiculous but that's all right.
- A recording of every kind of laugh there is.
- Pulp Fiction. And The Wire. And this movie Heaven, with Cate Blanchett and Giovanni Ribisi.
- And a very good oil painting, the kind that you can look at for a long time.

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