I would like to be a rock star, but I lack the talent, ability, looks, charisma, stamina, etc.
I share very few interests with any of my friends.
I haven't slept in a bed regularly since 2002, and sometimes my back hurts.
Sometimes I drink. A lot. But not often.
I watch a lot of movies and TV, and read a lot of books.
So here’s my own personal list of my favorite shows of the last decade.
Favorite Shows Still On Air
Breaking Bad
I’ve always liked anti-heroes and villains more than stand-up good guys. I don’t know where this show will ultimately go, but the first two seasons have been excellent.
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia
The humor in the early seasons was more pointed and focused, but the timing and characterization from the later seasons keeps it going strong. There are duds here and there, but its highs are excellent. One of the only shows I watch with no ongoing story. Almost all the comedies I like revolve around failure and embarrassment.
LOST
No other show has engaged me the way this one does. Unless it completely drops the ball and does something awful, I suspect that it will ultimately be my favorite show of all time.
Mad Men
Assuming it gets picked up for a fourth season. I’m not really a big Don Draper fan. He seems like a big bully to me. It’s all the characters around him that fascinate me. And it looks incredible in HD. If I didn’t watch it in HD, I don’t know if I would love it as much.
The Venture Brothers
It borrows from and subverts some of my favorite cartoons as akid – namely Jonny Quest and Scooby Doo. I don’t know if I really feel like it’s going somewhere specific, but I love the expansive cast of characters and complicated plots.
Favorite Shows I Enjoyed From Beginning To End
Arrested Development
I feel like this show ended at just the right time. It started to get just a little too silly and broad for me, but I loved the dry absurdity.
Carnivale
It’s very esoteric, but I’m okay with that. It looks, sounds, feels amazing. The entire cast is incredible. The cinematography is gorgeous. The creepiness is off the charts. I really wish it had gotten a proper run.
Daybreak
For a show that takes place over two days, it is crazy complex. Luckily, the network allowed them to finish out the season properly despite canceling the show before they were done shooting and knowing that it would never air on the network. (I watched the remainder of the season on ABC.com.
Extras
Shattered dreams are so funny. I can watch graphic horror movies without flinching, but I have to cover my eyes when I watch this show.
Freaks and Geeks
I saw the last few episodes of its run and thought it was very sweet. I identified much more with the freaks than the geeks. I wish this and Veronica Mars had been around while I was in high school.
The Office (UK)
I never got into the American version, but I hear people are actually getting married and not getting fired in that version. Lame.
Six Feet Under
During the fourth season, it felt as if the show was spinning its wheels too much, but it came back with a vengeance during the final season. My favorite remains the third – which was the most depressing. Bonus: my favorite opening title sequence ever.
Veronica Mars
I kind of like cliffhanger endings and unresolved stuff, so the ending doesn’t bother me, but I really miss the characters a lot. My favorite season is the second. The labyrinthine mystery, the darkness, Kirsten Bell.
Favorite Shows That Lost Me Along The Way
Battlestar Galactica
The characters were too inconsistent at times, and I was one of those that felt let down by the ending. I wasn’t totally on board all along the way, and I was relying on the ending to put some of my misgivings in perspective. FAIL.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
I probably enjoyed the sixth season best – despite hating the finale for that season, but I never really LOVED the show. I still haven’t seen every episode. It excels at building a history with the characters and calling on that when it needs to. Otherwise, it’s a bit too snarky for me.
Friday Night Lights
I loved the first season – except for that finale. If a show can actually get me to care about sports, it’s performing miracles.
Malcolm in the Middle
I loved the first two seasons, but the show never grew along with the characters. They seemed to be trapped at twelve perpetually.
Nip/Tuck
I loved the second season of this show. I thought it was the perfect blend of trashy and dark and funny. After that, it just felt like a bore despite the over-the-top grotesquery parade.
Oz
Much of this show never made any damn sense, but I had to tune in and find out who was going to die every week. There was a moment in the final season that totally reduced me to tears. Mentally impaired Cyril is going to be executed by the state, and all the prisoners in Emerald City go back to their cells, close the doors, and bang on the glass in protest. The only time that all the prisoners came together over something. I’m getting a little teary eyed thinking about it now, so I’m going to move on.
The West Wing
The first two seasons are such a warm fuzzy fantasy of what politics should be like. It almost makes me interested in politics. During the third and fourth seasons, I felt like the show repeated itself too much and never followed through on some of the plotlines it set up – letting most of them fizzle out. I stopped watching after Sorkin left.
The Shows I Caught Exclusively on DVD
Firefly
It took a while for me to warm to this show, but I enjoy it. Knowing that it would ultimately fizzle out kind of dampened my enthusiasm for it, though.
The Shield
The season with Glenn Close was a bore, but all the other seasons were tense and visceral and infuriating. I generally don’t like cop shows, but cop shows don’t usually show warts like these.
Skins
I’m kind of a sucker for dark teen dramas. I’ve seen the first two seasons of this show and love the characters. Some episodes are too sitcom-like, but the show is not afraid to go to some dark and darkly comical places. I don’t know if I’ll like the third season now that it will focus on different characters.
Shows That Never Grabbed Despite Everyone’s Telling Me They Should
Futurama
It always felt like Simpsons-lite to me. I mean, Jurassic Bark is sad and all, but the show never grabbed me.
The Sopranos
I’m not that into gangster shit. I thought the first two seasons were interesting mostly because of the psychiatry angle, but seemed to settle into being just another gangster epic after that. I think The Godfather and Goodfellas are great, but most other gangster stories always feel like echoes of those to me.
The Wire
Not into cop shows. This one focused on and empathized with the criminals more than most, but ultimately there were still too many cop show conventions for my taste. They get taken off the case once a season. There’s too many cops who want to prevent them from solving the case because of contrived reasons. And McNulty is just too fucking obnoxious. I enjoyed the fourth season quite a bit, though. Mostly because it was McNulty-free, and often felt more like a dark teen drama than a cop show.
I am going to attempt to watch as many hand drawn animated Disney films as I can before their latest, The Princess and the Frog. And I'm going to attempt to do so in chronological order. Here are the first six and a half that I have watched.
*Pinocchio also counts as one of the movies that has most influenced me in my taste, so this post is serving a double purpose.
SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS
Film: Disney’s Folly. This movie was a huge gamble for Disney. The entire future of his studio rested on this movie. A full length cartoon had never been before. Many thought audiences could not sit still long enough for a cartoon more than seven minutes long. But it was a huge success and kept Disney afloat for the next decade.
