...firing Left Thumb. I mean, this is a bit ridiculous.
~Right Thumb~
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Best 8 of 12: As Seen from the Left
Ah, so now it is time for my side of the equation. I am sure that in the first installment of this segment you were treated to an eclectic mix of cinema—running the gamut from space romance to neo noir, or something like that. Knowing Right Thumb, you may have even been treated to a lecture on the value of postmodern non-diegetic editing. I’m sure the word “postmodern” came up at some point, anyway. If it didn’t, I’m a monkey’s uncle.
I did not view his post before selecting my films, as a disclaimer. If we are synchronized at the least, chalk it up to the synergetic motion of minds at high IQ levels.
AI: Artificial Intelligence
This one is obvious to anyone who’s seen it. It’s the closest thing to a Stanley Kubrick film in the past twelve years, and that alone is enough to guarantee its place here.
War of the Worlds
No, I am not a Spielberg fanboy. (To prove that, I need only mention that I regard Minority Report as one of the worst films of the past twelve years. This is a bone of some contention with Right Thumb.) But War of the Worlds is just so, so well done. The special effects are, quite simply, the best of the past twelve years. There might be movies that are on par in the effects department, but nothing beats this. Period.
The Insider
Every facet of this movie is executed perfectly. The acting is stupendous even for its already-stupendous actors. The writing is superb. The direction is virtually flawless. The music is beyond fantastic. Of course, any music director that acknowledges the genius of Arvo Pärt is a made-man in my book.*
All the same, I anticipate a few gripes about this. A great movie, yes, but come on, best of the past twelve years? Well, it has been a barren twelve years, firstly, but this movie stands up notwithstanding. (If that’s possible.) It is frighteningly close to a perfect film. Perhaps it doesn’t try to climb as high on the rocky mountain of philosophical and aesthetic brilliance as, say, a 2001, but where it does go it goes quickly, smoothly, without a hitch.
Into Great Silence
Quite simply the most effective monk-smut I’ve ever seen. I was perfectly incapable of thinking straight when I first viewed this film, but now that I’ve had time to reflect upon the atrocities it lays bare, I cannot but admire the audacity of the director. There’s something to be said for a documentarian that tells the whole truth. This is heroic cinematic journalism at its finest. I will never, never revisit this film, nor will I recommend it to anyone whom I do not wish to irreversibly corrupt—and indeed, I wish that I myself had never seen those first fifty minutes at all. But what’s done is done and now, with only a minor shudder, I can acknowledge (at least intellectually) the relevance of this chilling, haunting, daunting, brutal, dirty, and altogether demonic documentary.
Battlestar Galactica
You knew it would be here. You’ll probably complain. Save yourself the bother and actually watch it. (Preferably without so many preconceptions and ill-conceived prejudices that you can’t see straight while you watch it.)
Wall-E
This is really a composite entry on my list. It is a stand-in for nearly every Pixar film made in the past twelve years. My summers now feel empty if I don’t get to see a Pixar movie.
Why Wall-E? Of all the choices, Wall-E reaches the farthest. Its execution is second to none, and if it drags a little at times, we can chalk it up to the film’s cinematic self-awareness. I wouldn’t argue with someone if they take Finding Nemo, Monsters Inc. or even Up over this one. It’s kind of like picking between episodes of the previous entry. They are all so fantastic that eventually it can come down to personal choice. (Now, granted, there are about ten times as many viable Galactica episodes. This casts no aspersion on Pixar, however, and cannot be construed as such.)
The Passion of the Christ
This is one film that I am very interested to see how it ages. It could be something still watched many decades from now, or it could not. It most certainly should be. Cinematically speaking, I know of no other depiction of the death of Christ that approaches the artistry, craft and effectiveness of this film. It is both a movie and a meditation. It recognizes that a religious film is much, much more than a simple retelling—it must be as intensely personal as the events it depicts. Yes, so the director drives me nuts. Mozart would probably drive me nuts.
Children of Men
I have a confession to make. I delayed the writing of this post by about half a week. (Much to the chagrin of Right Thumb, who seems to think that prose as charming, idiosyncratic and erudite as mine can be hammered out in an hour like some paper on the commutative properties of Higgs boson particles at extreme conditions.) I am now exceedingly glad I did so. For in this interval I have watched a movie that would have been simply tragic to omit from this list. About as tragic as Peter Jackson’s King Kong.**
We have had a number of movies in the past twelve years about how terrible the future could be. All of them, however, seem to do it just for its own sake. “Hey, look at my movie, yeah, see how terrible and dark and depressing the future is? Yeah, uh-huh? Now nominate me for an Oscar, yeah? I’m so depressing!!” Children of Men does no such thing. It manages to make a world that is even more terrible than any of these others, and still have a larger point. It manages to have some of the best cinematography in recent history. It manages to make you actually think, and not just expect you to drop your jaw mindlessly and say, “Well this movie clinched it. Now I’ll be a better person because if I’m not then robots will take over the world.”
And so it was ensured a place here. Be thankful for my laziness—it might save the world someday.
> Left Thumb <
* It’s not a very long book.
** Every time I remember that Kong was actually produced, I weep uncontrollably.
I did not view his post before selecting my films, as a disclaimer. If we are synchronized at the least, chalk it up to the synergetic motion of minds at high IQ levels.
AI: Artificial Intelligence
This one is obvious to anyone who’s seen it. It’s the closest thing to a Stanley Kubrick film in the past twelve years, and that alone is enough to guarantee its place here.
War of the Worlds
No, I am not a Spielberg fanboy. (To prove that, I need only mention that I regard Minority Report as one of the worst films of the past twelve years. This is a bone of some contention with Right Thumb.) But War of the Worlds is just so, so well done. The special effects are, quite simply, the best of the past twelve years. There might be movies that are on par in the effects department, but nothing beats this. Period.
The Insider
Every facet of this movie is executed perfectly. The acting is stupendous even for its already-stupendous actors. The writing is superb. The direction is virtually flawless. The music is beyond fantastic. Of course, any music director that acknowledges the genius of Arvo Pärt is a made-man in my book.*
All the same, I anticipate a few gripes about this. A great movie, yes, but come on, best of the past twelve years? Well, it has been a barren twelve years, firstly, but this movie stands up notwithstanding. (If that’s possible.) It is frighteningly close to a perfect film. Perhaps it doesn’t try to climb as high on the rocky mountain of philosophical and aesthetic brilliance as, say, a 2001, but where it does go it goes quickly, smoothly, without a hitch.
