My take on V e r t i g o

Alright, I didn’t think this blog was due yesterday, nor did I think the basis of it was as general as giving opinions. But I am alive, and I have a keyboard under my fingers, so I will not cease to deliver my honest take.

Long story short – it didn’t live up to the hype. If we want to get picky, it didn’t even feel like a film noir. To me, it felt like the story of a man who just got way in over his head after throwing aside his instincts to not get involved. For someone who was said to have been on the force for years, Scot is remarkably stupid. He blew the entire case, failed to not get involved, and made many sloppy mistakes that no self respecting detective would ever have made – like following someone in the same car for days. The simple fact that he was not confronted in this should have been enough of a red flag.

You can’t even be embarrassed at the blunders of the protagonist when he’s cold as ice and really has no likeable character traits. He’s not good with women either. Should have been another red flag when that worked out for him.

For a film noir, we saw very little gunshots, dark alleys, and smoke filled bars. The rap music video I’m watching right now from the early 90s has a more appropriate setting. For a psychological “thriller”, we saw little thrills, and my mental state remains static as a parked cement truck. You ain’t moving it with such a slow paced film.

The changes in the music score were cheesily fitting and made what happened next more predictable; the exact opposite of what a psychological thriller should do to mislead you.

In retrospect, I might have given more respect to the movie without the pretense of hearing it called one of the best film noirs of all time, with you telling me to pay close attention to every detail, as if Alfred Hitchcock was Stanley Kubrick.

There’s not much you could have done to make this appeal to a modern audience without tossing out the whole idea of a film noir. I personally would have loved to have seen an instant death later on in the film via gunshot or car crash – something unrelated to anything seen before in the plot which defies the entire buildup, forcibly ripping you out of any subconscious investment in it. That would have made this a great film by the sheer astonishment of such an ending.

All I can say was good about the movie was a single plot twist, and some technical aspects the average viewer disregards.

There’s the thumbnail of the video I was watching.

See you next time.

The blog that for everyone else was their seventeenth.

I’m a little late on this. Story of my life.

My initial thoughts on the work weren’t really much, but if I had to dig into the reality of it, I’d say it was quite an ambitious project for Walt, considering the length of it, the relevance of it to himself and his philosophy, and the amount of time he actually spent not only writing it but trying to apply his ideals within to his lifestyle and evolve along with this poem.

As far as the sections we were given, being the third and the ninth, I had little to initially conclude seeing as they initially made little sense to me. Still, at this very moment, I do not remember much about what they mean, so I will have to consult my notes to even attempt to satisfy your query.

So in review, section 3 started off mentioning how people were concerned with past and future events but did not concern themselves with the present, the only time which they have direct control of. Walt, being a man bent on self and societal improvement made it very clear through his own examples that others ought to also focus on what they can manipulate in the present day. He went on to talk about how he upholds views of gender equality despite society’s hardline opposition to this belief, backing it up by presenting the plain fact that man and womankind are absolutely necessary to the advancement of a people.

Advancing through the section, he stated how “Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile” speaking of himself. Only a transcendentalist would say such a thing, as most today would regard their being as comprised of parts with good and evil intent; good and bad influences domestic to the body. Walt would have argued this was purely a result of a corrupted society. This doesn’t make logical sense, but so be it. It is the work.

He said his dreams led him to realize what steps he could take to better himself, and he was left with a predicament as to focus on these current steps or be distracted wondering what he could be.

Some lines that stand out among the rest are

“Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my
That they turn from gazing after and down the road,
And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is

This question is what I just covered, and it stood out to me because it feels like a familiar struggle to continue working when you want to reevaluate what it is you’re working towards.

Difficulty? Yes, almost everything about reading and interpreting this work was hard, and when I finish the test based on it, I’ll crack open an iced tea and be glad I’m done with it. You should also crack open a tea once you’re done grading the mess that is my interpretation of the poem.

The Bonus Blog

As you scramble through your feed in disbelief, you come across this post. No, you didn’t ingest something psychedelic earlier.

I absolutely am writing this blog just because I’m bored and don’t really have much critically impending work to be busy with. I suppose I could catch up on projects in Drawing, but you know how it is. I got time.

But what if I don’t? It’s been on my mind recently how I can be mentally screaming at myself to get up and do work, but on the outside, I’m just chilling. If I ever look at you, and you can tell I’m not paying attention by the dead look on my face, then that means I’m lost in thought and not aware of anything immediately around me, but at the same time I might be obsessing over the realization of my lack of productivity despite my quality of work, or something darker. I could be fighting a whole war in my head, trying to think straight only to be tormented by my willpower spiraling out of reach, but all you see is – 🙂

It’s sad. I’ve been depressed. All I can really do is carry on and tell myself it’ll be OK because I’m headed in the right direction. I have clothes and food at home, my grades are good, I’m not caught in a brutal civil war, my government, although prying, is not a glaringly obvious threat to my well being on the surface. Life’s bad, but life’s good. All I really need is the introduction of some factor to make my life more efficient, and not some tragic appearance that brings with it an unforeseen struggle.

In recent years it’s been more of the latter barging into my existence, but I’m not even close to losing hope given the fact that I really do seem wiser as time goes on. I can critique my past like the most educated of judges, but when it comes to even the present day, I don’t take much for granted and usually take it easy. Have I lulled myself into a false sense of security? Do I need to make a move this second to save myself from an otherwise inevitable unremarkable life?

These are questions I ask myself on a regular basis. If you could peek into my mind it would be the seemingly shallowest unestimatably bottomless chasm of thought processes, hopes, dreams, presuppositions, upheld morals, broken morals, and other neurological things you could never fully relate to.

I guess that’s how we all are. Maybe.

Honestly I have no idea.

If you want to help me out, then the next time you see me, remind me that I have something to take care of as soon as possible and that putting it aside mentally is unhealthy. If everyone I knew was a little harder on me and went out of their way to encourage me I might have less to worry about.

Now it’s at five hundred words.

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