Plot: A pubescent girl spends her days singing about boys until one day a pedophile trespasses on her property and sings with her. Her guardian decides to do the world a favor and off the young girl, but the creepy hitman lets her go. The girl escapes into the woods where her fowl stench attracts every rodent for miles. With the animals trailing her, she breaks into a stranger’s house and, unable to contribute in any other way, cleans the shit out of the place. She then crawls into the beds of seven different men and waits for them. The men come home, leer at her, and force her to entertain them in an endless party while she cleans more and more. The next day, the guardian tracks down the girl and offers her a sweet apple. The rodents attracted by the young girl’s unrelenting stench, attack the guardian. The seven creepy men race home and chase the guardian off a cliff. The young girl, now in a coma, is incased in glass by the seven men who stare at her until the pedophile comes along and takes advantage of her while in her catatonic state. She comes to just as he abducts her.
Nature of Villain’s Death: Death by a fall caused by lightning.
Nature of Songs: Almost all the songs are meant to reinforce the status quo. From a girl’s longing to have a man take her away (”Some Day My Prince Will Come”, “I’m Wishing”) to the joys of work (“Heigh Ho”, “Whistle While You Work”, “The Hand-Washing Song”). And all the songs suck.
My Favorite Moment: The Queen’s transformation into a witch. Taken straight from Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde, the dark imagery and foreboding score is the only source of menace in the entire movie. Although the witch’s kicking a bucket at a rotting skeleton is pretty awesome as well.
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: When Snow White wistfully hypothesizes that the seven children who live in the cottage are orphans, a baby deer moves to its mother and they cuddle. I mean there’s telegraphing a point, then there’s rubbing it in. Then, beyond those things, there are moments like this.
Political Agenda: The movie very much plays up the traditional role of the woman as homemaker – waiting to be swept away by a man. The only actions Snow White takes is to clean, sing, stumble, and fall into a coma. She flutters around with her hands up, giggling and cooking and singing until her prince carries her away – that is when she’s not praying to God for people to like her. The Queen had the right idea. Any movie that dedicates ten minutes to watching characters wash their hands has a moral agenda that I can’t get behind. Dirty hands unite!
Competition at the time: This was the first full length animated movie ever -so there wasn’t any competition at the time. But it wasn’t long before Fleischer Studios put out Gulliver’s Travels – which is more than a little influenced by Snow White’s style and tone. And yet, as unwatchable as I find Snow White, Gulliver’s Travels is even more soporiphic.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: Almost immediately, Disney recruited the Seven Dwarfs to sell war bonds in various animated commercials and propaganda.
Verdict: It’s a lot like watching home movies by people who think they’re comedians – intercut with ominous Evil Footage from a different, better movie. Suffering through the Dwarfs interminable hijinks nearly drove me to tears. But it does look good. Revolutionary for its time, I can’t imagine a kid who would willingly sit down to watch it today and not get bored by the mere two dimensions and dated humor. It’s only dramatic when the Evil Queen is on screen. I am shocked every time it makes a list of the Greatest Movies Ever Made.
PINOCCHIO
Film: Snow White had proven a hug success, so Disney had few qualms about pouring great amounts of cash into his second feature. Unfortunately, thanks to World War II, the overseas market was gone. Even though it was the biggest domestic success f the year, it lost a great deal of money.
Plot: Old man makes surrogate child out of toy. It starts moving. Rather than killing the moving toy or the bugs that have infested it, the old man lets the toy loose in a town renowned for creeps with moving toy fetishes. The toy navigates this city of pedophiles until it gets swallowed by a fish that also happens to have swallowed the old man. They get out, but the toy has become a creepy real boy, who is then repeatedly fondled by the old man.
Nature of Villain’s Death: Ready for something really subversive? The villains –yes plural – in Pinocchio DON’T DIE. They live on – to terrify and take advantage of others.
Nature of Songs: Unlike Snow White, many of Pinocchio’s songs are highly subversive. From the songs about ditching work (“Hi-Diddley-Dee”) to songs about free thinking (“I’ve Got No Strings”) Is there a punk cover of “I’ve Got No Strings”? If not, there should be. But there are also songs reminiscent of Snow White’s vanilla moralizing and passiveness (“When You Wish Upon a Star”, Give a Little Whistle”) and allowing for fate to see you through.
I prefer the former songs.
My Favorite Moment: Lampwick’s transformation into a donkey. This scene is as scary as anything you’ll see in a horror movie. The fists morphing into hooves. The screams for “Momma!” morphing into squeals. The wild kicking. This scene is truly terrifying. The entire Pleasure Island sequence is frightening – down to the dark “blokes” who separate the talking donkeys from the not-so-talking donkeys. (“I want my mommie!”) How can this not be someone’s favorite moment!
Although the moment I most often quote is Jiminy Cricket’s incredulous reaction to the Blue Fairy’s suggestion that perhaps Pinocchio, now sporting a yard-long nose, is lying. “PERHAPS!?”
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: Jiminy’s odd schtick near the beginning of the movie. “Well, you can’t please everybody.” He tries too hard to be funny and silly – essentially talking to himself for the benefit of the audience. Thankfully, once he has Pinocchio to talk through, he mostly drops this habit.
Political Agenda: The boys in Disney cartoons are universally more daring and dangerous than the girls. This movie openly acknowledges that a boy needs to be a little bad and experiment to grow up. It also eschews any romantic subplots in favor of danger and adventure. One of the darkest Disney movies. It contains real drama and danger.
Competition at the time: None that I know of. The only non-Disney animated movie I’m aware of in the next twenty years is Animal Farm.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: Jiminy Cricket went on to appear not only in short films (like Mickey’s Christmas Carol), but also another feature film (Fun and Fancy Free).Figaro would go on to appear in just over half a dozen short films himself.
Verdict: My favorite Disney movie. This was the first VHS tape I ever owned. I must have watched it fifty times as a nine-year-old. I know every word by heart and I love it. Every watered-down love story that followed has always felt trite and pathetic and toothless as a result. This is the gold standard.
FANTASIA
Film: Disney had a dream of creating a visual concert film. It was an artsy endeavor. Expensive with no idea of what kind of audience would show up. Well, like Pinocchio, it lost a lot of money. It was not until the sixties, when a generation embraced trippy art films like this and 2001 and the French New Wave, that this movie became truly popular.
Plot: The movie is purposely plotless and abstract.
Nature of Villain’s Death: Each sequence basically follows the same strategy. There is peace, something awakes and chaos runs rampant, but by the end, peace has reigned again. No villains really die. They just seem to retreat back to where they started – that is if there’s any villain at all. The only exception may be “The Rite of Spring” sequence in which all the dinosaurs go extinct due to a change in the earth’s atmosphere. Extreme heat, earthquakes, floods. Death is non-discriminating here.