Into Great Silence
Quite simply the most effective monk-smut I’ve ever seen. I was perfectly incapable of thinking straight when I first viewed this film, but now that I’ve had time to reflect upon the atrocities it lays bare, I cannot but admire the audacity of the director. There’s something to be said for a documentarian that tells the whole truth. This is heroic cinematic journalism at its finest. I will never, never revisit this film, nor will I recommend it to anyone whom I do not wish to irreversibly corrupt—and indeed, I wish that I myself had never seen those first fifty minutes at all. But what’s done is done and now, with only a minor shudder, I can acknowledge (at least intellectually) the relevance of this chilling, haunting, daunting, brutal, dirty, and altogether demonic documentary.
Battlestar Galactica
You knew it would be here. You’ll probably complain. Save yourself the bother and actually watch it. (Preferably without so many preconceptions and ill-conceived prejudices that you can’t see straight while you watch it.)
Wall-E
This is really a composite entry on my list. It is a stand-in for nearly every Pixar film made in the past twelve years. My summers now feel empty if I don’t get to see a Pixar movie.
Why Wall-E? Of all the choices, Wall-E reaches the farthest. Its execution is second to none, and if it drags a little at times, we can chalk it up to the film’s cinematic self-awareness. I wouldn’t argue with someone if they take Finding Nemo, Monsters Inc. or even Up over this one. It’s kind of like picking between episodes of the previous entry. They are all so fantastic that eventually it can come down to personal choice. (Now, granted, there are about ten times as many viable Galactica episodes. This casts no aspersion on Pixar, however, and cannot be construed as such.)
The Passion of the Christ
This is one film that I am very interested to see how it ages. It could be something still watched many decades from now, or it could not. It most certainly should be. Cinematically speaking, I know of no other depiction of the death of Christ that approaches the artistry, craft and effectiveness of this film. It is both a movie and a meditation. It recognizes that a religious film is much, much more than a simple retelling—it must be as intensely personal as the events it depicts. Yes, so the director drives me nuts. Mozart would probably drive me nuts.
Children of Men
I have a confession to make. I delayed the writing of this post by about half a week. (Much to the chagrin of Right Thumb, who seems to think that prose as charming, idiosyncratic and erudite as mine can be hammered out in an hour like some paper on the commutative properties of Higgs boson particles at extreme conditions.) I am now exceedingly glad I did so. For in this interval I have watched a movie that would have been simply tragic to omit from this list. About as tragic as Peter Jackson’s King Kong.**
We have had a number of movies in the past twelve years about how terrible the future could be. All of them, however, seem to do it just for its own sake. “Hey, look at my movie, yeah, see how terrible and dark and depressing the future is? Yeah, uh-huh? Now nominate me for an Oscar, yeah? I’m so depressing!!” Children of Men does no such thing. It manages to make a world that is even more terrible than any of these others, and still have a larger point. It manages to have some of the best cinematography in recent history. It manages to make you actually think, and not just expect you to drop your jaw mindlessly and say, “Well this movie clinched it. Now I’ll be a better person because if I’m not then robots will take over the world.”
And so it was ensured a place here. Be thankful for my laziness—it might save the world someday.
> Left Thumb <
* It’s not a very long book.
** Every time I remember that Kong was actually produced, I weep uncontrollably.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Best 8 of 12
In honor of something (but certainly not the arbitrary end of the decade), we at Two Thumbs Sideways are attempting an experiment. We will independently determine which eight movies were the best of the past twelve years. Why eight? Why twelve? Because they are arbitrary and obviously so, as opposed to being arbitrary and not so obviously so (i.e. best ten of the decade lists). Why independently? We want to see the differences in what we come up with. (I just ended that sentence with two prepositions. That takes talent…) Then, after posting our separate lists and explanations, we will post together, explaining the differences and similarities. It goes without saying that Battlestar Galactica will adorn both lists, even though it isn’t a movie. This is a “best of” list. It belongs.
Battlestar Galactica
What is there left to say? 73 hours of visual euphoria.
The Insider
My man-crush on Russell Crowe notwithstanding, it is hard to deny the guy’s talent. He can play a macho gladiator, a nuanced cop, a Napoleonic-era ship captain, a neo-Nazi, and apparently, a chemist-turned whistleblower with startling skill. If he isn’t the best actor of his generation, his generation is spoiled with two transcendent actors.
Of course, Al Pacino is hardly a lightweight, and when thrown together behind Michael Mann’s direction (yeah, the same Michael Mann who almost rescued Public Enemies from the abyss of one of the most sterile scripts ever written), you get a thriller so thrilling that I would have found it outrageously compelling even without its being a true story.
Then, with about twenty seconds left in the film, it dawned on me that it is in fact the true story. If a movie can keep me interested for that long before I realize it is all (mostly) real… It deserves a place on this list.
Children of Men
When Clive Owen walks out of a restaurant, and then it blows up, the tone for the whole movie is set. Stuff just happens. It isn’t dramatized or aided by the crescendo of a John Williams score. It just happens. Later, one of the most startling and best executed long takes of all time continues this mantra by taking you through an entire battle-ridden neighborhood—without slowing down to appreciate anything that is going on. Sometimes, a movie needs to slow down. But Children of Men wants you to experience life without children. And without children, our lives would never slow down, and the dramatic crescendos would never come. It is rare for a movie to even appreciate what it is trying to do—actually executing it is rarer still.
Wall-E
Science Fiction is the world of ideas. The greatest Sci-Fi movie ever made, Stanley’s magnum opus, the wonder of wonders that is 2001: A Space Odyssey, understood this by asking all of the big questions. All of them. Wall-E understands this by asking all of the little questions. All of them.
Never, in a movie ostensibly dealing with robots and global warming, have the importance and wonder of the little things been more important or wondrous. Wall-E’s affection for all things with hinges (while ignoring a diamond ring), the gorgeous but barren landscape which exaggerates every small bit of color, the ship with everything but a soul—Wall-E appreciates the little things in life. Few movies, animated or otherwise, have ever shown a greater appreciation for these details than Wall-E.
In Bruges
I could say In Bruges is funny; it is. I could say it is haunting; it is. I could say it is touching; it is. I could say it is clever; it is. I could say it is a bit manipulative, and made for smart guys. I don’t know if it was. But if it was, they did a good job. Colin Farrell (yeah, this guy) is not exactly what I would call a character actor. But he creates a character here who is somehow both of these things: 1) an assassin, 2) believably naive. It seems absurd, but he pulls it off so well that you don’t come to the end of the movie and suddenly realize you have been fooled. I still think of him and I still think of the movie as if the footage continues to roll.
