Firm believer that everyone needs a little sha-la-la-la-la-la in their daily routine.
Filmmaker and student studying Film & Television at NYU Tisch School of the Arts.
I shall post whatever shizzle tickles my fancy.
Living in a world before war with the eskimos.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
Finally an Eternal Sushine pic that doesn’t look like every single other one.
Excuse my midnight, only barely coherent, wonderings
Michael Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a tale about forgetting, and how even though it may seem like you don’t want to remember some things, memories will prove to be beneficial in the end. Even more interestingly, all the recipients of the film’s memory-erasing procedure, though technically unaware of any experiences they shared with their former “lovers” (if we’re going to go there), still had all the leftover feelings and emotions inside of them. The emotions that surpassed these memories, stories, and thoughts weren’t lost, but simply excruciatingly inexplicable without their context. Even though the thoughts were no longer shared, the results of these thoughts withstood. That’s what boggled the minds of audiences around the world: Beyond the mismatched, non-linear plot, it was the endurance of emotion even if thoughts were taken away, vanished.
That’s what made everyone so scared. We all feel these emotions that were obviously strong but inexplicably so. Did we undergo some sort of brain surgery? Or are our emotional memories stronger than our technical memories? That’s probably the case, but if so, what happens to all those thoughts we dispose of? What about the thoughts we think are horrible or irrelevant or just silly things we don’t care if we forget? There’s a fucking memory dryer. First dryers steal our socks and now they steal our memories. But there has to be a fucking dryer. It’s too scary to think of a world where memories just leave, just fucking leave. And we try really really hard to make sure no one forgets, so we always have proof that the socks existed. Like in Into The Wild, “Happiness is only real when shared” …. everything has to be shared to be real, valid, purposeful, useful. There’s needs to be proof it existed. It’s just so scary when the only proof we have is the left over emotions. So that’s why people keep diaries and tell stories and write blogs and even make art (though arguably art is partial to the emotional aspect of memory, and even in the creative realm beyond memory, but that doesn’t work with my damn argument or whatever this is so fuck)… but even in art’s case… we’re all just so fucking afraid of having any little piece of our existence thrown away, and yet we all claim we all want to forget so much.
Fucking people. Fuck me.
I (heart) Huckabees
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
You, The Living
Exit Through the Gift Shop
Man On Wire
It Might Get Loud…?
(Hey at least I narrowed it down to 8) ????