Self-reverential

So I was in New York City on Christmas Eve (yes, I managed to not only bring that into this one-sided conversation, but started off with that.  Deal with it) when my entire definition of “personal space” came crashing down around me.  A man was actually annoyed when I bumped into his extended appendage aka his selfie stick.  Yes that abominable contraption that enables one to freely engage in base narcissism against a variety of backdrops.  Few years down the line, the question “What’s your background?” will invite a whole new answer.  It does not augur well for society that men and women are content to just leave their gaping face as an imprint upon society.  A selfie must not be a substitute for impact.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love photos.  Especially those that are not contaminated by my presence.  Hell, I genuinely wish I had been in New York City on New Year’s Eve just so I could caption my album “Naya Saal, Naya York.  Photos have been a documentation of society. In the case of the selfie however, the true documentation of the breakdown in society lies in the moments between the selfie arm or stick being extended and the photo being clicked.  The variety of weird faces that people make before settling on one.  This is one instance where the “Making of” featurette is more interesting and valuable than the final movie.  And of course, like any abomination created by the new age millennials, hypocrisy is an integral part of it.  People mock and laugh at the selfie stances and poses of others, seconds before sucking in cheeks and puckering lips to initiate their own “masterpiece”.

It reflects a larger failure of a self-obsessed and self-centered generation.  The more we focus on the individual, the more we crumble as a society.  We stay apart in everything else and mostly come together in moments of cruelty.  The mass uprisings and coming together in support of something are but mere flashes in the pan.

It also speaks to the larger insecurity of having to document one’s own life and journey.  It reflects the deep rooted insecurities we have of our place in the world, our path in life and the impact we will leave in this world.  The selfie is just a natural progression from opinionated blogs and essays (yes, yes.  I sense the irony) that have their say and clutter up space without having any real benefit.  The selfie stick, is a barrel.  The barrel of a gun.  A gun that society has squarely aimed at itself.  We are well on our way to selfie remotes and perhaps even selfie drones.  Ironic that in spite of all the images we take of ourselves, we fail to truly take a good hard look at ourselves.  And our duck faces.  We are literally screwing ourselves over with this.  To wit: “Kya kar raha hai, bhai?”  “Selfie le raha hoon.”  “Selfie bole toh? Hindi mein matlab?”  “Bole toh, KHUKDI le raha hoon.”

Touching upon Feelings, Touchy-Feely Style

It’s good to be in touch with your sensitive side they say.  But that often gets confused with being touchy and sensitive.  Being in touch with your feelings is one thing.  But touching upon a feeling or feeling a touch for your feeling (stay with me, now) and fumbling around it like a blind man, presuming to know it based on what tiny glimpse we have or what edge we pass our fingers through can lead to mistaking them. 

Our feelings are not really our feelings but others’ opinion of our feelings.  The information age is also the mis-information age.  And we are unable to hide from it.  Information consists of facts.  Mis-information of opinions.  Nothing is reported opinion free or tinged with subjectivism.  What we feel, how we feel, when should we feel and how to categorize and box them is based on what we see and are told around us.  Every act is labeled by someone already.  And as such, we tend to use those labels whether they be right or wrong.  So infatuation combined with loneliness becomes love, practicality becomes cowardice.

It’s like with music, books and movies.  We tend to lean with the majority reviews.  Hating what we would’ve objectively liked, even if as a guilty pleasure and liking what we did not enjoy, or understand, or both (*cough..Hunger Games, Inheritance of Loss, rap music…cough*).  And so it goes with our feelings and emotions.  We tend to box them into categories described by others.  And we tend to suppress or embrace them accordingly.

So how about this for a resolution.  Not just to be in touch with our sensitivity.  But to not be affected by the sensitivity of the touchiness ascribed by others while being sensible in sensing the depths and touchpoints of our true emotions.  Or something to that effect. 

Interstellar Review: Space Tripping, Nolan style

So this is not going to be a conventional review.  I am going to be raging against a lot of other Interstellar review, and against the Marvel film franchise.  I am going to abuse my position as a late entrant reviewer to be a little non-objective here.

Little disclaimer:  I am more of a DC Comics guy, and all the Marvel characters that I do like, are either not with Marvel Studios, or they aren’t doing much with them.

But first let’s talk about Interstellar.  The trippy intellectual movie by Chris Nolan.  Trippy in some of its visuals and its dialogues.  In fact, I dare imagine, it would be a great movie to watch when high.  The discussions and arguments about the theories explored in the movie would play out much more interestingly if held among “stimulated” individuals.  But us, on our normal plane of thought and existence, we need to work for it. Nolan aims for something unique, mixing sci-fi visuals juxtaposed with high concept theories that make for some compelling arguments while stopping just short of proselytizing.

