[Here is an article from a young Australian gentlemen who has succumbed to despair. I approve of despair.]
Its Been Done
Hi, my name is Andrew Keevers, Im a high school student in grade 10 in Australia, and have been a cynic and a fan of Irony Central for a fair while now. My little world consists of school, sleep and massive amounts of caffeine, and the odd variation. Part of my little world is a Drama class I take for school.
I enjoy drama a lot, and part of the course is being able to write a Log Book, covering all the interesting developments we make in class. Of course, me being me, my book is not only full of developments but also a substantial amount of bitching. In fact, it is beyond substantial, its more along the lines of a mammoth amount of bitching, and without creativity this bitching tends to get very repetitive, boring and stupid very quickly.
So one night, during a caffeine induced insomnia session, at roughly 2 am, I decided to sit down, and try and find something creative to write. I began to contemplate my life, and how I could draw on it as an example for a deep, profound statement. I have thought for a long time that my life seemed to mirror an episode of Dawsons Creek or something equally as horrible and stupid. Something soapie, with the sole aim being to turn your brain into a blob of something which resembles wet cardboard, and sweep up pre-teen girls in the idea of dating and true love.
And then it occurred to me what if Im on TV? I mean, fuck, how weird and original would that be if not for a reality, then a screenplay or a book. I mean, that idea is so out of left field being on the air and unaware I could make an absolute fucking killing and get all stuff Ive ever wanted. Then it occurred to me its already been done.
So if I wasnt to get some great idea for a script about a man unknowingly on TV, then what? I know! One of those deep movies the critics love. You know the type: One child with cancer and their struggle against the oppressive regime in a world not far removed from our own, in a time not far from now, in a society hooked on LAN parties and pornography, one child tries to make it count.
Fuck yes, that would fucking own. Heck, Id probably win 6 Oscars, a fat dozen Golden Globes and twice as many AFI awards. Especially it was an indie film entered in a small film festival in some remote American mountain town with a population of 50, no running water, and an annual event known as The Moonshine Screening.
Or, even better, if it was like Bowling for Columbine. That would not only make it an indie wonder, deep, meaningful, and multi award winning marvel, it would also make it New, Innovative and Cutting Edge. Or at least it would be if Michael Moore hadnt done it first.
In fact, come to think about it, just about everything has been done already. Sometimes its noticed the first time around, and the other times it has been done in some remote eastern country like Ultra-Uni-Mez-Pusta-Uzbekhastian Minor. Thus, yes, it has been done, but nobody knows its been done, except the Hollywood producers who are sent to far eastern countries like Ultra-Uni-Mez-Pusta-Uzbekhastian Minor on the lookout for anything that could be considered New and Innovative and Three thumbs up.
Then they simply rip it off, take it back to the west, and proceed to rehash, recast and repackage it, before releasing it with all the bells and whistles, extra special never before seen footage, and, metaphorically and literally, Still in the shrinkwrap. Then, just a couple of months later, they release a collectors gold edition, just to rake in even more as it is sucked up by the commercial world for being so Ground breaking.
Real time? Been done
Multi-Perspective? Been done.
One long, continuous take? Been done.
Dont get me wrong, Im not attempting too heavily to knock the American way and be cynical about it all. Oh, no, that comes all too easily. I just get the shits with critics and teachers who search for innovation and deeper meaning where there was never meant to be any. Weve all seen Die Hard. Its not supposed to be deep and meaningful. John Mclean stuck inside a sky scraper facing down terrorists down the barrel of a gun isnt supposed to be a deep metaphor for his battle with his own inner demons. Fuck no, its just an excuse to watch some East German pricks have the living shit blown out of them, with a lot of blood, guts and explosions.
This got me thinking how long has it been since someone told a really great story, just for the sake of it. By my reckoning, its either Raymond E Feists Magician and the following books, or John Marsdens The Tomorrow Series. Ironically, both of these, although not completely original, were rather innovative in the way they twisted realities close to what is, or was known.
But rather now, its the age of sentimental bullshit or renewal and rip-off. We have either One Child With Cancer or Lethal Odor XVII. I figure either way were in for a lot more soggy cardboard.
Peace, and have a nice day.
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