Saturday, July 10, 2004

the bloody sportsman rant

Where will you be The Day After Tomorrow, queried the posters. I avoided the mass question and went on with the business of counting off days left in the week. Now, at last, cornered by the movie, I watched it.

The initial mayhem, people running creeped me out. Too much like being asleep. Dreams of being stuck in a barren/frozen world, doomed to fight to live in an empty world are common and recurring scenarios in my dreams. Lately its like someone has plugged in an audio/video out plug into my brain as I sleep to get the dreams that creep me out onto the big screen. 28 days later, for example. I recall the dream with a smaller, less macro scale deserted/barren land, this time with the grab bag entry of zombies thrown in. Inevitably, someone I know turns into one, then another, then another. All infected. All gone. Which is why I somehow enjoy them, I suspect. My long nurtured paranoia that eventually I will be alone is affirmed, so despite the creepy undead crawling about and the lack of much hope, it's an exciting lifestyle.

Back to being creeped out. Day after Tomorrow may cause some to moan and bitch about bad CGI wolves, which is fair, or about the moral messages or cop-out ending, but I, with my long standing bad opinion of mankind as a species, find it inevitable, and sadly, poetic justice. Shooting animals and hanging their exteriors in your lounge as a testament to your superiority over them is going to come back and bite you on the ass... hard. We act like overeducated brats left in our little slice of the playground. All the beauty man has ever created weighted against the first hunter's first kill 'for sport' is a moot point. We deserve to live our our personal death fantasies as one. We deserve to have the oxygen swooshed out of the atmosphere through one little hole created by hairdryers. We deserve to write like fish do just before we hold them up and smile for the camera. We deserve to destroy ourselves.

Misha at Saturday, July 10, 2004

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