This article is a continuation from Project X And The Age Of YouTube – Hit And Home Run – and is the final piece in the series.
If teens are driven to debauchery and crime by a movie, what do you think they’re driven to when, day in, day out, they watch the scenarios of the economy getting trashed by unaccountable bigwigs, whom justice can’t/won’t touch?
Trash? Or Compost?
For the record, the film Project X comes with a disclaimer. At the start of the feature, a statement — typed and narrated — makes it perfectly clear that the events depicted are fictional, and that they should not be attempted at home — just in case some kid decides to copy them and some neighborhood gets trashed and the studio gets sued over it. (We saw what happened in Berlin, Germany, in 2011, because someone screwed up her privacy settings).
Still, a bunch of copycat parties were thrown all over the place, some of which ended in mayhem:
Detractors may have plenty to say about that. They claim that movies like Project X spread evil and mayhem, and blame the world’s ills on the entertainment industry, an industry clearly hellbent on immortalizing everything that’s queer and twisted in life.
To an extent, they may be right. The entertainment industry — and all mass media — are out of control, playing into a vicious circle that demands more eye-catching, mindless productions. But the sword cuts both ways. It’s easy to point the finger at the entertainer and say: you did it! It’s satisfying to find scapegoats without thinking things through. It’s tempting to claim that ‘The Dark Knight Rises is behind the Aurora shooting — just as Marilyn Manson was behind the Columbine shooting — so ban that movie and all products like it because they popularize the nasty aspects of life.
Here’s what I have to say about that: If teens are being driven to debauchery and crime by a movie, what do you think they’re driven to when, day in, day out, they watch the scenarios of the economy getting trashed by unaccountable bigwigs, whom justice can’t/won’t touch? Think they might get an idea or two when they watch that nasty script play out without repercussions?
Sorry, preachers. Your holier-than-thou attitudes have turned around and bitten you in the backside. Ass, in the vernacular. Want to protest something? Protest the real corruption, not its silver-screen representation. Put your money where your mouth is and make your anger count where it matters. Or join the frustrated choke-a-palooza and count yourselves among the ranks of the ineffectively livid:
“Ma! The meatloaf! F*ck!!”
But let’s not end on a Will Ferrell choke, funny as it may be — in its trademark bizarre way. Let’s go back to Robin Williams and his mind-bending routine on baseball and psychedelic drugs from his genial stand-up show Weapons of Self Destruction. I mean, we’re on the subject of bats and drugs and exaggerated perspectives (see previous article: Hit And Home Run) so let’s take advantage. Let’s knock this argument out of the park.
Ears open, mind sharp.