Hypothesis: A big reason we love books, movies, and recorded music is that they offer to our lower brains a passable simulacrum of company. Inspiring, beautiful, mind-expanding they can be. But they are, at their root, an inferior substitute for basic emotional and relational goods that come from real, live, human company…
…writes the man whose wife of twenty years hasn’t been home in a week and is currently incommunicado on a sailboat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
Just watched: The Last Stop In Yuma County (2023) written and directed by Francis Gallupi. Two and a half time shorter than Greed (1924) and three times as fun, with nods to the Coen brothers and Tarantino, in that order. Lots of craftsmanship to admire. Worthwhile, but only as a brain break.
A remarkable exchange between characters in Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning:
Ethan Hunt: I swear your life will always matter more to me than my own.
Grace: You don’t even know me.
Ethan Hunt: What difference does that make?
I hypothesize that the reason folks like me are OK with watching movie violence and less OK with watching movie sex is that the latter arouses feelings and potentially even action, while the former does not.
The scary part wiggled your head a little.
— Sullivan, after having watched portions of How to Train Your Dragon at a family friend’s house 🍿