Last post I was complaining I had barely done writing of any kind in the last few months, which is very true. Most of the very few lines I wrote were—and I’ll use this whole post to admit—pathetic negative whines against nothing more than a miserable movie.
I would stumble upon online reviews or notes about The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (or yes, often pathologically search for them) and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—stay shut. I would type with contempt about any praise; or I would praise the statements of those who accurately pointed at its terrible faults. And it isn’t even a movie I completely loathed having watched! There are parts of it I actually enjoyed.
Even just now, instead of posting something here or attempting to write anything of quality, I replied to a post in some blog that spoke positively of the movie. And after the tedious rush of typing and posting my scornful comment (I don’t even enjoy these moments of craze), I feel dirty.
I am conscious of how pathetic it is to spend quality time thinking—and wore: taking action—against a poor film and its soulless character. But I still do it/did it; though I hope accepting this publicly will keep me from doing it again.
Yet, the world is not only Internet (I kid not). I know that if I tragically encounter someone who happens to naively say something good about this movie, my world will have to stop its spinning and devote itself—just for a moment, considering the victim might find a way out of the situation—to detailing in a rush (already conscious that they might not be interested in hearing ) why The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is not much more than a nicely executed charade with a pitiful dialogue, terrible characters, and devoid of any statement (or rather, what is worse, having a grossly unaccomplished one).
And there! I did it again!