Unpopular Opinion: Outrage Culture Conditioned Me To Not Care About Anything

Just as a heads up, this is as close to addressing political issues as I am likely to get on this blog outside of discussions involving freedom of expression. The only reason I’m even bothering typing up this post is because, as bloggers, may of us have lives that are saturated by media.

Hell, most writers in general have pretty strong ties to the internet so, in a way, it is in keeping with my niche audience.

If you squint.

Getting to the point:

This may be more of a reflection of me and my grown (or degradation depending on how you look at it) as a person, but I’ve found myself becoming so overwhelmed by lists of people I’m supposed to be angry with that it’s difficult to muster the same type of emotion.

Every other day, Twitter tallies up an extensive list of people we are supposed to hate now. Jennifer Lawrence rubbed her butt on an idol, some comedian said Donald Trump may not actually be Hitler, someone called someone a bad name in the heat of the moment.

The next morning, HuffPo and various other media outlets are writing detailed, peer-reviewed articles about why this person needs to wear a crown of thorns and carry the instrument of their execution on their backs while we throw rotten tomatoes at them.

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At first, I was game. If someone calls a woman a whore on a podcast, they should be fired. If a man sends a tweet with sexual overtones that person should be called out….but this has gone on for weeks…months….years even.

And it has to be said, you guys, I can only hate a person I’ve never met so much. I have a finite amount energy to give towards anyone I will likely never encounter in my entire existence.

There are so many people in this world that I want to save my hatred for: people who don’t use their turn signals, that cashier that always tries to make me sign up for a rewards card whenever I go shopping, people on Medicare, etc.

I am not a negative person so I only have so much scorn to give. I don’t have the energy to waste it on people who, at the end of the day, did things that are, by and large, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

I know what outrage culture is designed to do. It’s meant to weed out people who defy social norms and try to force them through public shaming to be a better person.

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However, what outrage culture doesn’t take into account is that people are highly adaptable. If you expose them enough times to something, they stop caring about it as much. It’s like violence in various forms of media. While it doesn’t necessarily make us more violent as people, it does desensitize us to viewing it.

It seems to be the same for outrageous behavior.

A few days ago, Youtuber and self-made millionaire PewDiePie said the n-word on one of his live-streams and nobody seems to care. Sure, a few people have made videos on it either reprimanding him or defending his speech as a “mere slip of the tongue”, nevertheless, this sort of remark would normally have people screaming from the rafters. However, it didn’t make nearly as much of an impact as it should have.

Many will likely credit this as a product of the rise of “white supremacy” in America, but I think it has more to do with the rise of outrage culture.

I think the general population are just bored of it at this point.

Myself included.

It’s not for want of trying, you understand. I read and reread articles, watch and analyze video clips, trying in desperation to feel even a tingling of rage. Nevertheless, I can’t muster up the same feelings of indignation that used to be part of my daily internet experience.

There are still people who are willing to fight the good fight from behind their desktops, adding their tweets to the pile of those declaring their outrage at (insert name here) for doing (insert activity here). But many of us have grown weary of this cycle and it is a cycle as it follows the same predictable pattern each time. The offender is shamed, the offender apologizes, the accusers don’t accept the apology and continue a smear campaign, right up until the event is no longer timely and everyone stops giving a crap.

Then it’s on to the next poor sod convicted of wrong-think.

Sometimes the outrage is reasonable and justified, sometimes it’s not.

Regardless, I think it will take some time before I will be able to hate again.

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Unpopular Opinion: “Death Note” The Netflix Film Wasn’t THAT Bad

I know everyone is in shock about this but Netflix created a live-action film adaptation of beloved anime series and manga Death Note….and it was not well received.

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It was weird, it was convoluted, and it completely fell apart at the seams.

…….but….

I don’t think it’s nearly as bad as people think it is.

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Okay! Okay! Calm down! I never said it was good. It was far from good. It was a colossal disaster as a film as well as an adaptation. Things were unnecessarily added, the crux of the story was taken away, and characters were butchered for the sake of “plot” *coughLcough*

But here’s the weird thing….

I actually think this film could have been salvageable if they had done but one thing:

Get as far away as the original source material as possible.

Yeah. Okay, so that seems like it defeats the purpose of making an adaptation doesn’t it? Well, here’s the thing.

Any attempt at making an anime is going to be dead on arrival as the expectations for anime and live-action film are completely different.

