Latest Kirsten Dunst Articles
Now if I want to coddle my inbred apocalypticism, I’d rather get in bed with Rimbaud. Or Murakami. Or Joan Didion. Some days—maybe most days—I can’t stand to read anybody who doesn’t think we live in cool beautiful entropy. The world is speeding up and falling apart. No other way I can think of it.
Sometimes, when you put your put in your mouth, it’s difficult to get it out, and it just gets worse. That’s what happened when von Trier was asked about making a blockbuster and he responded, “Yes. We Nazis like to do things on a big scale. Maybe I could do the Final Solution.”
We’ve all been friends with a Lindsay Lohan—a crazy hot girl who’s a blast to hang out with until she’s stolen all of your drugs, clothes and boyfriend. She’s the friend you invite to parties with a warning. “Listen, my friend Lindsay is coming and she’s a bit of a loose cannon. Just be chill around her and I’m sorry if she does anything too insane. Love her though!”