Susan saw an ad for this brand-new Dreamworks movie, Trolls World Tour, and just had to tell me about it. So I watched this trailer. Zacherly always said the trailers weren’t as painful as the movies.
This appears to be a ham-fisted preachy story of Diversity as an end in itself, “different is better,” and somehow they left out a Drag Queen Story Hour. The trolls have six different kinds of music for six different kinds of trolls–that doesn’t really sound all that diverse, does it?–and the bad-guy Rock Troll says “I’m gonna destroy all music except for rock” so the good-guy Trolls have to stop this from happening and I think I’m going to be sick.
And it’s all this cheesy animated stuff, no live actors on the screen, celebrity voice-overs, and I’m sure it makes kids dumber when they see it. Most of the stuff in our pop culture makes you dumber.
Why do we keep making movies like this? Can’t you just read your children Freddy Goes to Florida? Or just, like, tell them a story that you make up as you go along? Do they really have to watch these phony movies?
Yeahbut, yeahbut! You just turn on the movie and your kids are out of your hair for an hour!
My mother could have let television raise her children. I’m mighty glad she didn’t.
How does this happen? Within the space of a single lifetime, a nation sheds its core beliefs, gouges out the very heart of its culture: how can that be?
We watch a lot of British TV. In it we can see the culture changing. When I was born, Britain was a Christian country. Now I don’t know what it is. I’ll have to put my mind to work before I can fully describe what I see.
Some of you are reading this in Britain. Maybe you can tell me: what happened to British Christianity?
Is it as bad as it looks on TV?
I had to accompany my wife to the doctor’s this afternoon, and sit in the waiting room with the TV. It’s just so awful. And even if it weren’t awful, you can make anything awful by interrupting it with commercials featuring goofy people dancing maniacally to horrible music. King Lear couldn’t survive that.
Then there was the show, in between commercials. Incredibly Diverse FBI SWAT team takes down murderous gang of evil white guys. I find it very hard to believe that FBI SWAT teams are staffed by hundred-pound twinkies with perfect hair who can easily flatten any 250-pound male villain foolish enough to challenge her. I also find it hard to believe that every major ethnic group is, in fact, represented in every SWAT team.
So the Asian-American good guy finally gets the upper hand of the loathsomely vicious top villain (who’s already killed several innocent people) and claps a judo choke hold on him–a real one, to my surprise: hadaka-jime, if you want to know–and is about to finish him off for good when one of the twinkies says, “Stop! You’re better than that!” Bruce Willis would’ve said “Not really,” and it’d be lights out for the bad guy. But Bruce Willis wouldn’t’ve been caught dead in this extravaganza. Ditto Denzel Washington. I am so glad Denzel doesn’t do TV. There are jobs for these guys in Obann, if they want ’em.
It’s not that contemporary commercial TV underestimates the viewers’ intelligence. Their position seems to be that the viewers have no intelligence at all.
And I am sure there are shows out there that make this one look like a Mensa entrance exam.
Last night we had to give up on the new Father Brown season. The episode only took about six minutes to turn into a commercial for abortion; so we aborted it.
Yeesh, is there a lot of crap out there!
I mean, they can’t even make Father Brown anymore without Far Left Crazy preaching. But among the worst pieces of trash we’ve ever seen was this from 2014–American Horror Story. I will watch a lot of toxic tosh because it’s my job to try to understand and explain what’s going on with our culture, but this exceeds the limit.
When Godless people make Godless movies, this is what you get.
Public education has not gotten more Christian-friendly since Colin Gunn filmed this documentary in 2011.
I did a lot of teaching in the public schools. I saw a lot of things that made me mad. But Gunn saw even more. This is a deeply penetrating documentary. You can watch it on the Chalcedon website, the whole thing:
Why, why, why do Christians continue to send their children to public schools owned by persons who hate Christianity and want to wipe it out? Who fill children’s heads with “transgender,” “gay,” “America is racist!” and all the rest of that slop?
And you can forget about being “salt and light” in this arena. You’ll be fired so fast, it’ll make your head spin.
I can’t help thinking we have made God work very hard to keep our country afloat, to preserve us in spite of our multitude of sins. It’s a miracle of Providence that we’re still here.
But I do think the Lord would be pleased if we took up some of the work ourselves.
There, I’ve warned you!
A lot of us will watch movies today instead of the Stupor Bowl.
Here’s a movie not to watch.
It’s amazing, how many errors you can cram into one short film. Was it an experiment? Had John Bowen eaten oysters that had gone bad?
Just look out the window. You’re bound to see something better than this movie.
My wife was sick all day Sunday, so when she rallied enough to want to watch something, last night, I was happy to let her choose the show. She chose the new episode of The Brokenwood Mysteries, made in New Zealand. We’d watched several seasons’ worth, and liked it.
Now it has become a show in which characters actually babble about “diversity” and “inclusion” as real things that are important in their lives. The setting is a small town in which there are no intact families. Not even one. And you can always tell who’s going to turn out to be the murderer, or at least a victim who richly deserved it, because it’ll be a character–usually a “Christian,” whatever they think they mean by that–who stands out because he’s the only one not on full-throttle, cartwheel-turning support for everything sodomy. One individual–naturally, the wisest, wittiest, and most benign human being in Brokenwood–is billed as the town’s “first gay mayor.” As if he were to start a whole dynasty of homosexual mayors. Even the little old lady who takes walks is, like, totally woke.
It’s indescribably dreary. The episode ended with the police counseling the estranged lesbian pair to give it another go because “love wins” or something.
Can’t blame Hollywood for this travesty. This is a New Zealand caper, all the way.
But is this what screenwriters and “entertainment” honchos really, truly, think our lives should be? What could be more depressing than the flat, barren, dead sameness of “diversity”?
But if people really lived like that, it wouldn’t be long before there were no more people.
All because we didn’t pay a carbon tax!
Actually, I seem to have even less patience with Hollywood motormouth fat-heads than I had when I first posted this.
Now I find myself ashamed of liking the first two Terminator movies because the guy who made them, James Cameron, is such a doofus.
Quick, quick, everybody! Get your gender reassigned before it’s the end o’ the world! Give government fantastic sweeping powers! Holy Mother Gaea demands it!
False gods always demand more of us than the real God ever has.
Well, here we are again, first day of another year. We’ve got rack of lamb for dinner; and, as is our custom, we’ll watch The Time Machine this afternoon, the 1960 movie starring Rod Taylor and Yvette Mimieux.
Don’t get me wrong: the theology of this movie is totally off-base. A 19th-century inventor creates a time machine and travels some 800,000 years into the future. There he finds the human race split into two separate but unequal offshoots. The hideous Morlocks provide the childlike Eloi with everything they need–can you say “Universal Basic Income”?–and then… eat them. Both races have been debased by the evil system they’ve devised. Sound familiar?
The thing that makes this movie work is the fantastic sets, and special effects, by George Pal, altogether believable. You have to take the story with a boxcar-load of grains of salt, but the sets are awesome. I used to dream of finding Morlock-holes in Edgar woods. I’m rather glad I didn’t.
Anyway, this is one of those movies that totally succeeds in providing 90 minutes’ worth of pure escape.
Just don’t take it seriously. The only thing serious about it is its errors. But we’re hip to those, so we enjoy it.
If you sometimes buy presents for your loved ones right after Christmas–usually because events conspired to make you late!–this series of young readers’ books might be just the ticket.
The Borrowers and its sequels, by Mary Norton, is a treat for any reader, young or old or in-between, whose imagination hasn’t ossified.
Now, at last, you’ll understand what happened to all those little green army men who went missing from your toy-box, way back when.