Nature of Songs: All classical music with no lyrics – other than the Latin in “Ava Maria.”
My Favorite Moment: “Night on Bald Mountain” Chernabog (Bela Lugosi was used as a model for this character) wakes with the fall of night and summons all manner of creepiness to him. The skeletal spirits soaring over the town toward the mountaintop. Chernabog’s shadow spreading over the town – distorting it. His massive wings stretching across the sky. And the music. But specifically, there’s something about that moment when the women, dancing in Chernabog’s hand, turn into pigs and goats, and then into spacey-eyed demons, that absolutely gives me the chills.
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: There are many. The final “Ava Maria” scene is pretentious and slow and embarrassing and makes me feel like I’m sitting through a church service. But even worse is anytime the Narrator attempts to explain a piece of music to the audience – especially when the narrator introduces us to the “soundtrack”. It’s too cutesy by half and far, far too condescending to the audience. That moment has aged poorly.
Political Agenda: To bring high-class music to the common folk. One of the boldest moments comes as the Narrator sings the praise of #science and evolution – even though he doesn’t use that word - when introducing the thrilling “Rite of Spring” sequence. If the movie were being released today for the first time, certain political groups would certainly raise a fuss. The movie definitely gives science (represented by “The Rite of Spring”) more weight than religion (represented by “The Pastoral Symphony”).
Competition at the time: None that I know of.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: Disney attempted numerous knock-off sequels over the next decade, but did not launch an official sequel until Fantasia 2000.
Verdict: An ambitious and beautiful movie. Ahead of its time. Unique in its vision. A movie that is impossible not to respect. As with most anthology movies, some bits play better than others, but as an experience, Fantasia is excellent. Boring for some, thrilling for others, fascinating at least a little to most.
THE RELUCTANT DRAGON
At this time, Disney released a film called “The Reluctant Dragon”. And by “reluctant”, they mean gay, gay, gay. Also surprising is the strong pacifist message a few years into World War II. It’s pretty awesome, actually. It is not readily available on DVD, but it doesn’t matter. The movie is little more than a commercial for how the Disney studio works. Live action documentary footage peppered with short animated movies. The final short (“The Reluctant Dragon”) is the tent pole short, but it’s not even the most well respected in the group.
DUMBO
Film: Dumbo helped the Disney studios a great deal. It was cheap to make, short, and extremely popular.
Plot: A mother receives a deformed child. Prejudice from the community ruins the lives of the mother and son, but the child embraces his differences and eeks out his place in the world.
Nature of Villain’s Death: The villain is PREJUDICE. Prejudice never dies!
Nature of Songs: Mostly embarrassing. From the overly childish “Casey, Jr.” and “Pink Elephants on Parade”, to the typically-goofy-of-its-time “When I See an Elephant Fly”, little of the music has aged well. – although the Pink Elephants on Parade sequence has some stunning visuals. I really love the water parts with the inverted shadows. The only exception . . .
My Favorite Moment: “Baby Mine” I defy you to watch the scene in which Dumbo’s exceedingly sweet mother reaches her trunk through the bars of her cage to cradle her child and NOT be reduced to tears.
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: The crows.
Political Agenda: Well, the movie is all about embracing those who are different. Despite looking different from everyone else, Dumbo has something to contribute to society. And yet, with the movie’s depiction of the crows, it rings a bit hollow.
Competition at the time: None that I know of.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: In the eighties, Disney produced a live-action children’s show called Dumbo’s Circus. Disney also planned a sequel around 2003, but scrapped it.
Verdict: An extraordinarily moving cartoon. As soon as one of the rude elephants labels young Jumbo “Dumbo” and the Dumbo’s mother reacts by shutting out the mean spirited elephants and cradling her child, the movie has completely seduced the audience. Its depiction of a mother’s love for her child is powerful stuff to be sure. The ending is abrupt and sudden, but satisfying. One of my favorites.
BAMBI
Film: This movie nearly bankrupted the studio. It required an attention to detail and an expansive set of characters that Disney simply could not afford at that time. At one point, an animal vanishes from the screen. This happens because there wasn’t enough money to continue animating the character. (NOTE: on the current DVD, Disney cuts away just before this happens. It’s still on my VHS though). After Bambi, Disney took a break from expensive features for seven years, licking its wounds and deciding how to proceed.
Plot: An animal is born. Animals traipse around the forest giggling and running and shit. Seasons change. Characters become more and more obnoxious.
Nature of Villain’s Death: No villain dies, but Bambi sends Rape Deer crashing into a lake.
Nature of Songs: Shit. They’re all shit. It opens with a sickly sweet song “Love something or other”. The “April Showers” song is unlistenable.
My Favorite Moment:Any scene involving man. Bambi’s mother gets shot by man – inspiring my own mother to criticize my family’s propensity for deer-hunting as “killing Bambis”.That scene is surprisingly tense and beautiful. There’s a real menace present anytime Man is around. The final push through the forest is the only real highlight of the movie.
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: So much to choose from. Anytime any character opens their mouth should count, but I’m going to focus on that whole “twitter-pated” sequence. It’s set up by Friend Owl as akin to being possessed by body snatchers. I’m inclined to agree with this assessment despite how it all plays out.
Political Agenda: For one thing, the movie promotes an almost absurd reverence for all things patriarchal. On the other hand, “Man . . . was in the forest.” But all is well because in the end Bambi has – not one – but TWO kids. The more kids you have, the happier the ending. Procreate! Procreate! Procreate!
Competition at the time: None that I know of.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: In 2005, they produced Bambi 2. I haven't seen it, but unless Godzilla destroys the forest, it's not worth my time.
Verdict: This movie coasts far too much on cutesy shit. Children saying precious crap. Copious amounts of time are dedicated to animals stumbling around the forest and laughing. We should show this movie to terrorists. Worse than waterboarding.
VICTORY THROUGH AIR POWER
Film: A propaganda film that was created to sell the idea of long range bombings in World War II.
Plot: A dubious animated documentary about the history of aviation and its role in warfare. A creepy Russian with a thick accent paces around a room explaining the importance of more bombs, more airplanes, more armies, more weapons, more, more more!
Nature of Villain’s Death: They get the fuck bombed out of them. And the Japanese Octopus gets scratched and pecked to death by an American Eagle.
Nature of Songs: A patriotic score.
My Favorite Moment: The eagle fights the octopus. The only bit of imaginative animation in the entire movie.
Most Cringe-Inducing Moment: Bullshit swipes at anyone who disagrees with the thesis of the film. In particular, the criticisms of France is especially infuriating. Way to kick someone when they’re down, Disney. Classy.