A lot of the reviews out there have been unfair to this movie.  Some overhyped the IMAX aspect during the prerelease and were disappointed when the movie failed to live up to their internal expectations.  They probably expected another bombastic, sci-fi adventure featuring a cowboy anti-hero and possibly lasers.  Lots of lasers.  Or perhaps they expected the high-concept aspect to be tempered and dumbed down into something as simple as time-travel or parallel dimensions.

The film’s third act conflict, is a human one, fitting in retrospect considering the earlier dialogue between McConnaughey’s Cooper and Hathaway’s Brand about the lack of evil to fear on their upcoming adventure.  Evil is essentially a trait unique to human nature.

But back to the expressed disappointment.  This is where I hate Marvel.  They have spoilt the movie going experience with their “Big, Inter-Connected Plan”.  The constant gratification provided to fanboys.  We need to go in knowing everything.  Who is Ultron? Does Hawkeye die?  Is Loki still in play? Will Star Lord throw down with Cap? 

You see it in the fanboy articles raving about every step, wink, nudge thrown at them by the Marvel machine.  They who turned on Christopher Nolan, for an ALLEGED remark made about Marvel post credit hooks.

We hate surprises now.  In an age where the entire final act is practically given away in the trailers, we tend to fill in the gaps when information is withheld and blame the movie for being unable to manage our expectations.

Interstellar is certainly not about gratification.  It is about making you think.  People will disagree with the conclusions drawn in the movie perhaps.  But that’s good.  Debate is good.  But I fear, the debate aspect will be skipped and we will move onto the generic humor and ridicule that bloggers are so prone to.

In my view, Interstellar aims really high.  It sets a bar and asks us to join it up there.  If you do feel disappointed, chances are you bought a Salman Rushdie novel expecting a Chetan Bhagat level of gratification.  Keep aiming Mr. Nolan.  I, for one, am with you.

P.S.

Marvel, with their phases extending right into the next millennium certainly has no plan to go gently into the good night.  Christopher Nolan, meanwhile, will be exploring his next unique endeavor, trying to outdo himself and setting expectations, not managing them.

Nerd-i-Gras

Things that have cult following, and rabid fanatic fan base always has pratfalls.  Take cult literature, sci-fi, graphic novels or movies for instance.  The genre ones that were deemed good, seem to keep getting better and better in retrospect, especially on a comparative basis, but even as standalone. 

But to become panned and be rated among the worst over time, you need not be just bad.  you could be average, fair, decent or even fairly good.  But that just will not cut it.  Over a period of time, that one mildly weak link, or decent attempt at entertainment could well end up becoming the worst thing to happen to geeks/nerds/fans across the world, the pox on an otherwise worshiped franchise etc. etc.

Here is my theory:  Average common, non-obsessed, sane, non-dysfunctional people with no developmental disorders, real jobs, who aren't on major medication view, review and give their opinion of what is a normal source of temporary entertainment, and their view of that particular form (book, movie, comic) as such: something to pass the time, a few hours with.

This is then built upon by obsessed fans whose world centres around that and that thing alone.  They will dissect the offering, then put the individual components under an electron microscope, before sending the resultant anomalies for further testing at STAR labs.  And of course, as geek technology advances, more and more anomalies come to light.  And something decent becomes hated over time.  Case in point: Star Wars prequels, the last Indiana Jones movie (don't believe me, check out their original Metacritic and RT ratings).

My point is - never have too many specialists.  Specialists are obsessive.  And they take the fun out of things.

Binge - Chandler Binge

So its the age of binges now.  We binge eat, binge read and binge watch.  Compartmentalization is the key, you say?  Sadly, that is a word that only exists in the vocabulary of Indian Railways, Airlines cabin crews and HR seminars and expositions discussing organizational structure.  But i digress, which is a cardinal sin in binging.  Carry on, follow through.  Never, ever, ever digress.

We overwork, we over think, we more often than not tend to over eat (thank you, expesnive buffets and MBA classes teaching value for money concepts).  Stands to reason we would extend the same courtesy to our poor beleaguered recreational outlets.

Sure we can put fancy titles on things - longform, limited anthology release and what not (fancy titles always makes things better.  If I was Graphical Data Representation Expert, Niche Service Development Consultant, Purveyor of all things Analytics and Connoisseur of all things Caffeine, Instead of Asst. Manager - (random boring tag), I would be much happier).

It probably all started when people started using disposable stuff.  That's probably when the use and throw mentality set in.  I blame this all on the disposable camera trend.  We now lean on things, till they break, till they disgust us or we grow sick of them.  And then we move on to the next.  Wanna know the scary part?  We do that to people too, now.  Yep, Assistant Managers come in two variants.  The classic one and the Disposable one.