Anime works based on its own convoluted logic and the translation of that to screen is…not a smooth one. Most movie watchers go into film with a certain level of expectation. They want what they are seeing to make sense.

Anime has it’s own rules in that it has no rules. Very often times certain plot points, physics, and general progression do not make sense. Anime is like a fever dream and, generally, it tries to appeal more to a person’s emotions rather than their intellect. Or, at least that’s been my experience.

Going back to adapting Death Note, I noticed something rather peculiar about this film. That being the farther they got from the original source material, the better the movie became.

Not good. Just…better.

I’m not talking about Light being your stereotypical bullied kid or the weird stylistic feel this film has, or whatever the hell happened to L.

I mean when they focused more on the psychology of the person wielding the Death Note. As someone who really enjoyed Death Note when it first came out and spent hours in bookstores reading the manga, what held my interest wasn’t Light’s character, it was the game of cat-and-mouse between him and L.

I don’t dislike Light as a character there just…isn’t much to him outside of being Kira. He was never your average kid. He was a super genius that was bored with his life because he was so much better than everyone at everything.

I know I’ll aggravate a lot of people by saying this but…he was essentially an Evil Gary-Stu.

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With the Light for Netflix’s Death Note, we were able to see how the Death Note could affect a normal, down-to-earth person. Rather than see him go from being a bored genius to Wrathful Death God in 2.4 seconds, we actually saw some character progression.

It isn’t until the final leg of the movie that he truly turns into the evil genius puppet master that we all know and love.

I have to say that when the focus was on the power struggle between Light and his girlfriend Mia (Misa in the manga/anime), it was actually pretty interesting.

Rather than being a total air-headed bimbo like she has been in other incarnations, Misa is the instigator. She’s the one that constantly manipulates Light and tries to make him go further and further. Considering how annoying I always found Misa, I thought this was a welcome change. They work off of each other rather than Mia just being a pawn in Light’s game.

That being said, they should have scrapped the idea of making this an adaptation of the original Death Note. What they should have done was create this in the world of Death Note following the fall of Kira. Don’t toy with the characters from the original anime. Just get a cast of all new characters. Hell, you changed them so their bordering on unrecognizable anyway. Might as well go that extra step.

We would be able to forgo the annoying white-washing aspect of this as well.

The concept of the Death Note is a fascinating one and it could work outside of Light’s story arc. Like I said, I personally find it far more interesting to see how a normal teenager, one whose sense of justice is underdeveloped due to his age, would react to being given ultimate power.

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What are the ethical implications of killing criminals? How does having that level of power effect a normal individual?

Here’s how I would have written it if I had been given the script:

A normal, albeit troubled, teenage boy stumbles across a Death Note and discovers, through the power of experimentation, that he is able to control when and how people die. The rules are self-explanatory and written down in the book so he doesn’t need a Death God explaining to him how it goes.

The police are growing a bit suspicious about the deaths, but only one detective in particular seems to believe the deaths are actually linked.

In the meantime the MC’s confidence in himself begins to grown and he is able to win the heart of one of his classmates. Through their courtship, he learns that she has been the victim of a crime and he decides to give her the option of taking the perpetrator’s life.

She uses the Death Note and she is able to witness herself how the instrument of death works. They decide from that point forward that they will work together in order to make the world a better place. They begin slow, but inevitably events snowball. The pair become bolder in their actions and the police are made aware that something is amiss and are able to link it to a series of murders that took place in Japan years ago.

The game becomes all the more intricate and the couple find themselves doing things such as killing innocents and engaging in other illegal activities in order to continue on being gods of what they hope to be their brave new world.

That’s just one idea. There’s really a ton of things you could do with the concept of a Death Note.

So..no..this was not a good movie. Not by a long shot. Nevertheless, I didn’t hate it as much as I expected to.

It’s like Kenny Rogers said “the secret is knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep.”

And, unfortunately, the team behind this flop didn’t seem to know either of these things.

How Drake and Josh Are Destroying My Novel

I never thought procrastination would be so simple, but I found a way.

I found a way.

I set out  working on chapter seven of my story and somehow found myself plunging into the ether of pop culture sludge.

For literally no reason at all, I began looking into the Drake and Josh controversy.

In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, Drake Bell found out Josh Peck was getting married via social media instead of through the man himself. Outraged that he wasn’t contacted about it, Drake immediately lapsed into insanity and began berating Josh through Twitter instead of….you know…actually talking to the guy.

