They put chains on me they chained my waist my legs. Put me in the back of a squad car and I literally blacked out. I didn't even - there's whole pieces missing.
It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom whole worlds apart who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.
Bad acting comes in many bags various odors. It can be performed by cardboard refugees from an Ed Wood movie reciting their dialogue off an eye chart or by hopped-up pros looking to punch a hole through the fourth wall from pure ballistic force of personality like Joe Pesci in a bad mood. I can respect bad acting that owns its own style.