I don’t want a new TV series. I think the books and the movies are enough. I know I am not alone in this regard. There are many people who feel the same. But there are people who want this new series and I cannot blame them. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to watch the Hobbits, the Elves, or the Dwarfs. To hear the music, see the places–I do want to so much.
But one thing reading Lord of The Rings taught me was with time, everything grand and magical starts to fade and the world moves on–the old picture remains a memory. It reminds me of the quote I came across C.S. Lewis (Letters to Malcolm).
And the joke, or tragedy, of it all is that these golden moments in the past, which are so tormenting if we erect them into a norm, are entirely nourishing, wholesome, and enchanting if we are content to accept them for what they are, for memories. Properly bedded down in a past which we do not miserably try to conjure back, they will send up exquisite growths. Leave the bulbs alone, and the new flowers will come up. Grub them up and hope, by fondling and sniffing, to get last year’s blooms, and you will get nothing. “Unless a seed die…”
How greatly this quote mirrored the current situation of this epic. It might even be the cynic inside of me talking; trying to dispell any sort of achievement which might be found in the new series, but this cynicism comes from a place of love and genuine concern. That is what I wanted to say. Here it lies.
All the world’s one great stage
And all the greats have left the stage
This is what I always say to myself when I see some stupidity or complete lack of moral integrity in the world. But, today is a little different for this stupidity comes from a review site, Kirkus Reviews, since 1933. Kirkus Reviews may have been great in the past, but it is now a very cowardly place and if not cowardly, unprofessional.
A little bit of context first. There is a YA book called American Hearts by Laura Moriarty which is under fire recently. The kicker is not even out yet. All these ‘complaints’ come from a group of the YA readers community called Culture Cops. If you ask me, that is an apt name for how redundant it sounds. Continue reading “The Crippled Credibility of Kirkus Reviews”
Once upon a time, there was a site, small and humble, where people could write and share their stories. It was a noble idea. It was not original by any means. Slowly, people came and the site grew in popularity. Even though some stories got more attention and engagement, it did always have a place for a story, however small it may be. But as it grew, it changed. It became something very twisted. Something which no longer evolved but satisfied itself with stasis and so it rotted from the inside and now we see its ugliness full front. Continue reading “Washed up Wattpad”
I love Spider-Man. But, I need to be honest on this one fact. I didn’t start Spider-Man in comics. Where I lived, there were little to no comics and the thought of collecting one comic book after another didn’t occur to me. How I got to know Spider-Man was from the 2002 Sam Raimi’s superhero film ‘Spider-Man’. After watching the film (at least a couple hundred times), I watched the 1967 ‘Spider-Man: The Animated Series’ (over and over again).
And I did watch Superman and Batman in my childhood, but only Spider-Man left a deep impression on me. Part of it was the gimmick of a man being able to spin webs from his hands and being able to crawl on the walls. To me, it felt much better than being able to fly.
But a gimmick can only hold attention for so long. It is easy for the high to come down for a child as he grew into a teen and stand the precipice of adulthood. Many of those spectacles have left in the long years of my life. But, some stayed.
One of them was Spider-Man. Continue reading “Why Spider-Man is the Greatest Hero in Comics”
***Spoilers below for Secret Empire and Lord of The Rings***
I am not going to drag this out. Secret Empire is one of the most underwhelming story ever penned (and up to certain issues, drawn) under Marvel. It is a monster of a story done bad. It had themes which could have resonated, but all it left was a pitiful echo.
However, it is not without its defenders. There are people who have loved the story. It is good they were able to find entertainment in the comic where I couldn’t. More power to them.
Still, there are quite a lot of glaring flaws which need to be addressed. One should not turn a blind eye to them unless people want Marvel to fall into mediocrity.
Continue reading “My Problem with Marvel Comic’s Secret Empire”
I have played a lot of games in my life. From simple platformers like Mario to complex stories told in AAA games such as Dishonored, Far Cry, Fallout, etc, I have played a lot of them. It was great to play these games, always great to escape into a reality of infinite possibilities. The games were frustrating at times, cathartic in others, but enjoyable overall. This is how I had been feeling about games since I was a child. However, there was another feeling in there among the rest. A feeling which I ignored even though how strong it was at the particular time and place. Dissatisfaction.
Why did I feel dissatisfied? The story was complete. The heroes won. But, it didn’t feel, didn’t resonate with me. I would just get up and stretch my limbs and feel… relieved.
Continue reading “How Undertale Satisfied Me”
The rain was falling outside. The class was empty and everybody was gone. I stayed behind. I had a raincoat but rather wished to leave when the rain stopped completely. I tried to write something, maybe an essay. But I didn’t know what to write about. I didn’t think I had the knowledge to write about it. But aren’t essays a personal opinion on a subject? But I wanted to write the right thing. I don’t know what kind of sentimentality is brewing in my mind. I wanted to be right, yet I wanted to write what I wanted. How can I do the two things at the same time? In all honesty, I could only do one at a time.
I like to write. I just like writing what I wanted. Yet I feel these constraints pulling at me, wanting me to take my work a certain direction. Is this for the better or for the worse? I didn’t know, neither I felt I would be getting a definite answer. I want to write what I want. Stories, poems, essays, and ramblings are my most written forms. In them, I try to be honest with what I am feeling. What emotion goes through me, goes through my hand and onto the paper. Very little, I edit what I write. Poems I have left untouched, even the typos undisturbed. They mean something to me. My inexperience. How I started this wonderful activity. If I go back and change them to my present skill, doesn’t everything become cookie-cutter in entirety?
Maybe my mistakes are not mistakes at all. Maybe these are personal touches. Maybe these things tell us we didn’t start easy. There was a time, young and we naive. We didn’t fail that moment. We wrote and maybe, even now in the future, we might look at this very moment and say, “Didn’t I make this wonderful mistake that time?”