The Lobster

The Lobster crawled aimlessly, with enough invention to keep it moving, in an amusing and somewhat cruel spectacle, but not enough to bring it anywhere. I found myself ever eager for the next grimace, ever reluctant, never assuming or guessing. The Weird does not equal the Good for me in cinema, but at this level of execution it's better than most.

Recent music

Jon Batiste: Spotify's This is Jon Batiste reminds me of a much less interesting Jacob Collier: both are talented and diversely spongey, both understand the science of the song, but neither has anything to say, resulting in generic AI-adjacent compositions. I envied Batiste, before I listened to his music; I want to be the only melodica-wielding jazz/pop pianist; then I watched Soul and grimaced at "you got soul and everybody knows cause it's alright." Plenty of classics sport the dumbest lyrics, but these are especially dumb, and the sounds on the track don't compensate. It isn't the only Batiste song I distinctly dislike, which I think says a lot, given my nonchalance toward the universe of generic music. Of course I'm harsher since I'm simultaneously expecting more from Batiste and, in a corner of my heart, hoping he'll fail. I don't dislike all of his music. "Moon River" was nice in that he added a beat per measure, to lock a lockier groove, and played it simply. I feel I could have played it that well, and that's okay; I don't mind how he played it. Elsewhere I was impressed by some of his instrumental soloing. And his compositions aren't generally bad; they just lack soul, as mine probably would, at this time in my life. I'd be writing just to write, because I can, and for practice.

Oscar Peterson: Night Train was too perfect. "Hymn to Freedom" was mechanical.

Miles Davis: I almost hate Birth of the Cool

Lennie Tristano: Intuition is too chaotic

Phoebe Bridgers: Bo Burnham can do better. Maybe she has a stellar personality -- her voice is great -- but the best song on Spotify's compilation is Bo's. I don't dislike any songs I heard, they just didn't stand out, and Bo stands out.

Steve Reich: I have slight interest in talking as music, or 20 minutes of clapping as music, but some of Reich's works were delightful (the trains, the Cave, Electric Counterpoint, Six Marimbas, and more), particularly when the context is right.

Tortured Poets Department: she keeps writing decent pop songs, but it's hardly inspiring anymore. I have never been an active Swift listener, yet I can identify several cliches she herself created and dated.

Cory Wong: hearing a bunch of Spotify's This Is, it just sounds like good production over mediocre songwriting. I'll have to try the album with Bluebird.

Vulfpeck: I'm disappointed, knowing a couple of highlights and now hearing that they're highlights, but it's certainly far from the last band I'd join.

The Matrix

This was my first time seeing The Matrix. I think it succeeds as a cheesy action movie and as a powerful thought experiment. For me, cheesy action movie isn't the most effective vehicle for a powerful thought experiment, but you can't be original and accessible and effective.

If the Matrix was built well, we wouldn't have any way of knowing we were in it, so we'd just have to live like everyone before us -- hopeful or hopeless, depending entirely on ourselves. If I'd be happier with the blue pill, I'd take it. The red pill delivers some fascinating information, yet leaves you as uninformed as humans outside the movie. It doesn't tell you about God or death. It just tells you about your transitory life. If the blue pill is happier, that's worth more than transitory knowledge. If the red pill told me about the afterlife, I'd consider it, out of pure curiosity, but I doubt it'd be the wiser option, if the blue pill is happier. The thing is, the ignorant option is rarely happier, at least in movies. We can't guarantee people in the Matrix are happier. That makes red the wiser option, as truth reigns when happiness is a horse apiece.

If I was being smart, I'd choose happiness -- by definition, right? If happiness is unclear, I'd choose truth. If you'd soberly choose truth over happiness, I feel like you aren't giving happiness its due credit. If I really consider happiness, I don't envy any righteous person who would choose anything else.

The movie compared us to dinosaurs -- a blip in history -- and there's no reason for me to question that nor to change how I'm living because of it. If humanity is doomed, if the red pill told me death is the end, if we're in the Matrix, none of that should really affect me. All I have is my psychological experience; what happens after or outside it shouldn't affect me.

Stranger Things: Episodes 1 & 2

Like Euphoria last night, this strikes me as good TV. Stranger Things spins a nice tone that converts its copious cliches from tedious to cozy. The plot intrigues me -- hence episode 2 -- although it would have to get very cerebral or philosophical to justify the time, and I'm skeptical it would, considering the broad audience it's harvesting here.

I bet I'd like both series I started this week, each a youthful escape. Neither suggested the level of joy or intrigue I'd demand.

Euphoria: Pilot

This is great television: stylish, energetic, emotionally deep, and totally over the top. Some of the dialogue is dumb, but it's TV, and the euphoria shines through. One wishes one could brush away the trauma and have experienced any slice of that teenage dream. Real high school was stiff with anxiety. Maybe you had one kid in the school with the confidence of everyone in this show. These characters are anxious, sure, but unrealistically inspired.

I don't intend to continue; it feels weird to invest in teenage sexcapades.