Also, should we be taking orders from a RUSSIAN? Should we? Huh? HUH!?
Political Agenda: “We must produce a vast amount of weapons of endless variety . . . We must deliver this maze of equipment all over the face of the Earth.” Well, it’s a flat-out diatribe about the importance of long range bombings. The movie is hawkish and is dedicated to those who argued we should build up our armies – going all the way back to 1919, not just focusing on the WWII years. The movie glorifies air warfare in an effort to build up its danger and power, but there’s something eerie about how the narrator describes total defeat at the hands of Nazi air power. “It’s a question of who destroys who first.”
Competition at the time: None that I know of.
How Has Disney Raped the Legacy of this Movie: Disney hid this movie in their vaults for over sixty years. So not much raping. In fact, I would say Disney is a wee bit ashamed of this one.
The air is crisp. The sun feels warm as long as the breeze doesn’t cut across my skin – giving me a chill and forcing brittle leaves to shower down in spurts. Sitting at a wooden table – my nose in a dull book. A cute girl sits at the table next to me. I shift a little so that I sneak glances at her over the top of my book – relatively confident that she couldn’t see my eyes through my sunglasses if she happens to look my way. I have to adjust how I’m sitting more than once.
Some guy sits between the corner of my table and another table. He pulls out a book and reads it – eschewing a table to set it on. A few times, I feel as if I can see him looking past me in my periphery. Two slightly large women sit at a table in front of me. One screams when a spider scrambles across her things. Her friend laughs for a full two minutes. This is okay. I could spend a little time doing this every day of my life.
Occasionally, my attention drifts to the regulars and college students frequenting the coffee shop. It’s a beautiful fall day. My knee is still sore from a bicycle accident earlier that day. A tear in my jeans, but it’s mostly pushed to the back of my mind. I overhear snippets of conversation – but not enough to know what anyone is really talking about. I can’t help but wonder what close friends talk about – or what casual friends talk about. What those people who meet here everyday talk about. Most are students, I suppose, bitching about papers and classes and teachers. Some aren’t. I want to ask this girl on my left what she’s reading, but I know I won’t be familiar with it. I will run out of things to say within seconds.
Halloween is less than a week away. I have a single party to go to. The night BEFORE Halloween. Older friends. I don’t expect too much excitement. The last party I attended was over a year ago. Not too many of my friends have parties. I have no actual plans for Halloween night. I would love to meet some new people. See a scary movie. Get laid. I would really love to get wasted. Not caring about how I’m going to get home or what kind of fool I’m going to make of myself. Maybe I’ll take a flask full of zombie.
Some guy at the movies last week recognized me and said “hi.” I recognized him, too, but I can’t remember where from. Where the hell do I know him from? Gah. This is still killing me. He seemed really nice.
There’s been too much death recently. No one I’m really close to. Mostly friends of friends. I suppose it’s hard to enjoy Halloween when something like that is looming over you. I'm on my own just now. I have lots of plans. Too many plans really. More than I can accomplish, it seems. But this moment right here, this moment is okay.
The following vaguely discusses the endings of THE 400 BLOWS, WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE, THE MIST, and DRAG ME TO HELL.
As usual, this weekend I found a lot to disagree with in my Twitter feed. Early in the weekend, one person (who regularly craps out useless one sentence turds deeming whatever latest bit of pop culture he has consumed, regurgitated and re-consumerd as good or bad) expressed anger in regards to the ending of Drag Me to Hell. He was furious about how a decent character suffers such a horrific demise. He felt the movie was bad natured and unenjoyable as a result. He went on to lament that only the ending of The Mist is worse. Someone else on Twitter then replied that within the strict morality play of Drag Me to Hell, the ending works. That last response goes over my head as I don’t see how that would alleviate the nature of the ending, but the exchange got me thinking about how I interpret the endings of these films versus how others apparently view them.
I love the endings of both of these movies. It’s not because I like to see decent characters suffer. I’m not a masochist, and I’m not turned on by blood and misery. In both cases, I feel as if the movie is still on the side of the main character. Both movies, in not backing down from their cynical and dark endings, grieve with the characters. They grieve for the characters. And they allow the audience to grieve with the characters in a way that does not require that the audience carry the weight of the world on its shoulders. I admit that I prefer horror movies with dark, tragic endings. A horror movie with a happy ending practically betrays the entire genre in its reaffirmation that good will always win out over evil. I am instantly attracted to a horror movie in which the evil wins. I don’t like these movies because I like to see evil win. But I do like to see movies ACKNOWLEDGE that evil wins. Not everyone in the world is destined for a happy ending. And horror movies are the perfect vessel for this idea. I can walk out of a tragic horror movie exhilarated. The visual excesses. The open allegories. The visceral suspense. My favorite horror movies use all these things to burrow under the viewer’s skin, to draw the audience into the plight of the characters, to allow the viewer to ache with the main characters, and then to release the audience in a rush of adrenaline. Unlike, say, a Holocaust film. A good Holocaust movie leaves the audience emotionally drained – burdened with the gravitas of human evil and the loss the world has incurred as a result. Yet, in a strange way, both horror movies and Holocaust movies serve similar purposes. They both examine human loss at the hands of unjust evil. One is meant to be fun and thrilling and for the masses. The other, weighty and scholarly and repetitive in its unrelenting loyalty to the lessons of history. As a result, one genre is disreputable, while the other is intimidatingly austere. I can easily spend 24 hours watching horror movies. My limit for Holocaust movies is one a quarter.
Later in the weekend, someone else mentioned how much they disliked Where the Wild Things Are. One of their many issues stemmed from the fact that the main character, Max, does not appear to apologize at the end of the movie. The person elaborated on her complaint by tying this lack of atonement with how she was raised – possibly implying that anyone who likes the movie was raised inadequately. She claimed that since the movie was too long already (at a whopping 94 minutes), another thirty seconds couldn’t hurt. I wholeheartedly disagree. If the movie had paraded out the character to make an apology to his mother, I would have no longer felt as if the movie were on Max’s side. After all, it would not have really been for the mother’s benefit. It would have been for the audience’s benefit. To force him to grovel in front of the audience would have subtley added an agenda to the movie that would have trumped the love for the characters that the movie had so beautifully cultivated up to that point. Where the Wild Things Are is not about good and bad or atonement. It was about the longings that consume its main character – a young boy. And yet, while I would have felt betrayed by the movie if Max had apologized, I would not have felt betrayed if the movie had actually given Max a more tragic fate. Of course, it could not be tacked on. A tragic ending has to be earned. It has to be woven into the very fabric of the story. The 400 Blows, for instance. A perfect example of a kid’s movie in which the movie is always, without a doubt, on the side of the main character – even when he messes up and does something wrong. That movie does not give excuses for Antione Doinel, but it longs to understand him, and the audience completely and utterly empathizes with Antione in that final shot. Nothing has been fair for him. His punishments have not been just. The movie is not taking on the role of punisher. It clearly lays out that enough people in Antione’s life have done that already. In that final shot, the movie evokes Antione’s sense of loss and loneliness and pain. It does not bask in his misery. It acknowledges his defeats, and it embraces him for it.