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Naturally, the internet led the charge against Josh, decrying him for committing such a treacherous act against his on-screen brother and real life bff. How dare he not invite his “brotha” to such a momentous occasion? Didn’t he realize we’re all watching him?

Memes were created as effigies against the traitor. His Facebook and Twitter feed were bombarded with hateful comments.

Good news: it appears they have since made up as evidenced by a recently posted vlog by Josh Peck.

Bad news: I apparently care about this sh*t.

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I loved Drake and Josh as a kid, but they are real people with real lives that are none of my business. Why did I take it upon myself to do research on this subject? Why do I care so much about people I will never meet and (in spite of giving me a few hours worth of laughs) really didn’t contribute that much to my life?

It’s amazing the mental gymnastics I will do just to avoid a rough writing session. That’s really what it comes down to: Not wanting to write a difficult chapter

And my mind will do anything–question anything—if it gets me off the hook.

I don’t even want to talk about all the WatchMojo videos I’ve watched in an attempt to drain my evening of writing time.

Oh crap, I just spent three hours watching clips from Carrie and analyzing how Sissy Spacek’s portrayal of the main character was much better than the one from the 2013 movie. 

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Look at those dead eyes! 

Oh well. Guess I don’t have time to write now. 

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Then I lie awake it bed, feeling hopelessly guilty that I thwarted what few hours I have on this earth watching crappy five minutes videos, caught in my own web of self-defeatism, when I could be contributing to the ever-growing nest of culture that is the arts and humanities.

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It doesn’t matter how many cups of coffee I throw back or how much atmospheric music I play, even Enya can’t save me from my bad habits so pervasive in my mind that they have decided to colonize as many lobes as possible.

All I can hope for is that, eventually, I will strike the right cord. The chapter I am currently working on I have rewritten about sixteen times. No hyperbole.

However, I’ve decided (for the fourth week in a row) that this will be my weekend. This will be the week that I finish that damn chapter. This time I won’t be distracted by WatchMojo or watch the Stephen King It trailer for the twentieth time even though I despise remakes and, after closer examination, have almost no desire to see it.

I suppose there is nothing for it.

All I can do is look my story dead in the eye and say…

Eh…maybe next week.

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Kris Marshall is The Doctor?

So rumors have been floating around that Death in Paradise’s Kris Marshall may be taking up the mantle of The Doctor following Capaldi’s departure.

And, of course, you realize what this means….

THE DOCTOR WILL FINALLY BE GINGER!!!

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I thought this would be the main topic of discussion when it came to his potential role. However, this was what most people had to say about the matter:

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My questions is why are people so adverse to him playing The Doctor? I’ve read quite a few tweets and I’ve been able to determine two reasons for the wave of haters:

  1. They don’t like him because he was in that one thing that they didn’t like so that automatically means he’ll be crap at being The Doctor because reasons, I guess.
  2. He’s a straight white male.

If your reason for not liking him being The Doctor is reason #1, give him a break. Sometimes actors get cast in crappy roles in crappy movies/tv shows. It happens. There are a lot of factors that go into making a production. Sometimes actors have poor direction or the writing is bad. Even the best actors can’t turn straw into gold.

If your reason for being up in arms is #2, well, I suggest you listen to this on full blast.

Okay, perhaps a bit harsh.

All the same, I think it’s a dumb reason to be upset. Yes, I’ve said in a post before that it would be cool if The Doctor was a woman. Nevertheless, I’m not up in arms that he’s not. I just want the show to improve and I thought him being a woman would give us a new dynamic to work with. However, I think we’re going to see plenty of different now that we’re getting a new head writer AND he’s bringing in a whole new group of writers.

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Of course, it’s only a rumor that he’ll be the 13th Doctor. Still, I’m actually really hoping it’s true (and it seems to be since nobody from BBC has denied it).

I know from Death in Paradise that he does socially awkward and smart well so he seems like he’d be a perfect fit.

As most people have pointed out, people usually hate the guy that’s replacing the old Doctor, only to fall in love with the new one. That didn’t necessarily happen to me with Capaldi, but I know where they are coming from and have experienced it myself when Tennant became Smith.

So, if he truly is the Ginger Doctor, we should all give him a chance.

Who knows? Maybe he’ll become your favorite Doctor.

