or, The Pink Princess of Darkness
We are currently oozing a squid ink of gloom and paranoia.
When IE crashed as I struggled to create something entertaining out of my suffering, I saw this as a clear omen that my efforts were misguided. Watching me slip on the banana peel of my current sitch won't rise above, say, Benny Hill in entertainment value.
May I take this moment, though, to hiss and fume about this movie?
Not about this movie in particular, which of course I have not seen, and which I would rather chew my own leg off than see.
No, what is literally at this moment setting my teeth on edge (we can talk about bruxism more generally in another post, on another day) is my rising horror at the entertainment value placed on narratives of children coming to grave harm. Oh what fun! When I have a moment of leisure, when I manage to break away from my weary labors and duties, what could revive my spirit more than the spectacle of a k*dnapped child?
Maybe someone could clue me in here. What in the crying f*ck is wrong with us as a culture that these topics are intended to be the fodder of amusement?
The flipside of the maudlin is hatred and aggression. For every Anne Geddes image of a baby in a bunnysuit, we have an instance of this culture's morbid fascination of children r*ped, abd*cted, m*rdered. This is not the usual blog material for me, but the fact is, I'm a fearful kind of person. It's all I can do to keep at bay my compulsive imagination of Bad Things. Whenever I am confronted with trailers or promos or yaddayadda in this 'theme' of 'entertainment,' I start wracking my brain for places to hide.
[asterisks sprinkled in liberally to prevent me from having to witness firsthand the horrible things that some people like to Google]
tune in next time for something more in the realm of Sweetness 'n' Light.
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