Arthur Freitas

Anotações: sobre “blogar”

What happened to blogging for the hell of it? · wiwi blog

I want to write more frequently about anything and everything, because it’s good for you, and I have so many thoughts constantly assailing this brain of mine

The Blog Era Was Perfectly Imperfect

Sometimes it feels like we’ve traded drawn-out storytelling for fleeting moments where the audience bounces from one to the next
[…] The blog era represented freedom and opportunity.

There was no central hub, like a Spotify today, where all the playlists and means of discovering music are organized neatly within the platform. You had to search, to dig! Even when you grabbed a song directly from an artist’s social media, you almost always wanted to know more because context was the norm. So you’d go to your favorite blog, which is what everyone did the night “Acid Rain” surfaced out of nowhere, and you’d get the full story.

I, however, miss going to Blockbuster because it forced me to actively discover, to take in more elements of the art beyond just the film file. Did the cover catch my eye? How about the description on the back? Did it rope me in? Was the film I wanted not in stock, forcing me to search for something new?

↪ How Zodiac perfectly places you in its characters' obsessive worldview

How Zodiac perfectly places you in its characters’ obsessive worldview

Emly St. James:

The comfort in Zodiac is the comfort of doomerism, the idea that we are completely fucked, and it’s better to just admit it. The only people who matter are the monsters in the shadows who’ve broken the world and the people sitting right in front of you, who might be able to help you shine what meager light you possess into those shadows.
[…]

The kind of light dehumanization that peppers the edges of Zodiac’s frames is something we all practice from time to time. When you are engaged in a really intense conversation in a restaurant, the server might become an abstraction to you. You’re aware they’re there, but you’re also really locked in on what you and your friend are chatting about. This filtering of the world is normal, even healthy. Our brains have to shut out some information to make sense of what’s important to us in that moment.

Yet watch Zodiac again with an eye toward how Fincher utilizes this technique. The longer the movie goes on, the more other people only seem to exist as disconnected blobs in the background somewhere. The second you start to really look at them, you might start to think they mean to do something horrible to you. So you learn not to see them, and the world becomes a collection of scary stories waiting to happen.