The Passion of the Christ
Before we get to the big two—the two movies, without which, the last twelve years would have been more or less lacking in sheer greatness—we must mention a film which does something pretty amazing.
Nothing can truly capture the significance, power and divinity of the crucifixion. But as Truffaut said, and as I firmly believe, cinema is “the most beautiful fraud in the world”. Movies can’t actually be real—but they can seem so real as to cause us to react in real ways. In much the same way that we more or less trick our muscles into growing larger by lifting weights, we trick our minds into growing by watching movies. And the Passion of the Christ more completely envelops you in the story of redemption than any other film has ever managed to do. From beginning to end, it seems like the world is at stake. It just so happens that the world actually was.
A.I. Artificial Intelligence
Great science fiction is hard to find. In an era that has been quite the high mark for good science fiction (Dark City, Gattaca, Minority Report, Primer, War of the Worlds, etc.) we have only seen one truly great Sci-Fi film (outside of the aforementioned animated world). This is not hard to explain—film and Sci-Fi do not necessarily mix so easily. The world of ideas and the world of images are hard to reconcile at times. When it works, it is the height of art and intellection (Blade Runner). When it doesn’t work, it is a bit painful to watch (the Fountain).
A.I. works. It isn’t quite a modern 2001, but it asks questions that are relevant to our time while still big enough to endure through time. You might call it 2001 for kids, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. A.I. deals with issues surrounding childhood that don’t disappear just because our own childhood did. We shouldn’t lose our sense of wonder and our love for our mothers—and a little robot child doesn’t. But often, we do. What the heck is going on there? A.I. wonders. It does so vividly, intensely, and, lest it scare people off, intelligently.
In an ending that annoyed some people and depressed others, I see a bit of Spielberg’s optimism shining through (though clearly not blatantly, as evinced by the fact that most people think the ending was cynical). Maybe it seems out of place for a shot of optimism in a nearly apocalyptic film, but I think it works. We should always hope. And the child-robot that remains attached to his mother also remains attached to that hope. And we gave him that. If we could instill that into a “mecha”, we must still have it in ourselves.
No Country for Old Men
The perfect movie. Such a moniker does not always imply greatness—sometimes it means the filmmakers didn’t try to do anything, so they managed to do very little… perfectly. But when the Coens construct a perfect film, it means something. The Coens never shortchange themselves on goals. Their somewhat (Read: drastically) uneven filmography is the result of always aiming for the stars and a willingness to take risks. When it all works, you get classics such as Blood Simple or Miller’s Crossing; when it doesn’t, you get refuse such as Intolerable Cruelty or Burn After Reading. Then, you have No Country for Old Men. They didn’t aim too high. All they tried to do was explore the nature of guilt, evil, courage, the passage of time, and do it all in a visually resplendent manner while keeping you on the proverbial edge of your proverbial seat.
And they did. The Coens, quite simply, fit more onto the screen than other modern filmmakers. No Country is two hours long (almost exactly) but doesn’t waste a second or a pixel of screen. So it seems like you have had many years worth of images thrown at you. And you have. Two years later, I am still marveling at it. And I think I will be many years from now. And that is why it is the Best Film of the Past Twelve Years.
Battlestar Galactica
What is there left to say? 73 hours of visual euphoria.
The Insider
My man-crush on Russell Crowe notwithstanding, it is hard to deny the guy’s talent. He can play a macho gladiator, a nuanced cop, a Napoleonic-era ship captain, a neo-Nazi, and apparently, a chemist-turned whistleblower with startling skill. If he isn’t the best actor of his generation, his generation is spoiled with two transcendent actors.
Of course, Al Pacino is hardly a lightweight, and when thrown together behind Michael Mann’s direction (yeah, the same Michael Mann who almost rescued Public Enemies from the abyss of one of the most sterile scripts ever written), you get a thriller so thrilling that I would have found it outrageously compelling even without its being a true story.
Then, with about twenty seconds left in the film, it dawned on me that it is in fact the true story. If a movie can keep me interested for that long before I realize it is all (mostly) real… It deserves a place on this list.
Children of Men
When Clive Owen walks out of a restaurant, and then it blows up, the tone for the whole movie is set. Stuff just happens. It isn’t dramatized or aided by the crescendo of a John Williams score. It just happens. Later, one of the most startling and best executed long takes of all time continues this mantra by taking you through an entire battle-ridden neighborhood—without slowing down to appreciate anything that is going on. Sometimes, a movie needs to slow down. But Children of Men wants you to experience life without children. And without children, our lives would never slow down, and the dramatic crescendos would never come. It is rare for a movie to even appreciate what it is trying to do—actually executing it is rarer still.
Wall-E
Science Fiction is the world of ideas. The greatest Sci-Fi movie ever made, Stanley’s magnum opus, the wonder of wonders that is 2001: A Space Odyssey, understood this by asking all of the big questions. All of them. Wall-E understands this by asking all of the little questions. All of them.
Never, in a movie ostensibly dealing with robots and global warming, have the importance and wonder of the little things been more important or wondrous. Wall-E’s affection for all things with hinges (while ignoring a diamond ring), the gorgeous but barren landscape which exaggerates every small bit of color, the ship with everything but a soul—Wall-E appreciates the little things in life. Few movies, animated or otherwise, have ever shown a greater appreciation for these details than Wall-E.
In Bruges
I could say In Bruges is funny; it is. I could say it is haunting; it is. I could say it is touching; it is. I could say it is clever; it is. I could say it is a bit manipulative, and made for smart guys. I don’t know if it was. But if it was, they did a good job. Colin Farrell (yeah, this guy) is not exactly what I would call a character actor. But he creates a character here who is somehow both of these things: 1) an assassin, 2) believably naive. It seems absurd, but he pulls it off so well that you don’t come to the end of the movie and suddenly realize you have been fooled. I still think of him and I still think of the movie as if the footage continues to roll.
The Passion of the Christ
Before we get to the big two—the two movies, without which, the last twelve years would have been more or less lacking in sheer greatness—we must mention a film which does something pretty amazing.
Nothing can truly capture the significance, power and divinity of the crucifixion. But as Truffaut said, and as I firmly believe, cinema is “the most beautiful fraud in the world”. Movies can’t actually be real—but they can seem so real as to cause us to react in real ways. In much the same way that we more or less trick our muscles into growing larger by lifting weights, we trick our minds into growing by watching movies. And the Passion of the Christ more completely envelops you in the story of redemption than any other film has ever managed to do. From beginning to end, it seems like the world is at stake. It just so happens that the world actually was.
