Power Tools
It's Blogtober and I'm 4 days late to the party already. Time for some intense backdating. I was 5 when I watched Titanic, although I've remembered myself as being 3 for some reason. I can't say I understood everything that happened in the movie - whatever happened with the place that had all the vintage car stuff was a complete mystery, and I'm pretty sure Dubai censorship rules are the reason I never realized Jack's painting was a nude painting. But there's a reason why the movie was hailed the way it was - and still is. And that is the sense of something so vast and inescapable. The sense of watching a tragedy unfold in real time, and being made to feel helpless by it. Something like that is incredibly tragic. Watching men self-destruct in real time, on the other hand, is tragicomic. My friend watched me laugh as I compared a couple of people I've dated - their patterns of self-destructive behaviours, their detachment, the utter hopelessnes...