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The feeling now is of the scurried, pissing on the fallen

We know these myths, we encounter them every day embedded in in our language, our culture and our psyches. No matter how beautiful and heartfelt the LOTR trilogy was, nothing new is revealed by them. (ThisMorningofJune, response to post, Dude, where’s my LOTR?,” Salon, 6 January 2010)

Exposure to the truly beautiful and heartfelt can very much mean being exposed to something new, something we haven't really known before. There is a lot of heart in LOTR -- a lot of impetus to imagine the preferred psychological state as open, accepting, giving. I think the goodness in this is why we must try for a decade-end push to ensure the memory of this movie isn't stamped over by those who HAD been shut-down but have re-emerged -- now that the film's protectors have flown -- who complain of plot deviations from the book. The feeling now is of the scurried, pissing on the fallen giant. Ever see "Can't buy me love"? -- it's the geek gone star, possibly in position to be dropped on back down to loserdom, to absolutely everyone's loss.

It is a manipulative film. You can feel Jackson trying to make you dependent on him, to count you amongst a fandom which means being grossly infantile, subject to shame. I understand; and there is enough of it to make me want to polish off the uncouth bastard and let him muck shit about in someone else's backyard. But there IS huge good in the film, and it's worth our fighting for.

Link: “Dude, where’s my LOTR?” (Salon)

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