The difference between these two different kinds of endings is subtle. Part of it is a matter of genre. While Where the Wild Things Are contains melancholy and sadness and even a modicum of danger, it is not about evil. Or life and death, as horror is. It is a fantasy. It is about saying good-bye to childhood. One vital part of growing up is not apologizing for every choice you make. I’m not condoning Max’s behavior, but like the movie, I understand it. Many people like the morality in their movies cut and dry. They like people who do good things to get rewarded, and they like people who do bad things to get punished. I admit that I’m rarely happy unless I see something more complicated than this. I like not being sure exactly how I should feel about an ending. I like that a movie can empathize with a character without condoning what they do or rewarding them to outstanding family values. Movies are escapist, but that does not mean that they must all be wish fulfillment. Sometimes, it’s nice to have a movie commiserate with its audience.
A friend of mine has decided to watch all the Best Picture Oscar Winners in chronological order. A small group of people are joining him - including myself. Here are a few of the comments made at this year's movie.
“That guy is mean.”
“There’s too much happiness going on here.”
“We’re awfully far into a movie called Mutiny on the Bounty, with no mutiny.”
I did not have many comic books when I was growing up. My parents didn’t like them. From time to time, a friend of my dad’s would give me a big box of knock-off comic books (anybody else remember Spider-Ham?), but otherwise I never saw one. I somehow managed to get the occasional Batman or Spider-Man comic, but I never really followed any comics. That is, until I saw a G.I. Joe comic.
I was a huge fan of the G.I Joe animated series during its run on television. I was seven. I generally resisted showing any interest in the comics until I saw one with my absolute favorite character on the cover: Major Bludd. Why was he my favorite? Probably the eye patch and the batshit English accent. Or the arm canon and crazy moustache. Whatever it was, he was my favorite and I had to have that particular issue: Issue #17 “Loose Ends”. This issue came at the backend of the comic’s first ongoing story arc. Thusly, I was pretty confused by the action in the comic. Characters who weren’t on the show were in the comics. Strange relationships, both sexual and adversarial, existed between characters. And some characters were enemies despite being on the same team. This really was confusing for me. These characters I had come to love (from the animated TV series) were leading a double life! They were more violent and dangerous than I had thought. They spoke in choppy technical jargon that went way over my head. The good guys didn’t always seem like beacons of light and charity. It confused me - and excited me.
The story opens with Hawk, nearly dead and lying on the ground - blood streaming from him. As one character described him, he was in “a world o’hurt”. As I read on, I learned that Bludd had tried to kill Destro, who was now swearing revenge. There was a character named Scarface whom Bludd recognized (“--You!!”) just before getting slugged (in a series of thudding punches that contorted the body and made my own neck hurt) from a generic Joe character whose name I can’t recall even now. There was a character named Dr. Venom who confided in Cobra Commander that he should hope Major Bludd is dead(!). Hawk, once in the hospital, refers to himself as a dangerous character. And the Baroness is in the burn unit! It was all so damn sordid. And by the end of the issue, none of this was resolved. Not only were these characters leading a double life, I still didn’t have enough pieces to puzzle it out!
I was completely lost and baffled. I read that particular issue over and over trying to make sense of it. As I waded through the military terminology and Major Bludd’s nonsense poetry, I longed to know what had come before and what was coming next. I needed the context. I felt as if I had been missing out on something huge and awesome, and I needed to know more.
The next issue I bullied my parents into buying was #19 – it was the next issue I noticed on the rack at the store where I would get Icees. This issue was the last in this particular ongoing story arc. Wrapping things up – at least a little. In it, the Baroness is bandaged up like a mummy. Scarface has been captured by the Joes. And Kwinn and Snake Eyes have been taken prisoner by Cobra. The action culminates with a violent attack on G.I. Joe headquarters. Writer Larry Hama expertly cuts back and forth between battle action on the field, and smaller but equally violent action inside the G.I. Joe headquarters – where the really exciting stuff happens. Bludd, now a prisoner, manages to punch out Doc, steal his keys, shoot General Flagg in the back, and kill another Cobra soldier before rescuing the comatose Baroness and commandeering a Cobra copter. Scarface frantically begs Doc to free him before a bomb is set to go off, but Doc leaves Scarface behind to die in the explosion. On the field, the conflict between Kwinn and Venom comes to a head as Venom shoots Kwinn. Blood flows from Kwinn’s nose as he crumples to the ground, falling under Venom’s smoking gun. As he does, a grenade tumbles from his hand. With wild eyes, Venom spies it, “A grenade – fallen from a dead man’s hand.” Boom! In just a few pages, the comic writers had managed to kill off every major character who did not have a toy for purchase. No more Scarface. No more Flagg. No more Venom. And no more Kwinn.
The final frame of the issue features Hawk asking, “Why the long faces, fellas? We just won a – major . . . victory.” Trailing off as Snake Eyes and Doc hold out Kwinn’s necklace and Flagg’s dog tags – dark symbols of the casualties. For a kid who was used to the animated series (where soldiers ALWAYS parachuted from their helicopters before they crashed), this was heavy stuff. Death, sadness, betrayal. Awesome. And with the benefit(!) of not understanding why everyone is acting the way they are. Backstories were lost on me. Motivations were cloudy. And the dialogue was borderline indecipherable (for a kid). Most people would consider all these limitations a reason to lose interest in the comic. Not me. I loved it. It all compelled me to go back and immerse myself in this story and these warped versions of the characters I loved in the cartoon.
The only back issue I was able to find at the time (this was the period when I was introduced to The Great Escape), was issue #16: “Night Attack”. This issue filled in a few missing pieces. One: In an attempt to kill Destro, Bludd shoots the Baroness’ tank and leaves her as it explodes. But the scene that really grabbed me was the climatic fight on the back of the turret of a tank. Hawk climbs onto the Cobra tank and wrestles with Cobra Commander. After slugging the Commander, Hawk fights with Destro. As they fight, the Commander comes to. He stands, regards Hawk and Destro fighting and half-consciously mumbles, “unnhn . . . go t-to k-k-kill him . . . .That’s what I h-have t’do . . . K-kill him . . . Yes . . . but . . . which one?” As he slurs this, the frame reveals a face by face shot of Hawk and Destro. Blam, blam, blam. The Commander shoots Hawk in the back. Hawk crashes down to the ground and the tank rolls on. It was a chilling moment. I still didn’t fully grasp why the Commander would pause to consider whom he should shoot. At the time, I thought perhaps he had a bit of amnesia. As an adult, I can appreciate that the truth is meant to be ambiguous. Is it because the Commander wants to kill Destro? Is it because he is disoriented? Probably a little bit of both, and much more. Some of these moments went over my seven-year-old head. But I loved it. I wanted to understand it. I wanted to go back to the beginning and start over and so that I could understand these foreign motivations.
