it's the first

I was surprised to find out that French simply does not include the word MEAN. I mean, it's an extremely important in word in English, and in Hebrew aussi. But French, it seems, contains only the next facets: ÇA VEUT DIRE & SIGNIFIER. So it's either something wants to say something, or it signifies something - but it does not "mean" anything, it is empty of meaning. It does not sustain the illusion of carrying any meaning, and also - you can't misinterpret its intentions, because it doesn't have any to begin with. If it wants to say something, it means (god, again) it has a certain direct responsibility that cannot be diluted. And if it signifies something, well, I guess signs can definitely be misinterpret but at least we're all aware of that risk. Whereas when we're dealing with "what does he mean by that", it all becomes a bit blurry. Who knows what anyone means? ⌖
They say this is The City of Cinema. I know it is. Living in the 5th arrondissement you cannot know that, right? Latin and whatnot. But how can you access this legacy of cinema without being incredibly pretentious about it? Well, here's what I did: I went to IMDB and searched for all titles avec PARIS in it.

I actually did. Hold the Godard for me tonight folks!

If the pics aren't showing, turn on the 'display images' option

And so here's me scanning and scrolling, when I locate the combination of numbers which assures I'll watch almost any American movie: 199X - in this case, 1995.

It's called FORGET PARIS and it's really cute. It has Billy Crystal & Deborah Winger in it, and it's a completely depthless plagiat of every movie Woody Allen has ever made (excluding the two main actors, this also true regrading the cast. Oh lord Julie Kavner). But: it has a warm manner to it, and again, it was made in the 90's and before the end of 1996, which means SUCH GREAT NORMCORE vibes all over.

As in most modern American movies - and I'm totally guessing here - Paris stands for the dream, utopia-ville. The two meet accidentally, they have this unbelievable week in Paris, then guess what - back in the US, real life begins. How to sustain the initial crush? WHATEVER, not interested, I mean I am interested but not really, as we've been through that road so many times before, haven't we? WHAT I AM INTERESTED IN IS HOW YOU ACTUALLY LIVE IN THE DREAM WHICH IS PARIS.

The first time I came here as an adult was to see a David Bowie concert. I was 20. I was amazed, and not by the show, which was good, I guess, but because seeing this creature actually moving on stage had an eery feeling about it. And I don't mean that in the "oooh, alien Bowie" sense, pas de tous. The question arises: does he actually exist? Does Elvis exist? How can you be grander than life? It's a terrible thing to say, but in a way this cannot be art. I've always been team Lou Reed.

So grand is a problem. And existing as a fantasy is a problem. HOW TO MAKE PARIS REAL?