If you’re in Boston this weekend for whatever reason, particularly around Boylston St, the Boston Public Library, Copley Square, and the Hynes Convention Center…
PLEASE be well behaved and not delinquent/inebriated/acting a fool
The Marathon is on Monday and everyone in town is anxious, on edge, and ready to jump at the slightest hint of trouble. There’s already been a case of one dude who was arrested for a hoax threat this Tuesday. Be patient when it comes to dealing with crowd control and police direction, and for the love of god DON’T accidentally leave your bag sitting somewhere, even by accident. This town has approximately ZERO sense of humor right now.
if you don’t prove your worth (and not to society at large, but specifically to the people who already have the money), you’ll literally fucking die. this is considered totally normal and not at all evidence that the system is evil
I can’t decide where to focus my frustration, so I guess I will inevitably turn it upon myself for thinking that I could actually be free and honest and still expect guys to not think I am some sort of dumb gross weirdo
Not to say that John Green’s work isn’t probably loaded with problematic content, I’m just too suspicious of dogpiling on media that has a high percentage of young women as its consumers to get into the whole point-and-laugh game.
I know little children are only curious and have no malice in their hearts when they ask me “are you a boy or a girl?” but I’m honestly getting a little tired of having to do the whole explanation of why I am a girl even though I apparently don’t look enough like one for it to be immediately obvious. It only makes me wonder what kind of gender representations they’re being exposed to if the sight of me with short hair, no makeup, and neutral apparel apparently makes them confused enough to ask.
Anyways, my new answer is to just bug out my eyes and say “I AM A SPACE ALIEN!!!!” and they’re usually amused enough to forget the issue.
I’ve never been super good at reading subtle social cues, but ever since I have stopped caring about policing myself for excessive weirdness and just decided to act as enthusiastic about shit as I want, when I talk to men I have not met before, they have gotten this look in their eyes that seems to me like something between confusion and fear.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it a little.
Columbia Pictures wanted Spielberg to make a sequel to Close Encounters, which he was against, but since he didn’t want a sequel to be made without him like what happened with Jaws, he started banging out a script for a sci-fi horror film with scarier aliens terrorizing a rural farming family. But at the same time as Spielberg was developing the concept, he was also working on Raiders of the Lost Ark, and he was so drained by all the pulp action and Nazi-killing, that he developed a side-plot from the horror flick about a lone benevolent alien befriending the family’s autistic son, and eventually turned the film entirely around in tone, into what we now know as E.T. the Extraterrestrial. Columbia Pictures was displeased by the shift to a “a wimpy Walt Disney movie”, and it was sold off to Universal for the price of $1 million in recouped development fees, and and 5% of the film’s eventual net profit.
This is a case study in why production control of cinema needs to go back to the actual filmmakers, instead of the studio heads.
One thing that’s a sure sign of how dated Close Encounters of the Third Kind is, is the way the military operation preparing for the Extraterrestrial meeting is handled with stuffy, yet well meaning defensive attempts at secrecy.
If the movie were made today, the Invitees who got the psychic message to come to the landing site wouldn’t have been dosed with sleeping gas to keep them out of the way, they just would have been straight up killed.
I read in an interview somewhere that Spielberg said if he was making Close Encounters of the Third Kind today, he wouldn’t have ended it with Richard Dreyfuss’s character getting on the Mother Ship and leaving the earth and his family behind, now that he’s experienced life from the standpoint as a husband and father, as well as a director. I’m glad he didn’t, because frankly, that destroys the entire point of Dreyfuss’s narrative: he had an experience which caused his family to abandon him because they believed he was losing his mind. I don’t fault them for that, because in a situation like that, a wife and mother has an obligation to protect her family’s safety, and she just didn’t know what the hell was happening to her husband. But the point remains that when Dreyfuss’s character ended up losing everything he knew in life because of what happened to him, so it was setting him on the road to leaving it all behind in the conclusion. It’s very much a spiritual film in that sense.
This is why artistic revisionism can be such a dangerous thing: sometimes a work is very much a product of a precise time and place in a creator’s life, and to attempt to change it at a later point can lead to a complete change of nature.
Watching Close Encounters makes me really sad I will never see/meet aliens, but at the same time, that’s probably for the best, because if there’s one thing that movie does well, it’s show how dealing with the knowledge of that experience can COMPLETELY DESTROY YOUR LIFE