I would continue to get the odd issue of G.I. Joe – so many stories baffled and disturbed me. The issue in which the Soft Master dies was particularly shocking to me since it seemed especially random and without motivation. The issue in which the Cobra Commander’s son was on trial for attempting to assassinate the Commander was another highlight for me. Mostly because I was missing previous issues, so I wasn’t sure whom he was working with or why. I was also drawn in by his dare for the bad guys to “Bring in the guys with the rubber hoses.” I had no idea what that meant at the time, but my imagination went wild in a way that it rarely does as an adult. And the ever-growing grudges between characters (Destro was easily at odds with anyone else in Cobra). As with The Empire Strikes Back, my curiosity about what was happening in those missing moments fed my affection for serialized, oblique story-telling – even when it was full of holes, maybe even more so then. I also learned to love this alternate (at least to the cartoons) universe where the characters led very different, involved, dark lives. Not until years later, was I able to purchase a collection of the comics so that I could fill in the blanks. Filling in the empty pieces is always a bit disappointing, but the tease, the mystery – that’s what drew me in and galvanized my interest in G.I. Joe – and it continues to do so when I see it today.
Everyone is weighing in on Roman Polanski. It’s becoming one of those cultural dialogues where everyone must state where they stand on the issue and spread their wings and let everyone know how they feel about something that they have absolutely nothing to do with and which will remain unaffected by general opinion.
So here’s my two cents. I don’t much care. This whole affair has reminded me that I have still never seen TESS, but it’s now on hold at the library. Other than that, I’m annoyed and bored with everyone’s Facebook postings and Tweets on the matter. I very much like Repulsion and Rosemary’s Baby and MacBeth and The Tenant and Knife in the Water and Chinatown. He was a good director (I haven’t liked anything more recent than The Tenant), but that has nothing to do with him as a person. He’s undeniably fascinating. He narrowly survived the Holocaust (the only one in his family who did), and his wife was murdered by Charles Manson’s cult. This gives him license to be moody and sullen, but clearly it does not give him license to drug a rape a 13-year-old girl.
That was over thirty years ago. If charges had never been brought against him, the statute of limitations would have run out. But charges were brought. He appeared in court. A plea bargain was reached (time served plus monetary wishwash). However, the judge reneged on the plea bargain. That’s when Polanski skipped out and left the country – living in virtual self-imposed exile ever since. The legal waters are tricky. The plea bargain wasn’t fair, but neither was the Judge’s actions.
One side argues that what he did was not so bad and should be forgiven – a sentiment echoed (though not fully) by the victim who clearly wishes to leave this affair behind. The other side argues with a vicious puritan bloodlust that he should be strapped down and serve the rest of his existence in a cell. Technically, he’s met with the terms of the plea bargain. It was the Judge’s desire to make Polanski an example (something I am NEVER a fan of) that made Polanski an outlaw - outside of his own actions, of course. It seems to me like the fair thing to do now is try Polanski for being a fugitive from justice. That would reduce the victim’s role in this whole mess, which seems to be what she wants. Metting out punishment now seems useless as a deterrent. He doesn’t appear to have gone on a raping spree in the thirty years since.
What he did was terrible. Still, I often ponder the absoluteness with which one foul deed can condemn an otherwise good man, while one miraculous deed is unable to redeem a villain. I understand that certain behaviors are not to be tolerated in polite society – not even in small portions. It’s the vitriol that disturbs me. I’m not going to shed any tears if Polanski gets appropriate jail time through a reasonable process. There is a legal system in place. It’s sometimes shaky, but it requires our faith and trust to work accurately. Of course, at times, it requires our watchful eye and criticism. However, I hope the shouting matches and unmitigated outrage are sparse. I’m already sick of hearing about it, and no trial has even started yet.
On the other hand, if you want to watch some good horror movies this Halloween, any number of early Polanski moves are excellent choices.
This weekend I saw Andrei Rublev. This is the third Andrei Tarkovsky film I’ve seen. I had previously seen Stalker (which I hated) and Solaris (which I found alternatingly beautiful and silly). Andrei Rublev went a long way towards revealing Tarkovsky to me as something more than a pretentious self-righteous hack. I still think he is pretentious and self-righteous, but Rublev illustrated a mastery that I really didn’t see in the previous two films. My thoughts on the movie are mixed. During the intermission, someone asked me what I thought so far, and I didn’t know how to answer. I still don’t, really. But I’ll give it a shot here.
First off, I have to talk about the introduction the movie received. A local podcaster named Jett Loe gave the introduction. I’m now convinced he’s a complete tool. He began his introduction, not by talking about the film itself, but about the audience that doesn’t get it. It’s their fault, you see. They’ve been conditioned by commercial cinema. He suggested we have Hitchcock to blame by focusing on suspense and cultivating and interest in “what happens next.” Of course to blame Hitchcock is to suggest that Hitchcock created suspense. It also ignores thousands of years of storytelling, much of which used suspense and mystery to engage the audience. Of course, this is not his point. He’s trying to build Tarkovsky up by tearing other filmmakers down. He went on to suggest that Hitchcock is responsible for such modern abominations as Michael Bay. Playing the Michael Bay card in cinema discussions is like playing the Hitler card in politics. It’s cheap, lazy, and ultimately cheapens your point regardless of what it is. He then went on an obligatory tangent about how watching Michael Bay is like getting assaulted. I agree that he is rough viewing for anyone with a passing interest in film, but can’t someone discuss the attributes of a film or filmmaker without having to evoke the names of those one deems lesser? Welcome to modern discussion. Blaming the audience of course undermines the technical craftsmanship that Tarkovsky does bring to the movie. He gave a half-assed rant against modern film by pointing out how flesh tones and teal are tweaked in modern cinematography – a practice that will instantly date them. Andrei Rublev remains timeless because there are no techniques to date it! This assumes that the washed out black and white that was so prevalent in the mid-sixties does not count as a technique or look.
