Really. I’m not kidding. Do not hit play unless you want to see lots of blood.
It’s not like this level of gore is new to the indie film scene. Crazy flying bucket-fulls of blood have been the easiest way for indie films to stand out. Unfortunately, since they all do it (and since Tarantino’s big-budget indie-style stuff of late) it’s becoming a bit of a bit of a cliché.
With the heart of new media being word-of-mouth, expect this movie to make some money. Just don’t be deceived into thinking that it’s unusually creative or has any particular merit as art. I’m not saying you won’t enjoy it, mind, just that “Shoot ‘Em Up” pretty much put the nail in the coffin of the “violence is fun” genre.
The only room left in the genre is for the true innovators. For instance, I give you “Battle Royale“.
7th graders forced to kill one another for the sake of cultural balance isn’t exactly for the timid either, but at least the trailer sells the story. You get an interesting choice with Battle Royale: either enjoy it for its sheer mayhem and “wrongness”, or enjoy it for the profound statements it makes about society and the individual. The difference is that good art gives you the choice, and says more about the people watching it than it does about anything else.
Why am I posting a bunch of potentially offensive videos from a guy making political statements I don’t completely agree with and I’m not interested in discussing?
Sean Bedlam is what new media is all about.
He does two extremely taboo things in his videos: he swears (taboo because science has shown that some sounds emitted by human vocal chords, called “swears”, hurt people somehow), and he states a strong political opinion (taboo because, obviously, you shouldn’t… uh… opine…).
Let’s face it: we’ve allowed censorship to run amok in the mainstream media. When I can turn on the TV any day of the week and watch hours of back-to-back beatings and murder on CSI but we’re still talking about Janet Jackson’s 2004 Superbowl nipple, we have a problem. I’m not saying I’m a plug-my-fingers-in-my-ears-and-chant-”censorship is wrong” kind of guy, but when we ban sex (something we all like in our lives) from TV, but are cool with broadcasting violence (which we really DON’T want in our lives) perhaps we all could use a big kung-fu kick to our sensibilities. People haven’t felt like they can say what’s on their minds for ages.
(Oh, and yes I censor comments on my blog whenever they tick me off. Yeah, ironic, I’m a hypocrite, get over it.)
Looking back through the past bunch of decades we’ve dealt with this problem in a variety of interesting ways. In the 60′s people actively rejected social norms and called it “being a hippie”. By the 80′s people saw that wasn’t necessarily a long-term plan for them and instead tried to buy into the dream that television was selling them. Somehow this resulted in massive commercialization and shows with detectives that drove sportscars but still couldn’t afford a decent razor. This was followed by the 90′s, Generation X, and a bunch of people with an uneasy feeling that while everything probably made sense, they weren’t in on the joke.
Now we have the new media. Blogs, podcasts, message boards, virtual worlds, and yes, free video for all. Sean’s videos are a great example of what happens when the media is finally divorced of “institution”. People say what’s on their minds, at long last, and we’ve discovered that things don’t make sense and never did.
So, now what? Are we any less neurotic? Are we any more free? Has any of this changed a damn thing?
My gut tells me that while it’s all fascinating, the change in Who We Are (in big-concept caps) hasn’t happened quite yet. Let’s give it another decade. Even with all of the analytical tools and instant delivery of ideas across the globe that we have at our disposal, only hindsight remains 20/20.
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Oh, and about what Sean’s actually said in these clips… hell, it would take about four dozen blog posts to cover it. I gotta go do some stuff though… so… you write ‘em.
Sometimes there’s a beauty in roughly-hewn work. It’s raw. The imperfection makes it pure. The more regrettable it is, the more beautiful it is. It’s an encapsulated moment in time.
Of course, that’s when it’s private. Publicly that pimple is forever blighting your face. There aren’t that many people out there that can pull that off. William S Burroughs, of course, or Tom Waits… but not me. I’m just not that cool.
Some time ago I remember having a conversation with Prokofy about my deleting a bunch of my old stuff. I made a bunch of videos during a period of time in my life where I was angry and feeling overwhelmed. Lots of political ranting and pontificating, but you know… like most things a person gets passionate about, it was a little extreme. A few months roll by, you look back, and realize you don’t feel that way anymore. So what do you do?
You could leave it. “That’s who I was” and all that. The problem is that if you leave it you’re stuck with it. It’s just as potent a message today as it was six months ago, and it’s saying something you don’t agree with. It’s saying it with your face and your name. You really want to live with that?
So to hell with it. Gone. All of it. I did a full purge.
Of course Prok wasn’t all that happy about my little anecdote. Aghast, he wanted to know how I could do such a heinous thing. That was my WORK. My CREATION. I poured my time and effort into that. How could I just get rid of it?
Easy. I hit the Delete button. Yes to confirm.
It’s like those people desperate to build a dynasty, or the ancient mumifiers, or that Singularity-obsessed cultish clique that obsess over the preservation of themselves into eternity. These people are so desperate to keep their particular combination of thoughts and feelings preserved for all time that they never stop to think that maybe, just maybe, not everything needs preserving. I don’t at all regret the loss of my sixth grade spelling tests, or my terrible high school attempts at poetry, or even my first few short stories that amounted to pretentious exploitation pieces. Time passes and you either slough off the old skin or stunt your growth.
So you know, enjoy what you read here because tomorrow I might just go ahead and wipe it out. No regrets.
During the live Lollapalooza Webcast of a concert by the Seattle-based super-group, the telco giant muted lead singer Eddie Vedder just as he launched into a lyric against President George Bush. The lines — “George Bush, leave this world alone” and “George Bush find yourself another home” were somehow lost in the mix.
Here’s the clip:
Here’s an uncensored version:
Here’s my advice to the telco: apologize. It’s not up to you to decide what reality is. This was vile.
John Martin Pandemonium, 1841
Oil on Canvas Click
The FORBES Magazine Collection, New York
Click image for 1800×1198 version
Drama and the Second Life Herald have always gone hand in hand, but drama about the Herald is a bit different. Some changes have been made, and as a result Prokofy Neva will no longer be contributing for the paper.
It’s a complicated situation with a lot of moving parts. One part has to do with Prokofy Neva’s particular take on the events in question. Another part is Pixeleen Mistral’s new editing powers. Some would say that this all boils down to communication problems, betrayal, scheming – all the elements of a good drama. Personally though, I think it mainly has to do with Urizenus Sklar (Peter Ludlow) and Walker Spaight (Mark Wallace) publishing this:
This is going to take some explaining. In fact, it’s going to take an epic (read: long) tale to truly explain this situation. Let me pop one of those fancy WordPress <!–more–> tags in here and then dig into a brief history of the Herald and how things have kind of, well, exploded lately.
