I'm an over-educated reader of tea leaves ... I've been known to ask the person seated in front of an inkblot: "what might this be?"
They're changing dimensions these days ... shorter & wider ... still a load of shit for the most part, though I get a chuckle from all the gristly forensic stuff & that ever fabulous dung beetle wending its sisyphusian way up the branch ...
A cinema buff here. Some of the directors I admire: Fassbinder; Herzog; Jean-Marie Straub; Hans-Jurgen Syberberg (won't catch his work on the tube); Peter Greenaway; Michael Powell; Nicholas Ray; Fritz Lang; Hitchcock; Val Lewton; Anthony Mann; Orson Welles; Tod Solondz; Sergio Leone; Sam Peckinpah; Martin Scorsese; Charlie Kaufman (the screenwriter); Warhol's cinema; Truffaut; Godard (of course!); Resnais ... god shuttup already, man! More later.
First & foremost, the literature of transgression.