Monday 12/23/24
In a society where no one knows anything, there's nothing to stop/check/slow the spread of ignorance or the permissiveness and pervasiveness of expressed ignorance or for any expressed view or thought to be recognized as not ignorant because people are so ignorant that they can't even do that.
For example: I saw where someone stated that the original Nosferatu from 1922--which they'd doubtless never heard of until the past week, on account of the latest remake of the film that didn't have to happen--was nothing more than fan fiction made by amateurs, and isn't fan fiction awesome, fan fiction is as valid as real art, etc.
This is idiotic and ignorant. Because it's both, people loved this comment. Do you think anyone knows enough to know how idiotic and ignorant this comment was? Of course not.
First of all: F.W. Murnau was responsible for Nosferatu. This would be the director of Sunrise, one of the greatest films ever made. That's your amateur. As for the fan fiction: That would be, oh, I don't know, taking the Dracula character and having him be a knight in medieval times while also still being Dracula, when what really happened is the film is the gist of the Dracula story save that the word Dracula is not used for copyright reasons.
Then you have the people of legacy media, who also know nothing, which results in all of these pieces--they're the same damn piece--about this bit of Film History 101 that I just shared with you, which is like among the first things you'll learn about film history if you look into it at all. Something that's so basic that it should never be the basis of a piece. It'd be like writing a baseball history piece saying that there's a ball and a bat and they're used in the sport, the former gets thrown and you try and strike it with the latter.
And there's no cavalry that's going to ride to the rescue. There's no one who can write or who knows and who separates in those two areas from everyone else so that what they do/offer has special value. So why would you get anything from the legacy media places? And you'd pay for it? Why? You just go on social media or look up whatever on Google and you'll find whatever you want, so long as you don't want anything special.
But that's what magazine nonfiction writing is now. Because no one knows anything. Including the writers. That writer is often someone who heard about Nosferatu as recently as that poster I described above did. The difference is, one works for the legacy media venue (using because of coming from money, cronyism, nepotism). See the problem legacy media has? There is nothing to distinguish their writers from the millions and millions of people out there. They don't write better, they don't know more. So what they offer, really, is nothing, unless I'm there. Then you're offered what no one else in the world can provide or do.
I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job yesterday. Can't be having days like that. Can't even be having days like my more productive days because I need to be markedly more productive.
Did just move eight pieces. A lot of film pieces.
Someone was telling me about a friend of theirs yesterday. The friend was at family gathering for Thanksgiving of eight people, all adults. At this gathering was an eighty-five-year-old mother. The mother's son and daughter were there. This is one of those mothers--so I was told--who did a lot for her kids and had always been there for them, whatever they needed.
Anyway, it came time for the mother to go home. She lived ten miles away. And it was decided that they'd call an Uber for her rather than just have anyone drive her, and that she had an Uber account so she'd be paying for this. This wasn't some boozy party and two of the people there didn't drink at all, but no one wanted to drive this eighty-five-year-old woman. Get your ass in the Uber, grandma. That's what you got an account for--so you can be driven home by a stranger halfway through your eighth decade on Thanksgiving night.
The person telling me the story said that was awful--with which I agreed--but I could tell that they were also surprised. I said something about the discernible element of surprise in their voice, remarking that this is how people are. For the most part. They are ghastly. They are more ghastly now than ever before. They don't care about anyone but themselves, which means that they only care about one person and that person sucks.
I then told this person about my cousin from the other day. Everything is about her. But I was kind, because that's a me thing. Being kind is an important part of who I am. My offer of going out and meeting her and her daughter to help them get to the venue for the ballet so that my cousin with the MS wouldn't fall on the way over with the snow and the ice wasn't so much as met with a thank you. That's how people are.
After they were back home, my cousin told me how much her daughter loved the ballet and wants to go see The Nutcracker every year. This is a good kid who had a rough start in life, so I texted the mom a screen shot of an album cover of one of the best recordings of The Nutcracker, saying that maybe her daughter would like to listen to this--and you never know what someone might love and could become a passion or an interest; or at least that's how I think; exposure is big--and adding that it was on the streaming services. Now, it says the conductor (Mackerras) and the orchestra (London Symphony Orchestra) right on the cover. And what does my cousin do? Does she even say thank you? No. She wouldn't do that. She replied, "Where can I get this?" That's how people are. And most are worse than my cousin.
Somehow the Patriots played the Bills close. Buffalo must have decided to barely show up. If I was a Bills fan I wouldn't trust that team.
Patrick Mahomes has thrown for 300 yards in two games this season.
Why are there two NHL games in the middle of the day today?
There are audience recordings that sound like soundboards and soundboards that sound like audience recordings.
I watched Frosty and Rudolph yesterday. I had a bad Rudolph-related experience this year which I'll get into later in lighting up a bigot, something I don't want to do and have been putting off but as with all of these things, it's a'comin' and it gets done because it has to be done.
Someone was inquiring about my diet yesterday and whether I really hadn't had a single slice of pizza since March. I ate a lot of pizza and then I ate none. It really was as simple as that. On a single day, I decided no more pizza, bread, red meat or pork, chips, hot chocolate. Done. I don't like the idea of moderation. It creates undue stress for me and I don't get any benefits. That is, I don't want to sit there and think, "Am I doing this in moderation or not?" or "Would having this push me over the line," and if something isn't good for me and I read about how it is not good for me, I like knowing I have the full benefits of not having that thing at all, rather than trying to weigh and measure and think, "Well, you have this much of it only, so it's probably mostly okay but not totally good." Knowing beats guessing or estimating for me. I'd rather know than figure.
For me, that's not worth it. I do or don't. That's usually how I am in all things. I don't a little bit do, if that makes sense. This person was like, "I know you eat a lot of kale." I do. Kale gets a bad reputation. It's really okay. Kale is better, I think, than lettuce, taste-wise--and it has more nutritional value--but lettuce doesn't have the same negative reputation. There isn't much to lettuce, is there? I never have lettuce. It's kale, spinach, or arugula, but kale probably seventy percent of the time.
Was at CVS yesterday afternoon and all of the Christmas candy was on sale. Candy canes, chocolate Santas, those bell-shaped Reese's treats. And as nice as it'd be to have some candy for Christmas, I didn't get anything as per the above.
Watched some of The Holly and the Ivy, a favorite, quiet Christmas film which too few people know (as with the carol of the same name) and part of Holiday Affair. What a performance by Mitchum--he just takes that thing by the balls. You don't often see that approach to a Christmas movie.
I think there's a special kind of person who loves Holiday Affair. It's a Christmas movie for those who know Christmas can be hard, who might be on their own or remembering being on their own. It's a plucky, hearty picture with a dirty nose. The Christmas movie equivalent of a tiny tree in the corner of the apartment that you put there just for you because you wanted to have something. It was forgotten for decades. Didn't air much.
And then--sort of like It Happened on 5th Avenue--it had this resurgence and now it airs on TCM several times during the Christmas season. It's a survivor of a Christmas film. Also: Is there a movie in which two people who are not even together manage to break up more? I think I'll include my essay about the film in my book of film writings.
"Even among misfits you're misfits" is an unintentionally savage line from Yukon Cornelius that he sort of blunders into/blurts out, but it sums up a feeling or a fear quite well. Rudolph is perfect. For a long time I regarded it as a holiday special that I happened to love, but it really is quite artful. It's also skillfully paced.
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