He then went on to announce that Andrei Rublev may be the only movie in existence to feel as if there is no camera present at all. It is that compelling an experience! I swear I’ve heard this assertion made about five different movies at the Belcourt in the last year alone. He capped off the discussion with a quote from Tarkovsky himself:
The problem with young people is their carrying out noisy and aggressive actions not to feel lonely – and this is a sad thing – the individual must learn to be on his own as a child – for this doesn’t mean to be alone: it means not get bored with oneself which is a various dangerous symptom, almost a disease.
Not only is Tarkovsky a filmmaker, he is also an amateur psychologist (a cursory search online failed to produce proof to this effect). That night, I heard a bit of dialogue on Mad Men that instantly reminded me of this quote. A daughter tells her mother she is bored, to which her mother quips, “Only boring people get bored.” On the show, this was clearly a dismissive bullshit aphorism meant to silence someone. I wonder if Tarkovsky gave his quote as a reaction to a criticism of his movie. If so, it seems like an ugly response to suggest a critic’s point is negated by some deep psychological “disease”. To be honest, I suspect the quote is either fabricated or altered (as film history anecdotes tend to be). Regardless, the quickness to repeat the quote in introducing the movie reveals the speaker to be the kind of knee-jerk online commentator who answers differing opinions not with interest and consideration, but with character assault. It’s classier than “Fuck you and your opinions,” and better cited than the I’m-taking-the-high-road dismissal of “I respectfully disagree.”
Now to give him his due: these introductions are not easy. I’ve been to a lot of these introductions and have seen how difficult it is to lead a discussion on these films and engage the audience and not come off as something other than a raging fanboy. I certainly don’t think I could do it. Even if I were to talk about my favorite movies, I’m too nervous having private one-on-one conversations. I could never speak in front of people. But most of the discussions take place after the film – in an effort to invite discussion with the audience. Here, it took place before – killing an organized discussion. That may be for the best, as I don’t think I could have sat through another rapturous masturbatory exaltation of the movie at the expense of other filmmakers or ideas.
Now to talk about the movie itself: I have issues with Tarkovsky, as you may have ascertained. But my issues do not necessarily stem from the idea that he is too slow or boring for me to stomach, which is what everyone assumes. I’m an atheist, and I love to see that depicted with some thought in films. I’m not immediately averse to God talk in movies. That doesn’t bother me. This film, like many religious films, does criticize the church (as an institution) in its praise of faith and spirituality. What does bother me is how Tarkovsky relentlessly equates faith with a disdain for intellectualism. The speech at the end of Stalker, after all the ranting previous in the film, was flat out offensive – equating science with nihilism. With Andrei Rublev, the anti-intellectualism is more nuanced and considered. It is mostly represented by the character of Kirill, a monk who hasn’t read a book in ten years and plans never to read another. His fate is somewhat ironic considering that he ends up copying the scripture fifteen times. Early in the film, Kirill rants to Theophanes that spreading knowledge is akin to spreading sorrow. He goes on to state that ignorance is better, because it allows one to follow his heart. This is followed through at the end of the movie when a bell maker’s son, upon completion of constructing a working bell, confides in Rublev that his father had NOT passed down the secret of casting bells as the kid had led everyone to believe. In fact, he did it by following his heart and crap. This secret inspires Rublev to go back and paint “icons”. (Of course, in doing this, the young bell maker deceives everyone and takes advantage of their faith in him.) This sore point for Tarkovsky will always remain a sore point that I am unable to reconcile with. It will ultimately never enable me to fully embrace Tarkovsky.
What I do find engaging about that final moment is that Rublev is only able to return to painting after some life experience. So am I to assume that information is bad while only experience is good? I will grumble about that while moving on. I wonder how much of this comes from Tarkovsky himself, and how much is in the translation. As for his shooting style, I’m not a fan of slow motion or cutting to horses doing somersaults. These things feel too self-consciously important to me. But Tarkovsky is not one to engage the audience by keeping them guessing. He leaves them with drawn out imagery to that they may sit with their thoughts and reflect. He does not draw out moments in Andrei Rublev as he will with Solaris and Stalker, but he does keep the pace deliberate.
Regardless, most of my reservations are swayed by the glorious, beautiful camera work. Andrei Rublev is miles more beautiful than either Stalker or Solaris. The washed out black and white is luminously stark. The relentless gray skies glowing through bare tree branches. The sea of mud. The hardened faces. Cold, empty chambers and fake birds gliding over intricate battle scenes below. The movie is a pleasure to look at – particularly during the bell casting sequence in which most of the characters have shut the hell up. If Tarkovsky movies contained no dialogue and existed solely on visuals, I would love this film.
The movie is violent in parts, as it needs to be. The only moment that made me ache though, was the horse falling down the stairs. According to Wikipedia, the horse was actually injured, tortured, and killed. That moment was clearly not faked and hurt to watch.
Now a genuine question: Tarkovsky seems very humorless to me. The jester at the beginning is not especially funny (on purpose?) and is played for tragic effect. But there is one moment that I would have normally laughed at loud at. But in this audience, I feared that the film was to be taken with such reverence that laughter might be to imply a heavy-handedness in the film. During one scene, Rublev encounters pagans (“Witchcraft!”). This scene involves numerous women bouncing about naked. As Rublev approaches one, he steps too close to a campfire and his robe catches fire. This seemed like a deliberate visual gag to me, but since no one else in the theater laughed (including the speaker who introduced the movie), I wondered if I had misread the scene. Surely it’s not a deliberate attempt at subtle symbolism. Is it okay to laugh at a Tarkovsky movie?
During his introduction, the speaker claimed that Tarkovsky strips away everything that is unnecessary in his filmmaking process. This is not true. As a storyteller, he is repetitive. He lacks economy. And he hits some of his points too hard, which only stands out because he is such a master of deliberate subtlety. But the man is not about telling a story. No one should pretend he is. Tarkovsky is about creating a mood and crafting slow burning visuals (at least when his characters aren’t ranting about the evils of knowledge!). His universe is depressive. His characters are self-righteous. Andrei Rublev is a beautiful movie, and I’m glad I got to see it on the big screen. I may even sit through it again someday as there is still much to unpack from it. On a single viewing, it feels as if many interesting themes fall away at the expense of the follow-your-heart-not-your-head agenda. I need to see it again to ponder the outlying ideas. Still, I have not turned around on how I feel about Tarkovsky. His movies are both awe-inspiring and frustrating in their singularity. Now if somebody were to ask me again what I think about the movie . . . I still don’t know what to say.
The clip above is a beautiful illustration of reason and understanding in the face of the modern conversation. A mob of angry presumptuous jerks repeating ignorant, hateful assertions in an effort to intimidate someone into agreeing with them despite the fact that the mob doesn't even know what it's talking about.