Social Media Killed My Curiosity About Authors

When I was a child I daydreamed all the time about talking to my favorite writers.

While I was toiling for hours over my own horrible manuscripts, I would wonder to myself what wisdom they would impart onto me if I ever mustered up the courage to write to them.

Writers back then were these mystical figures I imagined as silhouettes, tapping away at a typewriter in a clocktower alone all day everyday.

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Their lives were a mystery to me and the only connection I had to them was their work. I could only speculate as to what they did all day, what their hobbies were, what their childhood was like.

Now that I’m adult we have social media, and authors can communicate directly with their readers (and vice versa) at the push of a button…….

I wish they could go back to being silhouettes in clocktowers.

Perhaps it’s because I’m an adult now (technically), but I’ve lost that desire to know more about the people that create the works I read. In fact, I seldom follow well-known authors on any social media platform.

When it comes to famous authors, their social media platforms are usually divided into one of two categories: generic/bland or annoying/repetitive.

The authors in the first camp usually post motivational platitudes about determination and never giving up on your dreams. This on, the surface, isn’t a bad thing, but when that’s all they ever post it’s like “are you a real person, or are you an AI that’s been programed to monitor human behavior?”

The authors in the other camp are the ones that believe that because they are the creators of a universe that doesn’t exist, they know absolutely everything about everything and must, therefore, inform the poor plebeians about what to think. In addition, it would seem they have to tell their readers absolutely everything that is going on with their lives.

EVERYTHING.

“Getting my nails done!”

“Some guy at the mall said something rude to me.”

“Obsessing over (insert popular show here)!”

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I miss being able to imagine what my favorite authors were like because the authors themselves became part of the fantasy. They were just as metaphysical as the characters they wrote. They were untapped pools of mystery and wisdom.

Now that you can learn just about anything there is to know about a person with a quick Google search, the desire for knowledge is gone.

Nobody is interesting anymore.

They’ve become too accessible.

Perhaps I’m just longing for the days when I was more young and naive to the ways of the world. Back when I thought writers were these heroes of myth that brushed hands with the gods and had their lives together. Now that I’m older and social media has pulled back the curtain, I’ve been exposed to the naked truth. Or at least the naked, slightly airbrushed truth.

Writers are mortal.

They’re people with flaws and stupid opinions.

And those stupid opinions might discourage me from reading their books.Books I might need those in my life without realizing it.

As such, I choose not to peek behind the curtain.

I think I’ll stick to my clocktower.

Unpopular Opinion: Censorship and “Offensive”Bookstagram Pictures

I don’t consider myself a controversial person, nor do I try to stir the pot when I see a problem brewing. However, it’s becoming progressively more difficult to stay quiet on certain issues, particularly issues involving censorship.

Today I was exploring Bookstagram when I came across a picture from one of the content creators I follow. In this photo advertising the book “Carve The Mark” the photographer painted her arm twilight blue and golden slash marks on her forearm.

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Wow. That’s a lot of dedication, I thought.

I proceeded to scroll on.

Later, I discovered the same photograph covered in white text reading “TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING.” Curious, I investigated to find a crap storm of biblical proportions.

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Apparently many people were complaining that this photograph promoted self-harm and that the photographer should take it down immediately or else they would file a formal complaint. The content creator explained that it was just art and she hadn’t meant any harm by it (she suffers from depression herself). Nevertheless, commentators were not appeased and continued to espouse PC rhetoric about how this could trigger someone or that this was somehow romanticizing cutting.

I’m not in the business of offending people, but I am in the business of creating and defending others that choose the arts as their vocation.

As such I have to say I’m getting tired of this cultural elitism that demands artists change their message or content because someone somewhere might be offended by it. Art has many interpretations and just because you interpreted something a certain way doesn’t give you the right to say something needs to be taken down. What gets me is most of the people that rushed to their keyboards don’t even have depression. They are becoming offended on another person’s behalf.

“What if someone with depression saw this and it triggered them?!”

“What if someone who self-harms saw this?!” 

I don’t know. What if aliens saw Keeping Up With The Kardashians and decided they didn’t want to make first contact anymore? Are we really going to crucify someone based on a hypothetical?

In their quest to come to depressed peoples’ aid they verbally attacked a person with actual depression for posting a picture they didn’t like.

Don’t misunderstand. I am not dissuading criticism. I think critique is perfectly fine. The problem occurs when someone tries to shut a person up or hurl vulgar abuse at them rather than have an intelligent discussion on the subject.

