Peeping Toms, Dicks and Harrys

I can and will do anything to avoid work. I have loads of it waiting for me upstairs but I still prefer to do nothing on my pc here in the basement. I’ve been randomly looking through my brother’s book-marked websites, not because I’m suspicious of him or any such reason. I mean, he can do what he wants, see what he wants, it’s none of my concern. But I’m bored, and I have hundreds of better things to do which I really don’t feel like doing and this is the only way I can think up to waste time.

Anyway, one of the randomly clicked sites features trailers of upcoming Hollywood movies. It also features gossip but who really cares how Hayden Panitierre (I swear she sounds like a bakery) carries herself out of her limo? I don’t. But for some reason it’s on the front page. If it wasn’t so funny, it would have been sad. Khaer, I’m digressing. I saw something extremely disturbing on the website (which I’d like to share with anyone khwar enough to read this blog) and strangely it wasn’t Britney Spears. This is the promotional poster of upcoming movie “One Missed Call”

I don’t know about anybody else, but movie-makers obsession with showing the most disgustingly horrifying things does, like the blogger, “creep me out”. I watched the first installment of the Saw franchise recently and the only thing I could think, by the end of the movie was “Why?! How pointlessly macabre and sadistic could the writer, director, and producer get?” Saw is a senseless gore-fest meaning NOTHING. In fact, I would refer anybody who enjoyed watching Saw and all its successors to another movie “Peeping Tom”*. Why do we enjoy watching people suffer needlessly? What insane, homophobic tendency draws us to such trash? I’m not the sort of person who feels that the only purpose of cinema is to depict life. Just living life is pretty all-consuming anyway; I prefer not to spend hours analyzing it. I like escapist cinema, but this consistent need to feed one’s inner sadist is not just disturbing, it speaks volumes on our growing insensitivity to other people’s pain, be it physical or mental, because practically nothing can be as bad as the movies. Do we really have an inner, subconscious serial killer who’s cravings need to be fed?

I don’t know…Imagine an innocent victim strapped to a table with the “psychopath” casually dissecting parts of his/her body and we’re watching it all happen. And there’s no camera, and no director to yell “cut” and the blood is real and the screaming is real and the villain is real. What they show should not be taken as “just a movie”. You can’t get up and forget the pain. If you manage to, you’re not that different from the killer.

*In this seriously scary masterpiece, the killer makes videos of how he kills his victims and watches them over and over again. By the end we feel just as disgusting and perverted as him. And we are. We enjoy the thrill as much as he does. Yuck.


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