time to unplug
I'm starting to think that art has come to an end. Or to put it another way: What happens when people have extracted all the creativity from itself? Why is it that more and more movies are being remade? What happens when art becomes consciences of its own form?
I ask these questions coming off a 3-day barrage of cover tunes, and previews about the newly made movies--adaptations--of older films. Everything seems bland, done before, jaded. We're spoon-fed mindless dialogues. Or to put it another way: I'm turning off the fucking cable.
I ask these questions coming off a 3-day barrage of cover tunes, and previews about the newly made movies--adaptations--of older films. Everything seems bland, done before, jaded. We're spoon-fed mindless dialogues. Or to put it another way: I'm turning off the fucking cable.
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