I’ve noticed that it’s become de rigueur to over-criticize everything (other than personal politics, mandates, foreign governments, or presidents not named Trump), particularly when it comes to the Sopranos prequel. People are so desperate to appear savvy and informed that they will over-analyze things, thereby nullifying the joy of discovery. You talk yourself into hating, in the futile hopes of besting the haters. You’re afraid to love something that someone else might hate.
To prove my point, I’m going to stick thoughts into your head that will make you hate your favorite things. Let’s start with The Sopranos!
If it were up to me, this entire website would be nothing but pictures of womens’ tits. Oh, except in the sidebar, there’d be a link to all the reviews I’ve written about Transformers toys. If it were up to me.
Wait a second… it is up to me. It’s my site. So why don’t I?
Good question. I could probably make a tidy income doing it. So why not?
I don’t know why people are sad about the Great Deathwave of 2016. It’s a remarkable opportunity to make a stranger’s life all about yourself.
Muhammad Ali, The Greatest, 1942-2016. A multifarious and complex personality that’s tough to categorize (especially for a pugilist), not a prop for your opinions.
When a celebrity dies, you now own them. You can take the life’s work of someone you never encountered and reduce it to a personal inspiration. You can interpret their efforts as empowerment for your own agendas. Oh, and you can cherry-pick the qualities of their persona that you agree with, and ignore everything else. A corpse will never call your bluff. Continue reading →
Here is a fine example of “apology culture”; I’m about to write an article about a Mel Gibson movie, and unless I want the average reader to think I’m misogynist, racist, or anti-Semitic, I have to open by addressing Gibson’s reputation outside of film.
You know what? I don’t care what people think. I’m not here to signal virtue. I’m going to discuss the Mel Gibson film Apocalypto based upon its own merits, which are considerable. Had Gibson never acted and spoke as he did, according to the police reports and gossip vultures, I’d be talking about an Oscar winner for Best Picture. Apocalypto is the kind of film John Boorman used to make. See it if you’re skeptical. If you have acquaintances who might look askance at you for enjoying the work of Mel Gibson, go elsewhere. Continue reading →
In the media, context means fame, misfortune, or both.
By 2017, I will have resided in Atlanta, capitol and most populous city of Georgia, for fifteen years. Over 50% of our residents are black. It’s not a part of the country you’d live in if you dislike black people. And as a white person, I’ve been fortunate enough to interact with and observe black people on a daily basis, and compare it with how they are represented in the media and online.
I racked my white brain, the same kind of brain that built bridges and put men on the moon, to get a handle on the disparity I saw. I called upon my ancestry as an Italian immigrant to help me understand the terrible sins at the heart of it. I now know why anyone who identifies as black would be mad. Continue reading →