A.I. Artificial Intelligence
Great science fiction is hard to find. In an era that has been quite the high mark for good science fiction (Dark City, Gattaca, Minority Report, Primer, War of the Worlds, etc.) we have only seen one truly great Sci-Fi film (outside of the aforementioned animated world). This is not hard to explain—film and Sci-Fi do not necessarily mix so easily. The world of ideas and the world of images are hard to reconcile at times. When it works, it is the height of art and intellection (Blade Runner). When it doesn’t work, it is a bit painful to watch (the Fountain).
A.I. works. It isn’t quite a modern 2001, but it asks questions that are relevant to our time while still big enough to endure through time. You might call it 2001 for kids, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. A.I. deals with issues surrounding childhood that don’t disappear just because our own childhood did. We shouldn’t lose our sense of wonder and our love for our mothers—and a little robot child doesn’t. But often, we do. What the heck is going on there? A.I. wonders. It does so vividly, intensely, and, lest it scare people off, intelligently.
In an ending that annoyed some people and depressed others, I see a bit of Spielberg’s optimism shining through (though clearly not blatantly, as evinced by the fact that most people think the ending was cynical). Maybe it seems out of place for a shot of optimism in a nearly apocalyptic film, but I think it works. We should always hope. And the child-robot that remains attached to his mother also remains attached to that hope. And we gave him that. If we could instill that into a “mecha”, we must still have it in ourselves.
No Country for Old Men
The perfect movie. Such a moniker does not always imply greatness—sometimes it means the filmmakers didn’t try to do anything, so they managed to do very little… perfectly. But when the Coens construct a perfect film, it means something. The Coens never shortchange themselves on goals. Their somewhat (Read: drastically) uneven filmography is the result of always aiming for the stars and a willingness to take risks. When it all works, you get classics such as Blood Simple or Miller’s Crossing; when it doesn’t, you get refuse such as Intolerable Cruelty or Burn After Reading. Then, you have No Country for Old Men. They didn’t aim too high. All they tried to do was explore the nature of guilt, evil, courage, the passage of time, and do it all in a visually resplendent manner while keeping you on the proverbial edge of your proverbial seat.
And they did. The Coens, quite simply, fit more onto the screen than other modern filmmakers. No Country is two hours long (almost exactly) but doesn’t waste a second or a pixel of screen. So it seems like you have had many years worth of images thrown at you. And you have. Two years later, I am still marveling at it. And I think I will be many years from now. And that is why it is the Best Film of the Past Twelve Years.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Counting Things: The Angry Right Thumb
I am nonplussed. Now, despite Left Thumb's arguments that this could very easily mean I am also non-subtracted and hence neutral, this is not the fashion in which you, the reader, should comprehend my statement of dissatisfaction. What has me so perturbed? Well, Stephanie Meyers, obviously, but beyond her attempts to return literature to the stone age (although, this might be an insult to rocks), numbers bother me. On the West Wing, Josh Lyman once said "Numbers don't lie." Joey Lucas astutely responded. "Of course they do. They lie all the time."
So let's get to it. Some are purveyors of the truth, others are dastardly (like 156. watch out for 156). But either way, they (or their being ignored by people) annoy me. Actually, they enrage me. Right Thumb is enraged.
156. Let's face it. This number lies all the time. You know it does. I know it does. Let's just get rid of it. Who is up for going from 155-157?
12,000,000,000,000: This is how much money we owe people. Needless to say, I am not a big fan of gargantuan numbers which represent money I owe to other people unless there is a cute little "-" before the number begins. Of course, there isn't.
Something like a gazillion: The number of pages in the Senate and House healthcare bills. Easy reading.
3.1: Nuclear power plants, over the long haul, can produce electricity at a relative costs of 2.1-3.1 cents per kilowatt. Coal plants, from 3.7-6.0 cents per kilowatt. So, why are we not making nuclear power plants? I HAVE NO FREAKING CLUE SO EXPLAIN IT TO ME. Granted, the startup costs for a nuclear plant are a much higher percentage of those total long run costs (estimated to be about 50% of the total cost compared with 15% for a coal fired plant's start up costs) but with today's interest rates, who cares?! And these aren't numbers spewed out by some Nuclear Researcher who needs a job. They come from two international organizations, one within the OECD (the Nuclear Energy Agency) as well as the IEA (International Energy Agency). The end is nigh, not because of Mayan calendars ending, but for the same reason the end is always nigh. People. Are. St00pid.
0.0: The effective interest rate in our country right now. Seriously. Look at that number. Somebody tell me this could possibly be a good thing. SOMEONE TELL ME THAT.
*looks around*
No one? Yeah, thought so.
Approaching 70%: The divorce rate in our country. Let's keep advertising contraception on TV though, because clearly it is working.
Some positive number: The amount of money our Treasury Secretary did not pay to the government that he was legally obligated to pay.
3rd: The arguments regarding a "2nd" stimulus bill are really about a third. Bush passed a stimulus bill. We just didn't call it that. But it cost 800 billion dollars and was, for all intents and purposes, a stimulus bill.
6: The number of years you were expected to be dead for by the time you got a single social security check back when social security was invented.
20: The number of years life expectancy has increased since social security was invented.
14: The difference between those two numbers.
8: The number of years since the Twin Towers got knocked over by a bunch of evil thugs.
0: The number of large buildings we have built where the Twin Towers used to be. I'd say shameful, but this is just the way we operate now. When was the last great public works project this country undertook? The transcontinental railroad? We might as well hold up a sign: knock our buildings down... we'll talk about our resiliency a lot, maybe even invade some countries we picked out of a hat, but we won't actually fix anything!
Let's end on a happier note:
25: Days until Christmas. Have a wonderful season.
~Right Thumb~
So let's get to it. Some are purveyors of the truth, others are dastardly (like 156. watch out for 156). But either way, they (or their being ignored by people) annoy me. Actually, they enrage me. Right Thumb is enraged.
156. Let's face it. This number lies all the time. You know it does. I know it does. Let's just get rid of it. Who is up for going from 155-157?
12,000,000,000,000: This is how much money we owe people. Needless to say, I am not a big fan of gargantuan numbers which represent money I owe to other people unless there is a cute little "-" before the number begins. Of course, there isn't.
Something like a gazillion: The number of pages in the Senate and House healthcare bills. Easy reading.
