And me – I have a month of blogging! Some said it is pretensious, bombastic, maybe snobbish, I’d say it is true, it is very ambitious. What I am following through these short posts that are waywardly not yet admitting visual graphics, video content, video arguments, is that I contest, firstly my aim has been to make it clear, to let people distinguish what is me and what is categorically non-me. People are premeditatedly confounding identities, one is to be a scooper of honoraria while the other is to be kept under submission, silenced, neglected, ignored, laurels being attributed to the vicious dominating one. Hyperlinks are being made to irrelevant stories that only worsen the situation and stigmatize deeply leaving profound scars and dark disappointments.
It has been quite a tendency lately to remake the old movies, or more recently a fad of rewriting old novels. Concerning films, I might agree there could be different perspectives from different movie makers with different artistic views, with different sets of casts, with different focus and accents placed upon events, characters, derived from the same source novel. What I strongly disagree with, is the rewriting of a different epoch novels. I simply cannot imagine how someone even a skillful one from America could rewrite <Sense and Sensibility> by Jane Austin or <Pride and Prejudice>; from the six novels by the 18th century writer only was left untouched, no one dared to fail in persuading us, the XXI century readers and lovers of those artful feminine novels about the futility or maybe even the denigrating and ungratifying act of attempting to do it. If someone would borrow maybe only the title but the content, context would be quite different another type of prose, setting, dimension.
I admired the meditative, contemplative style of a class and an epoch, the mannerism plus realist movement particulars. I think nowadays generations would not miss much the exchange of politeness visits among clans that were lasting for weeks. With an abundance of details did she describe, an emblematic scene, the arrival of one clan in visit to a family and the cloud of expensive white dresses that were overwhelming, and the indispensable for that society balls. And that sort of romantism and longing, and patience and resistance to temptation, would be interpreted by a modern fellow as sheer vampirism or sadism in an epoch of a ubiquitous reach of technologies, augmented reality and instantaneous synchronization of connectivity.
Nowadays there is very little room for privacy, people are comfortable with it basically. They admit this intrusion into their lives, a compromise, in return for their invading many others’ ones in turn. Blame it on cutting edge technologies that are conquering definitely and subjecting us. One thing is to be sit in front of a ready configured camera to do that shooting and say whatever comes on one’s mind and jibbing and waiting for likes to pour in, and a totally different thing is to receive that camera in one’s everyday life routine, even if that life is a well-balanced one and well-regulated and moderated in everything, and sober to the marrow of the bone and quiet, whispered even.
There is another tendency now, letting a slice of one’s life to be seen, not scripted in advance, and not a reality show either. Glimpses, of a dog yawning, a cat sleeping, we from behind eating pumpkin pies brought by our folks from province, we exchanging some trite jokes. We, who are educated, who do care about our privacy, and image, who have what to secure dearly. Formatting a little bit what we are delivering to the insane curiosity of a public, framing this epoch, turning back the atomic electronic clock two centuries before so as to look decent and mannered could indeed be an elegant digression a solution.