Twitter. I utterly fail to see the appeal of Twitter. Understand that I am someone who is online a lot – I am not offering up the standard crank “why you kids playin’ with those danged computers dang it” rant here. But this need for total connectedness is beyond me, and frankly it’s not even total connectedness because it’s entirely a one-way conversation: you blather whatever into Twitter and other people see it, but you don’t have to listen back to them. Which, come to think, is pretty ego-driven communication in a passive-aggressive sort of way. You can tell people what you’re doing and you don’t have to listen to their responses, and not is this the expected norm, it’s the driving design principle!
What the fuck is up with that? People have suggested this is the evolution of the Facebook status message, but Facebook exists primarily for the purpose of two-way communication, obsessive as it might be. (Well, that and Scrabulous.) Twitter in essence takes the self-absorption that the connected lifestyle demands (all the co-presence of a community, without the niggling demand of learning to tolerate the in-person social quirks of others) and caters to it.
All of this might be forgivable if Twitter produced clever, interesting communiques, but it doesn’t – it’s an endless parade of banalities. Another way of looking at Twitter’s general pointlessness is to consider how many Twitter messages would be worthy of mention when replying to the question, “so how was your day?” Easily most would not qualify, because in person when someone asks you that, you don’t tell them about the thousand little annoyances in your day; it’s just the (relatively) important stuff.
The “Green Arrow goes to supervillain jail” movie. People recently started talking about this again and I just don’t see the appeal. The concept isn’t bad, but I can tell you right now the execution will be hamfisted dogshit.
Why will it be hamfisted dogshit? Well, other than Green Arrow being a terrible superhero concept (“has a bow”), this is the sort of movie that demands immense, immense amounts of exposition to explain what the hell is going on. The problem is that most filmmakers are really, really bad at delivering details of a differing world without simply vomiting up a horde of banal, boring, patronizing explanatory dialogue.
(This is one of the things that people who mock the original Star Wars trilogy really miss – Lucas created an entire expansive universe and, unusually so for him, resisted the temptation to explain anything more than necessary. It is a rare achievement, which is one of the reasons the original trilogy is so good and the second prequel trilogy is not.)
This is not to say that the movie might not be good. It might well be good. It just very likely won’t, because it’s setting itself up for failure right from the premise by choosing such a difficult focus, and let’s be honest, you are not going to get a Bryan Singer or Christopher Nolan making this movie. This is the Steel of this generation right here, people!
Also, “Supermax” is a terrible, terrible title, sounding not unlike a giant Japanese fighting robot. GO SUPERMAX! ELECTRON JUICE ATTACK SUPREME! Et cetera.
People who bag on Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. It’s a better movie than Last Crusade, people – a movie which gets by mostly on Sean Connery’s charisma and the extra import added by the Holy Grail. (And I like Last Crusade, people, so don’t start.) Yes, Kate Capshaw is kind of annoying. Yes, Short Round is a questionable character idea. But it’s got the best action in the entire series – moreso than Crusade and even Raiders – and its closing sequence is easily the best, most exciting in the series. It’s simply the most daring movie of the franchise.
Grey’s Anatomy. It’s like Scrubs, except not as funny, not as good at the dramatic moments, and twice as long.