3.1: Nuclear power plants, over the long haul, can produce electricity at a relative costs of 2.1-3.1 cents per kilowatt. Coal plants, from 3.7-6.0 cents per kilowatt. So, why are we not making nuclear power plants? I HAVE NO FREAKING CLUE SO EXPLAIN IT TO ME. Granted, the startup costs for a nuclear plant are a much higher percentage of those total long run costs (estimated to be about 50% of the total cost compared with 15% for a coal fired plant's start up costs) but with today's interest rates, who cares?! And these aren't numbers spewed out by some Nuclear Researcher who needs a job. They come from two international organizations, one within the OECD (the Nuclear Energy Agency) as well as the IEA (International Energy Agency). The end is nigh, not because of Mayan calendars ending, but for the same reason the end is always nigh. People. Are. St00pid.
0.0: The effective interest rate in our country right now. Seriously. Look at that number. Somebody tell me this could possibly be a good thing. SOMEONE TELL ME THAT.
*looks around*
No one? Yeah, thought so.
Approaching 70%: The divorce rate in our country. Let's keep advertising contraception on TV though, because clearly it is working.
Some positive number: The amount of money our Treasury Secretary did not pay to the government that he was legally obligated to pay.
3rd: The arguments regarding a "2nd" stimulus bill are really about a third. Bush passed a stimulus bill. We just didn't call it that. But it cost 800 billion dollars and was, for all intents and purposes, a stimulus bill.
6: The number of years you were expected to be dead for by the time you got a single social security check back when social security was invented.
20: The number of years life expectancy has increased since social security was invented.
14: The difference between those two numbers.
8: The number of years since the Twin Towers got knocked over by a bunch of evil thugs.
0: The number of large buildings we have built where the Twin Towers used to be. I'd say shameful, but this is just the way we operate now. When was the last great public works project this country undertook? The transcontinental railroad? We might as well hold up a sign: knock our buildings down... we'll talk about our resiliency a lot, maybe even invade some countries we picked out of a hat, but we won't actually fix anything!
Let's end on a happier note:
25: Days until Christmas. Have a wonderful season.
~Right Thumb~
Monday, November 23, 2009
Robber and Robbed: Subjectivist Slamming
This post is being made in response to one of our readers, who, in commenting upon one of our posts, expressed dissatisfaction with the intelligence level of our philosophical foils. (Let it never be said that we do not heed the comments. So go comment. Now.) This reader was of course right in that Ayn Rand’s IQ was lower than the temperature in Antarctica or even the IQ of Uwe Boll. According to reliable sources,* any IQ beneath 70 is considered feeble-minded. By this measure, Ayn Rand’s mind was so feeble it couldn’t make it from the easy chair to the bathroom without a team of social workers.
And so I have decided to up the ante with this post—philosophically speaking, that is. And also normally speaking. While my subject today still deserves a hefty dose of Thumb-style ridicule, he was actually kind of a Smart Guy. Arguably. But he was dastardly.
Robber: Immanuel Kant
Robbed: Western civilization
Oh, he played innocent. Look at old Immanuel, no harm to anybody. He just stares at a church steeple all day and then scribbles down some notes about Life, the Universe and Everything.** He’d never hurt a fly, let alone set humanity upon a downward spiral of philosophical inquiry that would hold us at a virtual standstill for at least several centuries and lead to widespread relativism and denial of the metaphysical and epistemological basis of the concept of truth in the human mind.
My purpose is not to delve into Immanuel’s actual philosophy. That would frankly bore readers, and would also require that I actually read his stuff. I have no intention of doing so in the near future, not because I don’t occasionally enjoy inhaling feces directly from the page, but because there are simply too many other good Books around. Like Asimov. But it might be good to show you readers the big picture, at least, and see why his influence has been so perfidious.
After and because of Immanuel, philosophers began to think you couldn’t talk about Truth anymore. It was merely a measure of subjective experience, they said, and not a statement about reality.
While I will not try here to refute Immanuel and his band of groupies in any philosophical sense,*** I will say that this is simply excrement. 2001 really is the greatest movie ever made, not just subjectively so. Millennium Force really is one step beneath heaven. This post really is about Immanuel Kant. Right Thumb really is smarter than you.
Now let’s take a look at a few quotes. Just for fun.
“Happiness is not an ideal of reason, but of imagination.”
If I can understand what he’s saying here (and if I can’t, it’s not a failing on my part but just that ol’ Immanuel liked to be ambiguous), he’s saying that when you actually think about it, happiness doesn’t really exist. Hah-hah! Immanuel clearly never watched Battlestar Galactica. Or Star Trek. Or read Two Thumbs Sideways. Then he would know happiness. (Possibly even ecstasy in the last case.) He must have led a bleak and dreary life. I’ll bet nobody ever gave him a kitten.
“I had therefore to remove knowledge, in order to make room for belief.”
No, you just believed you had to do this.
“Immaturity is the incapacity to use one's intelligence without the guidance of another.”
The other day I saw an elderly gentleman asking for help with his tax returns. I guffawed and said to Right Thumb, “Hehe, so immature!” (As a side-note, Right Thumb’s response was a veritable diarrhea-of-the-mouth concerning the economic theory behind senior citizens, taxes, policy-making, and The West Wing. He clearly felt strongly about many of the issues involved, although I could never quite make out his exact opinions.)
“In law a man is guilty when he violates the rights of others. In ethics he is guilty if he only thinks of doing so.”
I once thought of burning Critique of Pure Reason over Immanuel’s grave. Then I realized the fire might spread so I gave up on it. Oops, I’m unethical.
Now it’s time to finish up with Mr. Kant, simply because I cannot take any more of this. And remember, this post really did exist. Now, to see if our readers do.
> Left Thumb <
* Meaning a Google search.
** Although he was a Smart Guy, Immanuel was not quite smart enough to reach the conclusion of “42”.
*** I am certainly up to the task, but this would once again simply bore our readers to tears. That is, if tears exist other than in my subjective experience.
And so I have decided to up the ante with this post—philosophically speaking, that is. And also normally speaking. While my subject today still deserves a hefty dose of Thumb-style ridicule, he was actually kind of a Smart Guy. Arguably. But he was dastardly.
Robber: Immanuel Kant
Robbed: Western civilization
Oh, he played innocent. Look at old Immanuel, no harm to anybody. He just stares at a church steeple all day and then scribbles down some notes about Life, the Universe and Everything.** He’d never hurt a fly, let alone set humanity upon a downward spiral of philosophical inquiry that would hold us at a virtual standstill for at least several centuries and lead to widespread relativism and denial of the metaphysical and epistemological basis of the concept of truth in the human mind.
My purpose is not to delve into Immanuel’s actual philosophy. That would frankly bore readers, and would also require that I actually read his stuff. I have no intention of doing so in the near future, not because I don’t occasionally enjoy inhaling feces directly from the page, but because there are simply too many other good Books around. Like Asimov. But it might be good to show you readers the big picture, at least, and see why his influence has been so perfidious.