I’ve said it before, but it’s true. I am on a different wavelength than everybody else. I’m not on a higher level. Hopefully not on a lower level. Just on a. . . *different* wavelength. Sometimes I have a very hard time holding a conversation with people. I’m not uneducated. I’m not overeducated. Part of the problem is that I just don’t have any conversation skills. Or I get stuck in conversations I couldn’t care less about. Mostly, however, I dislike the state of conversation these days. I hate communicating.
This pitiful state is most obvious in political debate. I almost always fall on the liberal and progressive side of issues, and the current brouhaha over Health Care is no exception. Both sides frustrate me. Every debate degenerates into sarcasm, name-calling, exaggeration, pompous hyperbole, and self-righteous disgust. This happens on both sides of the debate – and these days there only seems to exist two separate and mutually exclusive sides. If you question one aspect of an argument, you are immediately accused of being on the other side.There is no middle ground, and as a result, the important questions and truths are being lost and ignored. Everyone thinks they’re Steve Colbert. Smug, satirical, shocked at the hypocrisy of the other side.
Both liberals and conservatives seem to have adopted the “either-you’re-with-us-or-against-us” mindset. And most frustratingly of all, people seem to choose their side without understanding a damn thing about it. Everyone wants to look smart without asking any questions. Check out this clip of the Tea Baggers protesting on 9/12. None of them even know why they’re there. They just are.
The best part is the interviewer’s commenting how no one seems to understand the difference between fascism, socialism, and communism. Still, I can’t help but wonder if there really wasn’t ONE PERSON present who knew why they were there, who could actually answer some of the questions posed to them, who were actually intelligent. Are conservatives really that stupid? Surely not. Although I have yet to hear a modern conservative pundit who didn't sound like a hateful, foolish hypocrite. At the same time, what the fuck are they protesting? They’re upset that the President wants to provide Health Insurance to Americans? A few conservative pundits have said that it’s more than that, but they never explain such assertions further. It’s all racist, batshit crazy, ignorant nothing. Obama’s speech wasn’t specific enough to be filled with lies. But rather than grill him on details, people are simply calling him a liar and leaving it at that. Useless.
During the Bush Administration, there was plenty of vitriol and frustration coming from the liberals. But it didn't come from nowhere. It began with the handling of the 2000 Election. It escalated with the pandering to the lowest common denominator in building a case for war with a country that never threatened us and couldn't defend itself. (For the record, I don't think Saddam was good man, but out of all the dictators doing terrible things at that time, he was really low on the list.) There were specific points in the presented case that were regularly challenged and brushed aside of the Administration. Years later, it has come to light that much of the evidence was not just wrong, but out and out fabricated. This is the kind of dissent we need It is our duty to keep out leaders in check. We elect them (usually), and we can't just hand over all our power tot hem - ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ASK US TO! Ahem. The Administration flaunted its disregard for facts and truth and reason on a regular basis, and again pandered to hate and bigotry to win the re-election. I remain frustrated that this happened and baffled that so many defended (and continue to defend) the practices of that Administration. But the left was presenting reasoned, well-thought questions while the right countered with smirks, fear tactics, and godfucking. These are serious issues that need serious debate. And the right continually fails to provide that.
I’m trying really hard to understand the conservative side of this Health Care issue, but conservatives can’t seem to articulate anything reasonable. There are plenty of liberals who are guilty of the very same, but that side I get. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, I have actually done some research and I understand what’s being debated, what’s true and what isn’t, and why these issues are important. Someone didn’t just dictate them to me. The main issue being that Americans need Health Insurance both to be healthy and to avoid losing all their money when they get sick.I’m having difficulty seeing the evil in this.
On Facebook the other day, I got in a conversation with someone about the “lies” in Obama’s speech. I joined the conversation by pointing out that Joe Wilson was wrong in his rudely and inappropriate assertion. This other person asserted that everything else in the speech was a lie. I asked him what specifically, and the asswipe got sarcastic and provided a link while implying the link illustrated the plan is not deficit-neutral. In fact, the link suggested just the opposite. The shit didn’t even read his own link. This is the current state of conversation. Not five minutes later, I got into a conversation with someone on Twitter. I made a statement that didn’t contradict anything anyone else said – about Kanye West of all things. What kind of response did I get? Sarcasm. More sarcasm. Are people really unable to communicate without resorting to irony. (The person apologized when I expressed frustration and said that the quip was meant as a slam to Kanye. Sadly, the quip was aimed at me. Not Kanye.). I suppose it’s a defense mechanism – to keep people at a distance. I have my own defense mechanisms. At work, specifically, my conversations are taciturn and I never reveal too much about how I feel or what I think. This is mostly because I wish to avoid more sarcasm, self-righteous indignation, or trumped-up drama. Also, I’ve gotten pretty sick of talking to folks who are self-appointed know-it-alls. What happened to ordinary conversations in which people can just learn what the other person thinks and reconcile it with what they think. I’m scared of talking to people because I worry that the result will be something that completely turns me off.
Sometimes, I hate logging onto Twitter because there are so many people on there who regularly bitch and moan about how annoyed they are with every aspect of society. (Kind of what I’m doing here). I understand that people need a place to vent, but why the constant barrage of put-upon outrage. I am amazed at the unrelenting vitriolic hyperbole aimed at pop culture. Do we really need to get worked up about how terrible Kanye West is? I agree that he’s a jackass, but I don’t HATE him. Even more frustrating is the hate leveled at some performers simply because someone doesn’t like their movies. I’m not innocent of this attitude. I never want to sit through another Mel Gibson movie ever again. But why fling such hatred at people who barely register on the zeitgeist of pop culture. Is Demetri Martin really someone we need to bring down and destroy? Why can’t anybody just articulate what they don’t like about something rather than posting something broad and ugly and fishing? Case in point: one facebook friend just posted “Malice towards all.” That’s the entire post. The point?Attention, I guess. It’s his schtick. And I’m so sick of it.
Now for the really frustrating part. I know that there are people out there having decent, civil, intelligent conversations. I see it in coffee shops and bars. There are some people that seem really interesting and I would love to talk to them. But I don’t know what the hell to say.Some are clients at the place where I work. Some work at places I frequent. Is it okay to ask out someone for a drink. Even dudes? Would that make things weird. If someone seems nice, what do I say to get an in?
This week, I started my Digital Editing Class. I chatted a bit with the dude sitting next to me and the teacher. But not as much as some of the other folks in the class. I don’t know what to say to people. I really need to make some friends. I long for adult conversation. But I avoid conversation for fear of all that frustrating shit. I hate communicating with people, but I really want to. Is anyone else having this problem? No? Just me? I figured.
