I allowed myself to get wrapped up in the plot of Salvation without applying any critical rigor to the performances, and now that well know speculative futurist actors are involved in the coming denouement, the intensity of the dystopian aspect wanes: at first, I thought the screen writers guild were going to spin an ironic manipulation of the deep state conspiracies made so prevalent in the digital age-- and to clear something up, taking the JFK, RFK, and MLK assassinations in sequence, it is difficult not to see these killings as a low grade coup. It is the reasoning behind it which is elusive, but fortunately, I do not have the energy to delve into bootlegger class graft and a America's preeminent, partially fraudulent, minority saint. Salvation comes off as a pre-processed microwaveable dinner. Finnigan, at least initially, was taxed with the most complex delivery, but this has since radiated outward among the ensemble. Do I appreciate Cabrera, Rowe and Dale?
I haven't penetrated that deeply, while the pacing ensures mainly irrelevant plaudits, like a gay Secretary of State on the run. I missed the Russian Federation on "alert" episode, but caught enough in play back to piece together the subsequent stand down. What interests me is the antecedents, the analogue era posited doom of The Satan Bug, where Dana Andrews, the wooden war era bean counter, was perfectly cast, and The Andromeda Strain, which is one of my favorite science fiction films of all time, precisely due to its rigorous realism. The Andromeda Strain doesn't condescend to its audience, uses real science, and if it didn't predict AIDS paranoia in the black community, it certainly anticipated the fact that MRSA will one day make the achievements of western medicine insignificant, because it will wipe us out, centralized hospital model or the strategic mobility of doctors without borders notwithstanding. Uber-wealth will of course hang on, as it always does, but we are too many not to hit an alarming new mortality rate. I am not faulting any system or ideology, just acknowledging reality. Collectivism and self interest, in our species, never quite balances without calamity.
The only tranquil moments I had under Presby's management-- which, for those of you who do not know, has been my life long rental agent, was when I was still matriculated as a student. In those days, I did not believe that I was going to undergo a lifetime of conflict, persecution, but now, having gone through mortal combat, biology is picking up where the paradigm left off, and I am beginning to feel grim. Poetry, non-fiction, and half-glazed deadlines aren't enough for me, and I know the institutional hell I will face, unlike you. Work, stop complaining. I know, but I cannot be amicable burning my cell phone battery begging for legal representation feeling like this, my bad hip like embossed root canal. I printed up the forms I need to file with the Human Relations Commission, but I am not so sanguine, whether Earle's title with them is now more honorary than active. Kimmy hunted around the trash bag, looking for her prize. It is not pleasant, using broken reachers to carefully dispose of these little templates. Remarkable, from mice came the very carnivores who dispense of them like gumballs. Crichton's death did have a quality of suddenness. Unfortunate, because his rebuttals had the force to make progressives back down.
No comments:
Post a Comment