After and because of Immanuel, philosophers began to think you couldn’t talk about Truth anymore. It was merely a measure of subjective experience, they said, and not a statement about reality.
While I will not try here to refute Immanuel and his band of groupies in any philosophical sense,*** I will say that this is simply excrement. 2001 really is the greatest movie ever made, not just subjectively so. Millennium Force really is one step beneath heaven. This post really is about Immanuel Kant. Right Thumb really is smarter than you.
Now let’s take a look at a few quotes. Just for fun.
“Happiness is not an ideal of reason, but of imagination.”
If I can understand what he’s saying here (and if I can’t, it’s not a failing on my part but just that ol’ Immanuel liked to be ambiguous), he’s saying that when you actually think about it, happiness doesn’t really exist. Hah-hah! Immanuel clearly never watched Battlestar Galactica. Or Star Trek. Or read Two Thumbs Sideways. Then he would know happiness. (Possibly even ecstasy in the last case.) He must have led a bleak and dreary life. I’ll bet nobody ever gave him a kitten.
“I had therefore to remove knowledge, in order to make room for belief.”
No, you just believed you had to do this.
“Immaturity is the incapacity to use one's intelligence without the guidance of another.”
The other day I saw an elderly gentleman asking for help with his tax returns. I guffawed and said to Right Thumb, “Hehe, so immature!” (As a side-note, Right Thumb’s response was a veritable diarrhea-of-the-mouth concerning the economic theory behind senior citizens, taxes, policy-making, and The West Wing. He clearly felt strongly about many of the issues involved, although I could never quite make out his exact opinions.)
“In law a man is guilty when he violates the rights of others. In ethics he is guilty if he only thinks of doing so.”
I once thought of burning Critique of Pure Reason over Immanuel’s grave. Then I realized the fire might spread so I gave up on it. Oops, I’m unethical.
Now it’s time to finish up with Mr. Kant, simply because I cannot take any more of this. And remember, this post really did exist. Now, to see if our readers do.
> Left Thumb <
* Meaning a Google search.
** Although he was a Smart Guy, Immanuel was not quite smart enough to reach the conclusion of “42”.
*** I am certainly up to the task, but this would once again simply bore our readers to tears. That is, if tears exist other than in my subjective experience.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The hackneyed, trite, confounded...
...cliche. So abominable, so undesirable, so destructive. No better way to kill a conversation than to pull one of these out of your derriere. While I maintain that it is the French pronunciation that kills them (just imagine how cool they would be if they were pronounced "clish" as opposed to "clee-SHAY"), it is still worth sorting through them. Some are useless, some are horrendous, some are almost forgiveable. Let's get to it.
"All's well that ends well."
Horrendous. First of all, this is simply untrue. The Cold War ended well. This doesn't make me want to have another one (although, Left Thumb still thinks we are in one...) Second, if all parties agree that something ended well, why is there a need to superficially state that fact? And if parties are not all agreed, then... the pointlessness, amazingly, is enhanced.
"Better late then never."
Useless. Being late is very often not better than never. For instance, coming to the Beanie Baby craze late was okay... never finding it at all would have been preferable. Or, finding your pitching talent after you have already been traded from the Yankees is worse than never finding it. For the rest of your life you will regret your tardiness. For the rest of your life.
"You say tomato, I saw tomawto."
No you don't. NO ONE says tomawto.
"Time heals all wounds."
Almost useful. The only problem is...
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Leading to the first rule of cliches: you can always find another cliche that says the exact opposite thing.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness."
Excuse me, I need to have a chat with the Almighty. Let me grab my Jergens.
"The plural of anecdote isn't data."
This one is almost forgiveable. Even I have been known to employ it from time to time, in a totally non-sarcastic fashion.
"Defense wins championships."
So does offense.
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely."
We have absolutely no reason to believe this. The most powerful people in the history of the world were not absolutely powerful. And even then, most of them were just as evil/not evil before they took power as after. Genghis Khan didn't start ravaging villages once he conquered over 2/3 of the world. He ravaged villages in order to conquer 2/3 of the world.
"All's fair in love and war."
No it isn't. The reason we go to war is almost entirely because we are attempting to seek just retribution for some horrible wrong done to us by someone we thought loved us. Now that I think about it, I should go invade Belgrade.
"Water under the bridge, over the dam, etc."
I actually like this one. For instance, once I make this post, if anything offends you, which it surely will, I will apologize, and then you'll say "Oh don't worry, it's water under the bridge..."
People are always telling me that.
~Right Thumb~
"All's well that ends well."
Horrendous. First of all, this is simply untrue. The Cold War ended well. This doesn't make me want to have another one (although, Left Thumb still thinks we are in one...) Second, if all parties agree that something ended well, why is there a need to superficially state that fact? And if parties are not all agreed, then... the pointlessness, amazingly, is enhanced.
"Better late then never."
Useless. Being late is very often not better than never. For instance, coming to the Beanie Baby craze late was okay... never finding it at all would have been preferable. Or, finding your pitching talent after you have already been traded from the Yankees is worse than never finding it. For the rest of your life you will regret your tardiness. For the rest of your life.
"You say tomato, I saw tomawto."
No you don't. NO ONE says tomawto.
"Time heals all wounds."
Almost useful. The only problem is...
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Leading to the first rule of cliches: you can always find another cliche that says the exact opposite thing.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness."
Excuse me, I need to have a chat with the Almighty. Let me grab my Jergens.
"The plural of anecdote isn't data."
This one is almost forgiveable. Even I have been known to employ it from time to time, in a totally non-sarcastic fashion.
"Defense wins championships."
So does offense.
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely."
We have absolutely no reason to believe this. The most powerful people in the history of the world were not absolutely powerful. And even then, most of them were just as evil/not evil before they took power as after. Genghis Khan didn't start ravaging villages once he conquered over 2/3 of the world. He ravaged villages in order to conquer 2/3 of the world.
"All's fair in love and war."
No it isn't. The reason we go to war is almost entirely because we are attempting to seek just retribution for some horrible wrong done to us by someone we thought loved us. Now that I think about it, I should go invade Belgrade.
"Water under the bridge, over the dam, etc."
I actually like this one. For instance, once I make this post, if anything offends you, which it surely will, I will apologize, and then you'll say "Oh don't worry, it's water under the bridge..."
People are always telling me that.
