I've been thinking a lot lately about the movie, American Psycho. Just last Monday, my friend and I saw a gentleman in downtown KC who was the embodiment of Patrick Bateman, vice president. He didn't just resemble him; he was him. He wore a long wool coat over designer business attire, and he was wearing headphones. Remember Christian Bale at the beginning of the film, walking purposefully through his office listening to "I'm Walkin' on Sunshine"? It was just like that. You could just tell this guy lives a life of profound self-delusion.

Which reminds me of that film starring Peter O'Toole, called The Ruling Class, in which a landed gentleman named Jack believes he is Jesus Christ. Through therapy and extensive interventions by his family, Jack comes to adopt a more normal persona. He begins to answer to the name Jack. Problem is, his Jack is Jack the Ripper. The idea is that someone behaving in a kindly, New Testament sort of way is seen by society as being aberrant, whereas someone behaving like Jack the Ripper fits right in. If you haven't seen this film, you should rent it immediately. It's rather long, but quite worth it, if only for the scene in which Peter O'Toole's Jesus faces off with another 'Jesus' from the psychiatric facility. (This second guy fancies himself "the Electric Jesus" and pretends to shoot lightning bolts at Peter O'Toole.)

Which reminds me of the movie Being There, starring the inimitable Peter Sellers, who is a such a rock star in my book it's not even funny. He portrays an extremely simple man, whose extremely simple words keep getting twisted and misrepresented by everyone around him. He ends up advising the president of the United States.

Which reminds me of Stranger in a Strange Land, by Robert Heinlein. People just can't fathom that this beefcake guy from Mars does not have a hidden agenda.

Which reminds me of Dostoevsky's The Idiot, a much earlier and better executed disquisition on the same topic: namely, how people can't communicate on an authentic level because of the collision of text and subtext.

Which reminds me of every Harold Pinter play ever written.

Which reminds me of They Live!, starring Rowdy Roddy Piper. In this film, society is infiltrated by aliens who ensure our docility by subliminally encouraging us to consume, reproduce, and OBEY. One man, however, is given the sunglasses to see through it all. Huh-larious.

Which reminds me of the "To Serve Man" episode of The Twilight Zone. (It's a cookbook!!!)

Which reminds me of Brazil, and the lady with the acid therapy. Just when you think the guy has escaped, well...I won't ruin it for you. (The image of Michael Palin in that cherub mask still gives me chills, by the way.)

Which reminds me of Andy Warhol's Dracula, a weird criticism of capitalistic society delivered with sexual metaphors.

Which reminds me of David Cronenberg's Videodrome. But just a little bit.

Which reminds me of Pink Floyd's The Wall. This was intended to be an indictment of war, but ended up being chiefly about one guy's spiraling descent into mental illness (and maggots). I have a great affection for this film, although I'm not sure why. Probably because I, too, am a person of considerable angst. Anyway, great music.

Which reminds me of Lost Highway, that bizarre foray into schizophrenia in which Bill Pullman plays acid jazz, Patricia Arquette is both blonde and brunette, and Robert Blake is really, really, really-really scary. (Sadly, that movie has made it a little too easy to belive the current allegations against Mr. Blake.) Anyway, there's a great Lou Reed song and a murder that may or may not have occurred.

Which reminds me of Vanilla Sky, in that you never know what is really happening and what is only a dream. Some people may find this to be profoundly unsettling, but hey, you get to see Tom Cruise run around with a disfigured face, screaming "Tech support! Tech support!" Lots of mergers and acquisitions.

Which reminds me of...American Psycho?