My problem, first and foremost, is with censorship. People being offended by everything is a close second, but censorship is by far the most important issue.

Anyone with any creative background should support another person’s right to make art. It’s as simple as that.

If you don’t like someone’s work, don’t follow that person. Don’t give them your money. Don’t give them your time.

You are not the definitive voice on what is and is not offensive. You don’t have the right to try to de-platform someone just because you don’t agree with their views or what they have created.

Opinion: Instagram v. Twitter

As a writer who is trying to gain recognition, I’ve done what dozens of writing magazines, podcasts, and Facebook pages keep telling me to do: have multiple platforms on multiple social media sites.

This has been a…mostly unsuccessful endeavor on my part seeing as I find social media a distraction from what I really should be doing (a.k.a writing). However, I have found a friend in Instagram, what I once believed to be one of the most self-indulgent websites out there.

I used to think Twitter was my best bet for gaining attention (and perhaps it is) but I find Instagram to be miles superior for these reasons:

There isn’t nearly as much drama on Instagram as there is on Twitter.

Or at least I’ve found this to be true in the writing community. Every time I logged on to Twitter I was instantly flooded by tweets about who was pissed with who. If I were to rename Twitter I would call it Who Are We Mad At Now? It was like being stuck in high school math class all over again. On Instagram, people just take well posed pictures of books, spiral notebooks, or their laptops. Nobody is offended, nobody is being offensive. Everyone is just having a good time looking at cool pictures.

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You can type much more. 

People often praise Twitter for it’s brevity (it being the soul of wit and all), nonetheless, I think that’s how most people get in trouble. They can’t adequately explain themselves in that many words so they often come off as arrogant or uninformed. I much prefer Instagram with it’s (so far) 2,200 character limit. I don’t think anyone needs that many characters for a single post, but it’s good to have that much space available.

You don’t have to constantly think of something witty to say. 

Updating on Instagram is easy. All you have to do is snap a picture of something, make a hashtag, and boom. You got a post. With Twitter I had to continually read and reread my tweet to make sure I wouldn’t offend someone, rework it, and before I knew it, I had spent 10 minutes on a single tweet. This is a colossal waste of time. I would much rather take a photograph of a gorgeous bookstore I saw than try to convince people how smart I am because of who I voted for in 2016.

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If Twitter is your thing, that’s fine. But if you find yourself getting tired of the constant drama and character limitations, I recommend giving Instagram a try. I’ve followed a lot of interesting people this way and I truly believe it’s the superior website if you’re looking for people to communicate with on books and writing.

 

You Are The Ranting Queen

I’ve noticed something a bit startling about myself: I am prone to ranting.

However, I like to think of my rants as well-constructed and justified. More often than not, they spawn from a place of righteous indignation about things of no real consequence. Most of my rants revolve around terrible writing in the plethora of mediums I consume, or books that have let me down as of late because, hey, that’s my area of expertise.

I enjoy writing about things that make me miffed, but it may give people the wrong idea about me.

I am not an angry person. I do have things that make me happy. It’s just easier to go on lengthy diatribes about things that irk me.

All of my friends know this. They even have a look they give each other when they realize they’re in for another trademark Rachael Rant.

It’s what a person must look like after they think they’ve found a metal egg in their backyard only to realize it is actually a hand grenade and the pin just fell out.

Or when you accidentally send a nude to your boss.

Which has never happened to me.

As far as you know.

My friends will try to appease me with a sacrifice, usually a goat, or wine poured in libation, but with very limited success.

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The only true way to stop a Rachael Rant is to hand me the cup of wine and let me drink my fill until I’ve forgotten what I’ve been saying and just start belting out Disney songs or other show tunes.

If wine is unavailable, just prepare the same way you would a nuclear holocaust: hide under a desk and weep bitterly until oblivion wraps its cold arms around you in a suffocating embrace.

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My friends to people who have never experienced my wrath

While my friends, acquaintances, family and others in real life are likely to feel the brunt of my self-indulgent ire when it comes to politics and other such subjects, fear not, fair reader. For the sake of this blog, I will stick to giving my opinion on matters of fiction and the written world only….mostly.

God knows we have enough temperamental millennials with blogs blithering on about other things.

Oh, and don’t get me started on….

Crap.

Run.

RUN!!!!

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