~Right Thumb~
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Gods Speak
Ah… this is what power feels like…
Okay, so this is the models’ turn to write (for non-faithful readers, check here to catch up on who the models are, and here to see why it is our turn to write.) We don’t get much of a chance to say things—for some reason as soon as people see us they just start blabbering about some fellow named Apollo—so we’re pretty excited to get our entire own post. We would have been more excited by money, but whatever.
So we thought we would give you our humble (we stress that word) thoughts on the literature of this web log’s creators. We’ll jump from post to post, picking representative samples of their thoughtfulness. Or lack thereof. We stress that we rarely disagree with what is said (particularly when they start talking about us). But they are still idiots. Here’s what we mean.
From The Supercilious Snicker and the Smug Smile:
"We here at Two Thumbs Sideways…"
They say this every time. What are these guys? Two owners of a Midwestern saloon?
"…are what you might call... elitists."
Hah. They wish they were!
"We feel bad about this. Really we do."
We bet they don’t.
"It isn't our fault we were born with such gargantuan brains."
Ah. Finally some humility!
"Blame our parents. Seriously. Blame them. We do."
Actually, here we must agree. Did their parents just take a vacation for the entire period of time when kids are supposed to develop self-awareness?
From Robber and Robbed: The Russians Are Coming:
"Most people don’t realize this, but it wasn’t the English-speaking world that first came up with the whole totalitarian, thought-suppressing, vaguely familiar and mildly repetitive dystopian book idea."
Most people also don’t realize that most of the salt in the ocean is Calcium Carbonate, not table salt. But they don’t seem to attach much importance to that…
"It was the Russkies."
The balance of the article will claim the U.S. is still waging a cold war against Russia. And yet Left Thumb is the one who just blamed them for inventing thought-suppressing dystopias. We don’t claim to be brilliant, so explain that one to us.
"Oh, we may smile and wave when a Russian bomber flies by. We might have redirected our nukes, we might be hobnobbing with their cosmonauts on the International Space Station, we might even invite Putin and Medvedev over for Iran-bashing and vodka—but beneath the pleasant handshakes and warm promises of continued cooperation, we have our collective, metaphorical fingers ever so defiantly crossed."
Actually, other than the ISS part… we do none of these things. Or at least, we personally cannot remember waving as a Russian bomber flew by. (What is it with Left Thumb and the Russians, anyway?)
From A Conversation with the Devil:
"In fact, do a Google search for Ayn Rand and you will be completely inundated by the inane."
We actually did this. Turns out, they were right. We were inundated by the inane!
From Robber and Robbed: Rubber Ducky Derivatives:
"But I'm not going to talk about that at any great length today. Frankly, encapsulating the sheer outrage (some might even say diabolical plot) that surrounds Oliver! winning the 1968 Academy Award for Best Picture would take the aid of Left Thumb. Not because I, Right Thumb, could not list the multifarious and multitudinous facets of this atrocity. No, Left Thumb and I are perfectly capable of doing that on our own. But neither of us could handle the psychological damage without the comfort of another human being who understands. So the Greatest Movie Atrocity of All Time will have to wait for a day when the Thumbs are united. Today the quarry is not quite so unspeakable."
We are seriously confused by what Right Thumb means when he says, “I’m not going to talk about that at any great length today.” Great length for him must be something like a 65 page research paper, and even then he might call that a brief intro to the topic at hand…
From Shameful Listing of Things:
"Sometimes, making a list of favorite films or books or rollercoasters is as opprobrious as allowing a pack of peasants and griffins to defeat your half dozen azure dragons. Other times it is only about as shameful as letting ancient BEE-moths defeat your azure dragons."
We doubt you have any clue what any of this means. This probably never occurs to the Thumbs. Ever.
From Counting Things:
"- Number of Isaac Asimov books that are worth reading: 10. Those being The End of Eternity, the three in the original Foundation trilogy, I, Robot, the first two in the Robot series, and the three in the Galactic Empire series. Go read them, they’re good. And I know good Books. Even if I don’t have a Ph. D."
God help the world if Left Thumb ever gets a Ph.D.
From the blog header:
"Between the two of us, we know everything."
They know everything…
…except how to pay their employees.
They know everything…
…except how to stop talking about Ayn Rand, Peter Jackson, and Battlestar Galactica over and over again. Because of course, heaven forbid, there might still be a few readers who aren’t sure about where they stand on Atlas Shrugged. We’d like to meet those readers and then enroll them in English language literacy courses. We also would like to enroll the Thumbs in finance courses, but—surprise!—they don’t have the funds to support such a venture.
From Movie Review: Into Great Silence:
"We expected a sort of visual meditation, a serene slice of art… but as it continued, the film degenerated into a celebration of racism, military supremacy, crassness, disrespect towards elders, and senseless propaganda."
When we were hired by Two Thumbs Sideways, we expected a blog of erudite musings, a sophisticated slice of commentary and criticism…but as our involvement continued, the blog degenerated into a celebration of…the Thumbs themselves.
Now, a word about that whole documentary fiasco—that was back when we still read each post thoroughly. (Now we just skim to get the gist and look for references to us.) And so, soon after we read that review, we went out and rented Into Great Silence and watched it. Perhaps we were feeling particularly depraved; perhaps we were simply curious—we watched it. And we didn’t see any disrespect towards elders. None at all. We’re not saying the Carthusians don’t hang an old guy out to dry every once in a while, but it’s not shown here. Yes, there was racism in the film. Yes, the charges of military supremacy, crassness and senseless propaganda are all well-founded—but no disrespect towards elders. None. Get it right, Thumbs. Here we are thinking these monks eat old people for brunch on camera, and there’s absolutely nothing of the sort. Shame on you.
From Counting Things:
"Hang in there, Right Thumb. In 2066 we’ll finally have someone to bring us the coffee."
Guess what? They don’t even drink coffee. Something about the effects of caffeine on over-sized brains. We're doubtful.
We spoke to Left Thumb soon after this post, and he clearly took special pleasure in the fact that 2066 is exactly 1000 years after William the Conqueror invaded England from his domain in Normandy. (Which, coincidentally, William’s Viking ancestors had been offered by France when they agreed to stop raiding French shores. Typical French. “Stop hurting us—we’ll give you half our land! Our chocolate and women, too!”) Now Left Thumb saw some significance in this, thinking that it meant that Two Thumbs Sideways was destined to become the cyber/neurological/telepathic equivalent of the British Empire or some other such nonsense. We tell you this so that if he starts to write in Old English (and, in characteristic fashion, doesn’t explain himself) you’ll have some inkling of a notion why.
But the truth is, there still won't be much hope for that.
