Say It Ain't Stole

pococurante (po-ko-koo-RAN-tee, -kyoo-) adjective

Indifferent, apathetic, nonchalant.

The thing that burns most about the violation of home burglary rests on the very fact that people, that fellow humans, carry out the action. No one can blame stolen laptops on javelinas or raccoons, and no monkey pries open a window in search of digital cameras. People commit crimes. People steal from people. And yes, surely the animal kingdom houses a similar level of opportunistic creatures that pillage from others, but the major difference between animals and humans--here comes the mighty generalization--lies on the balance of instinct and choice. Although every animal and every person engage in distinct, individual lives, their biological predispositions entitle them to a varying slate of survival choices. A person's history may point to certain options, but, ultimately, the person chooses their direction, chooses how they want to continue living.

A person chooses to distribute additional acts of human suffering.

It's Hip To Be Aware...pretentiously

pertinacious (pur-tin-AY-shuhs) adjective 1. Holding resolutely to a purpose, belief, or opinion. 2. Stubbornly unyielding.

There's something funny about someone choosing to use "pertinacious" in a sentence and then having to define it when questioned, as though they're purposefully defending both their word choice and their character. Like when a hipster abbreviates the name of an unknown band hoping you'll then ask, "Who?"

"Lost Sock Monkies."

"Oh."

"They're like Bloc Party. Only, you know, good."

"I like Bloc Party."

"Their E.P. was okay."

Hipsters: Always Justified. Makes you wonder what would happen if Pitchfork reviewed food and not music, whether hipsters everywhere would shun pizza.

Scene Is Believing

slaver (SLAV-vuhr, SLAY-vuhr) verb tr., intr. 1. To slobber or drool; to smear with saliva.

I recently read the Onion AV Club interview with Terry Gilliam, a director that consistently chooses challenging films and tends to produce, in my opinion, movies with incredible visuals. Anyway, during the interview he muses about the state of television and film, comparing the image-driven genres to radio. The link to both story-telling methods, he alludes, is imagination (or, in terms of his critique, lack thereof). While imagination and radio seem obviously connected, imagination and film seem connected by mere suggestion, akin to the difference between reading a novel and then watching its "equivalent" on screen. Gilliam contends that the determining factor for a film's success directly relates to the degree the audience incorporates imagination into the production.

This high regard for engaging imaginations struck me as quite noble--the amount of money and judgement implicit in the movie-making process could easily squash one's creative perspective. Furthermore, Gilliam's comments reminded me of my own goals as a creative person and, I suppose, the most fundamental rule of artistic creation: show, don't tell. TV's Grey's Anatomy and Lost come to mind as immediate culprits of daily entertainment no-nos, constantly soundtracking every tear, every chase, and every quirky little moment of comedic relief. When these shows leave the characters alone in their environment and pursue each shot with intent to capture the scene and not the feeling, they succeed.