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Iron Man 3


Iron Man 3

If you ever give someone a twenty-foot stuffed animal for a present, you might want to consider that you're doing so more out of a desire to affront the receiver than please him/her, and that also possibly you're communicating that you're the one -- the denied child -- in gigantic need of love yourself. It could pass as just making up for long neglect, as it is does in this film, but when you're following up by fooling your lover (here with Pepper engaging with simulacrum Tony while the real one pulls his strings in his den) and then maybe not-so-accidently fixing it so that your den toys substitute as nightmare horrors to scare the Dickens out of her, the truth is that you may be the one who is frustrated and in anger, and that you are unconsciously being driven to communicate it as loudly and aggressively as possible. Tony Stark is in need of attendance -- being ready to lose his life in favor of saving the world and finding himself in some other dimension against the onslaught of aliens while with the Avengers, has him the mercy of reoccuring anxiety attacks -- he's got PTSD, as bad as any out of Afghanistan. This might seem difficult to identify with, but it's not really, as you've got a Depression on your hands which is making sure you suffer the incredible aggrievement of actually feeling more and more without support while our awareness of the particular historical situation we're in increases. You need a manger to lie in, not your cold removed den, and this is what Tony gets, as he finds himself removed from the world in some small town down south, where he gets to be slotted in with some small boy's modest home and essentially just talk bubble gum and comic books and harken to early-life Christmas scenes -- so the Savior taking small liberties, in the fortuned house to host him. Here's where it begins to become clear to the astute that what you're still hurt from is not what you're macho-maintaining saying it is, but maybe out of the things that are floating up while on lay-away -- topics/concerns like boys without fathers, bullies, and the discourse you're floating always at your new bud children which said a slightly different way is the sort to flatten a child hard. Tony abandons the expected needs of his new boy-friend about half a dozen times; he clearly is taking pleasure doing so. This is supposed to be just cover for the fact that he's the kind of guy who couldn't care more -- but of course if this was you and what you're actually enjoying, using as a remedy, is that here repeatedly you've got a subject who has to be neglected and abandoned "you" while you skirt off satiated and unaffected, this is the excuse you'd use too. If you get too much into this remedy you might neglect to cover what is supposedly afflicting you -- as happens in this movie when you take that wormhole that opened out of space that afflicted our universe with multitudes of replica aliens that is ostensibly the source of Tony's trauma, and have it be inspiration for your own horrible revenge upon foes as your penthouse's den hole opens and out comes an armada of iron men to kill some other's dream. When you're parted from your manger and back in adult digs and engaging with your lover, you might make her constituted momentarily as if out of nightmare things herself -- like what happens to Pepper in this movie, where she finishes as ripped older woman, dragon-blooded, and android (she's sporting parts of Iron Man's armor). Basically a gargoyle, but for a moment not removed from you, but akin, and family -- you're of wormholes and annihilating/abandoning/table-turning revenging things yourself. Apportioned some "equipment" from pre-birth nightmares -- actually the greatest sort.

Further: The dangerous Orient is made to seem a harmless old man who smells up bathrooms, a disappointment worse than the revealed wizard in the Depression's "Oz." Is this because he's not ripped like everyone else or because it's not "time" (who are we kidding if we haven't half set it up already as our next greatest enemy?) for China? Or are we expected to implicitly appreciate that while left behind, that stinking shitcloud of odor is accumulating, and will be source of inspiration for the next worm-hole hell to chastise the character-armor we're using against our times into malfunction -- maybe the false villain really could only be the true one once we've been made to associate him with decrepity, bathrooms and shit -- spouted hell, not singular and contained (-- the hero's-only denizens?)?

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