Boobie Tassels For Buddha

Not to mention the wicked shower scene right near the beginning featuring Bale's perfect, perfect ass. Even the straightest of men envy that ass. Okay so yeah movie. It was odd as are most movies I've ever really liked. Patrick Bateman, played by Bale, is a 27 year old investment analyst on Wall Street. He's wealthy, attractive, and lives it up in high society. He's also a cocaine addict who enjoys torturing and killing...well, anyone--hookers, old girlfriends, coworkers, one night stands, police officers, bums, homosexuals, cab drivers, dogs, rats...anything with a pulse. The movies is full of senseless murder, music diatribes, yuppie cockstains, and even has an explosion. It's dark and it makes you think. It creates the kind of unease that good thrillers are supposed to as opposed to the torture and gore porn we're becoming used to today with movies like Saw. It makes you think...makes you wonder about the people closest to you. 


There's another side to this though....

The movie was not even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to most of Bateman's activities and in no way does it prepare you for what you're going to read. For example, here is a scene from the movie where Bateman murders a fellow employee of Pierce & Pierce:

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Now this is how the same scene reads in the book:

The ax hits him midsentence, straight in the face, its thick blade chopping sideways into his open mouth, shutting  him up. Paul's eyes look up at me, then involuntarily roll back into his head, then back at me, and suddenly his hands are trying to grab at the handle, but the shock of the blow has sapped his strength. There's no blood at first, no sound either except for the newspapers under Paul's kicking feet, rustling, tearing. Blood starts to slowly pur out of the sides of his mouth shortly after the first chop, and when I pull the ax out--almost yanking Owen out of the chair by his head--and strike him with it again in the face, splitting it open, his arms flailing at nothing, blood sprays out in twin brownish geysers, staining my raincoat. this is accompanied by a horrible momentary hissing noise actually coming fromt he wounds in Paul's skull, places where bone and flesh no longer connect, and this is followed by a rude farting noise caused by a section of his brain, which due to pressure forces itself out, pink and glistening, through the wounds in his face. He falls to the floor in agony, his face just gray and bloody except for one of his eyes, which is blinking uncontrollably..."

I was quite disturbed by this book and for the first time in my life I had to stop reading here and there...just walk away from the book for a few days because it was too much for me to handle. It made me wonder what sort of sick fuck could think this up and live with it day after day while writing the scenes and what sort of pyschopath it would really take to 'be' Patrick Bateman. The author is Patrick Bateman's sickest desires and thoughts and quite frankly I want to know what the fuck is wrong with him. Here are some examples that made me wonder:

...blue and red intestines bulge out and I drop the dog onto the sidewalk...the sharpei drags itself around in a circle, its tail wagging, squealing, and it starts licking and sniffing the pile of its own intestines, spilled out in a mound on the sidewalk, some still connected to its stomach....

The band Motorhead formed in 1975 in Great Britain by bassplayer, songwriter, and singer known to fans as Lemmy, who has remained the band's only constant member. Motorhead has widely been known as a metal band, but even the creator, Lemmy, disagrees. Instead, the band just plays rock and plays what they feel--the commons sense evolution of rock as it was already known. The band was pretty successful during the 70s and 80s. Several singles were featured on Britain's top 40 and the band is actually number 26 on VH1's top 100. Arguably the most famous Motorhead songs is Ace of Spades. It's thundering bass riffs emphasize their ability to play faster, harder, and stronger than anyone else in the metal genre at the time. Another song loved by most and also one of my favorites, Overkill. The epitome of Motorhead's winding fast and gutteral, powerful, edgy rock n roll lyrics is exemplified in Overkill and is fully backed by Lemmy's artisan basswork, Fast Eddie Clark's lightening guitar work.

...using the power drill with a detachable, massive head I widen that hole while she shakes, protesting, and once I'm satisfied with the size of the hole I've created, her mouth open as wide as possible, a reddish-black tunnel of twisted tongue and loosened teeth, I force my hand down, deep into her throat, until it disappears up to my wrist...and grab at the veins lodged there like tubes and I loosen them with my gingers and when I've gotten a good rip on them violently yank them out through her open mouth, pulling until the neck caves in, disappears, the skin tightens and splits...

..force her mouth open and with the scissors cut out her tongue, which I pull easily from her mouth and hold in the palm of my hand, warm and still bleeding, seeming so much smaller than in her mouth, and I throw it against the wall, where it stickes for a moment, leaving a stain, before falling to the floor with a tiny wet slap. Blood gushes out of her mouth and I have to hold her head up so she won't choke. Then I fuck her in the mouth, and after I've ejaculated and pulled out, I mace her some more. 

Those aren't even the parts where I had to take breaks so just realize I'm doing you a fucking favor and thank me on your knees or buy me things. I'll take either one just so long as you're on your knees in person. You'll look better that way. Either way, I really must say, even though a good number of people might disagree with me, that I have absolutely no respect for this author. This book was over the top ridiculous in it's violence. Any story about a serial killer needs violence. It's inherent, but I don't need that sort of thrill from a read. I don't think anyone does. He can create powerful images with written word and that, by and far, is a great gift, but he abuses it with this book. I doubt seriously that I'd read any other books he's written or watch any moves based on them (Rules of Attraction). I really would rather this sick fuck not make another dime for all the rest of his life.

Excuse me now, I have to go return some videotapes.