May. 19th, 2012

Future &c

May. 19th, 2012 09:23 pm
holdthesky: (Default)
We went to see Dark Shadows which was so-so.

The most depressing thing was the adverts at the start. I can find them really upsetting sometimes.

This batch was cars, and cameras, and girls, and carnivals, and people jumping out of planes and off of cliffs, and cars jumping out of planes, and people photographing carnivals which were jumping out of planes, and people with cameras in cars at carnivals, and planes with girls in going over cliffs, and girls with cameras photographing cars, and so on.

It seemed like a meagre kind of future. I'm never sure what to think. I worry a lot, these days, about the future people are leaving for their kids. And that was a kind of depressing vision. I hope that the advertisers have just lost touch. Because what's scary is that it might be what those young scalliwags actually want. I kind of wonder if the things I've done and experienced and got excited about and shared have just been a waste of time in that future. I'm sure that teenagers of these days would say so. In the words of Alan Moore in the Comic The Birth Caul from A Disease of Language. (// is a frame)

Nightmare of the teenage jobscape, suddenly made stupid, weak and clumsy there amidst the calloused adults. // Some have been there since the were fourteen, due to retire in five more years and never missed a day. // We glimpse the abyss, staring into our discoloured tea-break mugs. We have been shown the contract. // Now we realize what put that look upon our parents faces, that fatigued complaint into their voice. // We are too old not to see their failings and too young to understand or quite forgive. // Our parents do not follow a traditional perspective, growing smaller on approach. Only later will their true scale be apparent. // Find old photographs of both of them in post-war dance halls that are lit by nothing save the dazzle of men's shirts. // Both happy, not much older than ourselves. // We grow afraid.


Watching the Champions League final on mute to Mendelssohn's Fingals Cave. Such compromises are marriages made on, :-).

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