Wednesday, 10 November 2021
WHY is Everyone Ashamed of This Shit?
Escape
Tuesday, 9 November 2021
Look Like
Imagine A Cave
where those inside never see
The Outside World.
Instead, they see
shadows of that world
Projected on The Cave Wall.
[MONKEY CHATTERING.]
The World They See
in The Shadows is not
The Real World.
Three, two, one, liftoff.
But it's Real to Them.
If you were to show Them
The World as it actually is,
They would reject it as incomprehensible.
Now what if, instead of being in A Cave, you were out in The World,
except you couldn't see it.
[OVERLAPPING VOICES ON PHONE.]
Because You weren't Looking.
[PHONES CHIMING.]
Because You Trusted that The World You Saw through The Prism was The Real World.
[CLUCKING.]
[CAMERA CLICKS.]
[TYPING.]
[PHONE CHIMES.]
[TYPING.]
But there's A Difference.
[PHONE CHIMES.]
You see, unlike
The Allegory of The Cave,
where The People are Real
and The Shadows are false, here,
Other People are The Shadows —
Their Faces.
Their Lives.
This is The Delusion
of The Narcissist,
who believes that
They alone are Real.
- [PHONE CHIMING.]
- [TYPING.]
[PHONE CHIMES.]
Their feelings are the only feelings that matter because Other People are just Shadows,
and Shadows Don't Feel.
Because They're
Not Real.
[HORN HONKS.]
But what if everyone
lived in caves?
[LAPTOP CHIMING.]
Then no one would be Real.
Not even you.
Unless one day you woke up
and left The Cave.
How strange The World would look
after a lifetime of staring at Shadows.
[TYPING, PHONES CHIMING.]
[PHONE CHIMES.]
[THUNDER CRACKS.]
[THUNDER RUMBLING.]
“We end the Golden Age as it began, with Superman—one of the last survivors of the initial brief expansion and rapid contraction of the DC universe. It had been too much too soon for the superheroes, but although many of them would lie dormant for decades, no potential trademark truly dies. The superheroes, like cockroaches or Terminators, are impossible to kill. But in 1954 a sinister scientist straight from the pages of the comics tried to wipe them all out and came close to succeeding.
As the lights went out on the Golden Age, characters such as Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman, who’d achieved a wider recognition thanks to serials and merchandising, survived the cull. Because of their status as backup strips in Adventure Comics, second stringers like Green Arrow and Aquaman weathered the storm—perhaps undeservedly—but the survivors did not always flourish.
For instance, a popular TV series (1953’s The Adventures of Superman) had cemented Superman’s status as an American icon, but budgetary restrictions meant that its star, the likeable but ultimately troubled George Reeves, was rarely seen in the air. At best, he might jump in through a window at an angle that suggested methods of entry other than flight, possibly involving trampolines. The stories revolved around low-level criminal activity in Metropolis and ended when Superman burst through another flimsy wall to apprehend another gang of bank robbers or spies. Bullets would bounce from his monochrome chest (the series was shot and transmitted before color TV, so Reeves’s costume was actually rendered in grayscale, not red and blue, which wouldn’t have contrasted so well in black and white.)
Reeves, at nearly forty, was a patrician Superman with a touch of gray around the temples and a physique that suggested middle-aged spread rather than six-pack, but he fit the mold of the fifties establishment figure: fatherly, conservative, and trustworthy. The problem with Superman was more obvious in the comic books. By aping the kitchen-sink scale of the Reeves show, Superman’s writers and artists squandered his epic potential on a parade of gangsters, pranksters, and thieves. The character born in a futurist blaze of color and motion had washed up on a black-and-white stage set, grounded by the turgid rules of a real world that kept his wings clipped and his rebel spirit chained. Superman was now locked into a death trap more devious than anything Lex Luthor could have devised. Here was Superman—even Superman—tamed and domesticated in a world where the ceiling, not the sky, was the limit.
Monday, 8 November 2021
Set The Controls for The Heart of The Sun
SHEM:
It's all right.
(CONTINUES SOBBING)
(SHEM SHUSHING)
(SHATTERS)
SHEM:
Hide your eyes, Japheth.
NOAH:
Ham?
SHEM:
He's here.
(SOBBING)
NOAH (SOBBING) :
You don't have to go.
I don't belong Here.
For what it's worth,
I'm glad that it begins again with you.
Maybe we'll learn to be kind.
HERMIONE GRANGER :
Will he come back?
NOAH'S WIFE :
Some things cannot be unbroken.
NOAH'S WIFE :
I have to know...
Why did you spare them?
NOAH :
I looked down at those two little girls, and all I had in my heart was love.
NOAH'S WIFE :
Then why are you alone, Noah?
Why are you separated
from Your Family?
NOAH :
Because I failed Him.
And I failed all of YOU.
NOAH'S WIFE :
Did you?
He chose you for A REASON, Noah.
He showed you The Wickedness of Man and knew you would not look away.
But then you saw Goodness, too.
The Choice was put in Your hands because He put it there.
He asked you to decide
If We were Worth Saving.
And you chose Mercy.
You chose Love.
He has given Us
A Second Chance.
Be A Father.
Be A Grandfather.
Help Us to Do Better this time.
Help us Start Again.
(SNIFFLES)
(SOBBING)
(NAAMEH SIGHS)
(LAUGHS)
NOAH :
The Creator,
made Adam in His Image,
and placed The World in His Care.
That Birthright,
was passed down to Us.
To My Father, then to Me,
and to My Sons,
Shem, Japheth, and Ham.
That Birthright
is now passed to you,
Our Grandchildren.
This will be Your Work,
and Your Responsibility.
So I Say to You --
Be Fruitful and Multiply,
and Replenish The Earth.
Child Like
Get UP! MOVE IT, Morrison! On Your FEET, Soldier!
It’s not The Gun,