[Apollo] + {Achilles}
Okay, so this is the models’ turn to write (for non-faithful readers, check here to catch up on who the models are, and here to see why it is our turn to write.) We don’t get much of a chance to say things—for some reason as soon as people see us they just start blabbering about some fellow named Apollo—so we’re pretty excited to get our entire own post. We would have been more excited by money, but whatever.
So we thought we would give you our humble (we stress that word) thoughts on the literature of this web log’s creators. We’ll jump from post to post, picking representative samples of their thoughtfulness. Or lack thereof. We stress that we rarely disagree with what is said (particularly when they start talking about us). But they are still idiots. Here’s what we mean.
From The Supercilious Snicker and the Smug Smile:
"We here at Two Thumbs Sideways…"
They say this every time. What are these guys? Two owners of a Midwestern saloon?
"…are what you might call... elitists."
Hah. They wish they were!
"We feel bad about this. Really we do."
We bet they don’t.
"It isn't our fault we were born with such gargantuan brains."
Ah. Finally some humility!
"Blame our parents. Seriously. Blame them. We do."
Actually, here we must agree. Did their parents just take a vacation for the entire period of time when kids are supposed to develop self-awareness?
From Robber and Robbed: The Russians Are Coming:
"Most people don’t realize this, but it wasn’t the English-speaking world that first came up with the whole totalitarian, thought-suppressing, vaguely familiar and mildly repetitive dystopian book idea."
Most people also don’t realize that most of the salt in the ocean is Calcium Carbonate, not table salt. But they don’t seem to attach much importance to that…
"It was the Russkies."
The balance of the article will claim the U.S. is still waging a cold war against Russia. And yet Left Thumb is the one who just blamed them for inventing thought-suppressing dystopias. We don’t claim to be brilliant, so explain that one to us.
"Oh, we may smile and wave when a Russian bomber flies by. We might have redirected our nukes, we might be hobnobbing with their cosmonauts on the International Space Station, we might even invite Putin and Medvedev over for Iran-bashing and vodka—but beneath the pleasant handshakes and warm promises of continued cooperation, we have our collective, metaphorical fingers ever so defiantly crossed."
Actually, other than the ISS part… we do none of these things. Or at least, we personally cannot remember waving as a Russian bomber flew by. (What is it with Left Thumb and the Russians, anyway?)
From A Conversation with the Devil:
"In fact, do a Google search for Ayn Rand and you will be completely inundated by the inane."
We actually did this. Turns out, they were right. We were inundated by the inane!
From Robber and Robbed: Rubber Ducky Derivatives:
"But I'm not going to talk about that at any great length today. Frankly, encapsulating the sheer outrage (some might even say diabolical plot) that surrounds Oliver! winning the 1968 Academy Award for Best Picture would take the aid of Left Thumb. Not because I, Right Thumb, could not list the multifarious and multitudinous facets of this atrocity. No, Left Thumb and I are perfectly capable of doing that on our own. But neither of us could handle the psychological damage without the comfort of another human being who understands. So the Greatest Movie Atrocity of All Time will have to wait for a day when the Thumbs are united. Today the quarry is not quite so unspeakable."
We are seriously confused by what Right Thumb means when he says, “I’m not going to talk about that at any great length today.” Great length for him must be something like a 65 page research paper, and even then he might call that a brief intro to the topic at hand…
From Shameful Listing of Things:
"Sometimes, making a list of favorite films or books or rollercoasters is as opprobrious as allowing a pack of peasants and griffins to defeat your half dozen azure dragons. Other times it is only about as shameful as letting ancient BEE-moths defeat your azure dragons."
We doubt you have any clue what any of this means. This probably never occurs to the Thumbs. Ever.
From Counting Things:
"- Number of Isaac Asimov books that are worth reading: 10. Those being The End of Eternity, the three in the original Foundation trilogy, I, Robot, the first two in the Robot series, and the three in the Galactic Empire series. Go read them, they’re good. And I know good Books. Even if I don’t have a Ph. D."
God help the world if Left Thumb ever gets a Ph.D.
From the blog header:
"Between the two of us, we know everything."
They know everything…
…except how to pay their employees.
They know everything…
…except how to stop talking about Ayn Rand, Peter Jackson, and Battlestar Galactica over and over again. Because of course, heaven forbid, there might still be a few readers who aren’t sure about where they stand on Atlas Shrugged. We’d like to meet those readers and then enroll them in English language literacy courses. We also would like to enroll the Thumbs in finance courses, but—surprise!—they don’t have the funds to support such a venture.
From Movie Review: Into Great Silence:
"We expected a sort of visual meditation, a serene slice of art… but as it continued, the film degenerated into a celebration of racism, military supremacy, crassness, disrespect towards elders, and senseless propaganda."
When we were hired by Two Thumbs Sideways, we expected a blog of erudite musings, a sophisticated slice of commentary and criticism…but as our involvement continued, the blog degenerated into a celebration of…the Thumbs themselves.
Now, a word about that whole documentary fiasco—that was back when we still read each post thoroughly. (Now we just skim to get the gist and look for references to us.) And so, soon after we read that review, we went out and rented Into Great Silence and watched it. Perhaps we were feeling particularly depraved; perhaps we were simply curious—we watched it. And we didn’t see any disrespect towards elders. None at all. We’re not saying the Carthusians don’t hang an old guy out to dry every once in a while, but it’s not shown here. Yes, there was racism in the film. Yes, the charges of military supremacy, crassness and senseless propaganda are all well-founded—but no disrespect towards elders. None. Get it right, Thumbs. Here we are thinking these monks eat old people for brunch on camera, and there’s absolutely nothing of the sort. Shame on you.
From Counting Things:
"Hang in there, Right Thumb. In 2066 we’ll finally have someone to bring us the coffee."
Guess what? They don’t even drink coffee. Something about the effects of caffeine on over-sized brains. We're doubtful.
We spoke to Left Thumb soon after this post, and he clearly took special pleasure in the fact that 2066 is exactly 1000 years after William the Conqueror invaded England from his domain in Normandy. (Which, coincidentally, William’s Viking ancestors had been offered by France when they agreed to stop raiding French shores. Typical French. “Stop hurting us—we’ll give you half our land! Our chocolate and women, too!”) Now Left Thumb saw some significance in this, thinking that it meant that Two Thumbs Sideways was destined to become the cyber/neurological/telepathic equivalent of the British Empire or some other such nonsense. We tell you this so that if he starts to write in Old English (and, in characteristic fashion, doesn’t explain himself) you’ll have some inkling of a notion why.
But the truth is, there still won't be much hope for that.
[Apollo] + {Achilles}
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